Fic: You Are Everything (Jane/Maura)
NOTE: There's this cute, blue-eyed Irish girl that works at my local Starbucks and I'm 10000etc.% sure she's gay. I got so nervous telling her my order I forgot to buy food and left off the 'vanilla' part of my latte haha. Oh if only I knew how to let her know I'm totally into her. Fml.
Title: You Are Everything
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Rizzoli and Isles
Pairing: Maura Isles/Jane Rizzoli
Spoilers: none
Summary: Sex in the car.
Disclaimer: You know the drill.
The warm breeze sweeps in through rolled down windows, riding on the light that fractures through Maura’s hair, caressing it, whispering into it.
The steering wheel’s hot against her back, searing through the thin material of her silk blouse. She leans away from it, once again, into Jane’s eager mouth. It too is hot - the kiss- and Maura’s eyes flutter at the brisk contact, at the way Jane devours her with quick tongue and fumbling hands.
“C’mere,” Jane tugs her closer, sliding the driver’s seat back as far as it’ll go, jolted by the click of metal against metal. Maura hikes her skirt up in what can only be described as sophisticated cock-teasing if ever there were such a contradiction and Jane reclines, wanton, hooded eyes taking in the various states of undress Maura presents her with.
First, the skirt, folded at her waist. Then, the small, delicate buttons, starting at the junction of her collar bones, down, down, down until all there is left is sun-kissed skin, glowing at the forefront of a clear blue sky.
Jane grunts. “You always gotta do that?”
Maura appraises her with a quirked brow, smiling sweetly as she drops the blouse onto the passenger seat. “Do what Jane?”
“That,” she lets her hands climb up Maura’s stomach, licking her lips as they traverse the thin lace of Maura’s white bra. She squeezes. It’s lovely; the way Maura instantly comes to her, tipping her head just a little, indicating for Jane to step up. “With the slow and the buttons and,” Jane kisses the damp skin at Maura’s neck, nipping at the soft part of her earlobe, “the fuck-me eyes.”
At that, Maura laughs, adjusting herself in Jane’s lap so her arms come around either side of Jane’s headrest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No?”
“Certainly not,” Maura bites her lip, staring Jane in the eye. Her cheeks are flushed, gaze piercing green then clouding at the feel of Jane’s hands on her thighs, on her waist, her back, toying with the snap of her bra, mouth tight on her shoulder.
Jane’s voice drops, gritty, hard and before Maura has time to register it, Jane’s got her pinned, underwear pushed to one side, hand firm on the dashboard as she makes the first thrust, “Still not getting it?” She drops her right hand to the gear stick, grunting as the wind picks up, cooling the sweat on her forehead.
“Mmh. Explain it to me.”
There’s nothing Jane likes more than when Maura’s playful with her; when she’s eager and tender and wet. She bucks her hips, slipping in the seat until her knee collides with the radio. She holds her breath, lip unsnapping from between her teeth when the music doesn’t come on. Good. The only sound she wants is the ebb and flow of birdsong, the rhythmic slap of skin on skin and Maura’s orgasm as she watches her gasp through it.
“I could fuck you ‘til the sun comes down,” Jane explains it concisely and clearly, keeping to her word and bringing Maura one step closer. But Maura hums and sighs and Jane’s lungs constrict that little bit more. She’s pretty sure Maura doesn’t know it but should the situation arise, Jane would risk her life for this in a heart-beat.
Still, it’s welcome relief sometimes, to be free in other ways. To have the option of taking a drive together, of leaving work behind and tending to these things: intimacy, joy?
When Maura opens her eyes and leans in for a kiss, the rush of want appears in a burst. Each time she lifts and lowers to meet Jane’s touch, there’s an undeniable creak in the leather, drenched with sweat just like the front of Jane’s work shirt. Maura feels it rub against her shins and the pain distracts wonderfully from Jane’s persistent force.
“You ever get scared?”
Maura replies with a moan and a frown, hooking her fingers into Jane’s collar, “You don’t scare me.”
The answer slices right through her, the ache it brings sends Jane into a half-fury and she bends Maura forwards until she’s certain it’s beginning to hurt. She’d never even considered herself in that way and the mere thought of it makes her want to vomit.
“I didn’t mean of me, but gee, thanks.”
Maura wants to explore this further. She knows she needs to, knows it’s a big red flag waving in front of her face. Instead, the thing Jane’s doing with her thumb proves too much and she barely gets out “What did you mean?” before bunching Jane’s shirt as she strains against her. She’s close. Jane’s holding it off expertly.
“Of this. All of it.”
She doesn’t think. She can’t. Jane’s hand pushing against her chest now feels loose and flat against her and Maura realises she’s held to the wheel entirely on her own. Her elbow snags the side and the single sweep of the windscreen wipers against a dry windshield comes perfectly timed with Jane’s final thrust.
“Yes. Yes. Oh- sometimes- God, Jane.”
“Yeah?”
“Terrified,” her voice breaks and she slumps into Jane’s arms, shuddering at Jane’s fleeting fingers in her hair, tugging and holding her. “That was-”
Confusing. Jane wants to say confusing, because she doesn’t quite understand it all. Not yet anyway. She stares out at the open field.
“-something I can’t lose Jane. Not just the…” Maura takes a deep breath, lazily reaching for the hand by the gears, drawing patterns around Jane’s scar.
Jane nods, part of her thrilled at Maura’s trembling, sated form, breaths even as they hit against her open collar. The other part, wants to cry; for happiness, for sorrow, maybe both. In the back of her mind, her own arousal becomes apparent and it doesn’t tempt her half as much as it should.
Now’s not the time. Now is Maura and now is something she wants to save.