fic: and i like you, leslie/ben, nc17
title: And I Like You
author:
shornt
pairing: Leslie/Ben
rating: NC17. Kink fic, people
words: ~1700
notes: Written at 2am after downloading The Debate and watching it many times in a row on Tuesday. Uhhh it's post-debate porn. Dorky, dorky porn. Enjoy!
There are a lot of times when Leslie feel invincible, lightheaded, and a little crazy. Those really excellent brownies, getting to start a new task force, the Harvest Festival succeeding, Ann working at City Hall, getting her own campaign, kissing Ben in the small park, listening to Ethel Beavers transcribe Ben’s feelings...
She wants to add winning the election to the end of that, wants it so badly it’s radiating down to her toes, but this is good. This debate, this was perfect. Her heart’s racing and Ben’s looking at her like she’s the most amazing thing in the world, people are lining up to high five her, asking for signatures on their KNOPE 2012 buttons, and she’s basically on top of the world.
This thing is hers to win. The world is hers to win.
And Ben can’t stop kissing her, like some addictive compulsion, his hands never leaving her body. He waits with his fingers curled over her shoulder, tickles her neck with the pad of his thumb. Takes her backstage and kisses her more, pushes her against his car in the parking lot, pulls her close in front of everyone back at his house, fingers grasping hers so tightly.
The way Ben kisses her, no matter what, if he’s greeting her for lunch or pressing her against the bedsheets, makes her feel like she can do anything. Makes her feel adored and strong and powerful.
Diaphenia’s chomping at the bit, raring to go. (Do centaurs have bits? That seems a little inhumane. Maybe chomping at the... fig leaf?)
“Hey,” she says quietly, in that low voice she knows drives him insane. She pulls him to a corner, away from the ruckus, and clutches at his sides. “It’s never going to quiet in here. My place?”
And he leans in, capturing her bottom lip as her fingers bunch up in his dress shirt. He nods through the kiss, pulling at her hips.
“We’re going, everyone!” she exclaims once he nudges her. Andy gets offended that she doesn’t want to stay for the rest of the party (“There are so many movies I haven’t gotten to, I was gonna do A Bug’s Life next!”), but she’s buried in hugs and back pats and congratulations and she leaves floating on a cloud.
Or Ben’s tugging on her hand and urging her forward and the next thing she knows, she’s straining against the seat buckle in her car, trying to angle her head the right way when Ben’s mouth opens under hers.
“We should probably--” she tries to get out, words muffled. “--drive.”
She puts her foot to the pedal, speeding even worse than usual, and thank god it’s late at night and not a lot of people are around, because Ben keeps leaning over to caress her thigh and touch her knee and it jerks down, propelling the car forward way too fast.
She doesn’t even care; the speed feels wonderful. She opens a window and grins.
He’s got her blazer off before she gets the key in the lock and her slacks unbuttoned before the door slams shut behind them.
“Leslie,” he panted, tangling his fingers in her hair as he let her push him against the wall. “You’re amazing, you’re brilliant, you’re--”
“You too.”
It took a lot of maneuvering to get from living room to bedroom, tripping on stairs and leaving shirts on banisters and end tables. She thinks his tie might have ended up in a flower vase. But it doesn’t matter because his hands are everywhere, sliding underneath her bra in impatience, gripping her jaw to hold her face close to his.
It’s like she’s on fire, like she’s already won, and she pushes him back onto the bed and leaps on top of him, yanks at his boxers and straddles his thighs. Her hair hangs in his face like a veil as she licks his upper lip and he tucks it behind her ear, touches, can’t stop touching her.
“You’re perfect,” he mumbles against her lips, palms smoothing down her sides, fingers hooking into her panties. She leans back to finally unhook her bra, which has been askew and poking her in the wrong places, and Ben immediately sits up and trails his mouth down her breastbone.
She shifts in his lap, grinds down on his erection and bites back a moan at how hard he already is. Wonders if he can feel her wetness through the fabric.
“Watching you beat his ass,” he’s still crooning between her breasts, his tongue getting sidetracked and circling, sucking, nibbling. She audibly gulps and presses down with her hips, grins wickedly when he moans. “Oh god, Les, it was just--”
“Watching you campaign manage makes me so hot,” she interrupts, giggling because it sounds ridiculous even as she says it. Her back arches, pushes her farther into his mouth as his lips curl into a smile around her nipple.
She runs her hands up his chest, pushes until his back hits the mattress again. Ben tries to gain the upperhand, starts rolling them over to be on top of her, but she grabs his wrists and pins them above his head.
“I’m afraid I disagree with your position on this issue,” she asserts, struggling to keep a straight face. And Ben just grins, eyes loving and warm and teasing.
“You might have to convince me, then.”
“Leave these here,” she tells him, looking pointedly at his hands. She lets go and slides down his body, yanks his boxers off and undresses to match. As she crawls back up his body, she lets her tongue linger, and he yelps as it hits where thigh meets hip, tracing patterns over to the base of his cock. She doesn’t stay long, just licks one long strike up to the head, nose nuzzling into his stomach.
“Ben, stop moving!” He keeps jerking up, and he’s bony, and she moves off him as his knee bumps her hip.
“Can’t help it,” he groans, and then pouts down at her. “Can I touch you yet?”
“Give me one good reason,” she teases, lightly scratching at his jaw with her nails.
“Orgasms?” he tries, a childish grin on his face.
“You don’t seem too sure about that, but it’s a good arguing point.”
Before she can blink, his mouth is on hers again, his hand between her thighs. She yelps as his fingers massage and circle, parting her and slipping inside. Everything feels slick and warm and his lips work their way down her throat, tongue darting against her skin in time with the thrust of his fingers.
When he shifts to move farther down the bed, she grabs his arm, turns so her back’s to his chest and presses her ass back against him.
“But Les, I want to--”
“No, don’t, later, just get in already.”
“So sweet,” he deadpans, but his arm is curling underneath her, hand snaking up to a breast as he aligns his hips with her and pushes in. She throws her leg over his and reaches behind her to grab his hair, pulling him down as he sucks on her shoulder.
“I love you so much,” she groans, throwing her head back as his cock hits her deep.
“Oh my god I love you too,” he pants into her shoulder, clutching at her like a lifeline. She tries to push back against him but she can’t do much in this position, but she doesn’t want to settle for being held and fucked right now.
In one quick move she knocks him onto his back, immediately moving over him and slipping him back inside of her before she can even right herself. And it’s new, she’s staring down at his feet and pushing back against him, and he makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat because this is a first.
“Leslie, holy shit.” His hands travel down to her ass, and she wishes she could see his face right now, can imagine him staring in wonder and awe and it spurs her on. She slides faster, up and down, babbling nonsense about how she feels and how she loves him and really, crap on a kookaburra, this is insane.
Suddenly his fingers tighten on her hips and he slows her, sits up behind her and she shivers as it pushes him in deeper.
“Okay, that was amazing, but I need you to face me right now.”
She reluctantly climbs out of his lap, whimpering when he slides out of her. But he pulls her right back once she’s facing him, shifts them so he’s sitting up against the headboard and urges her to keep going.
“It’s about time for the closing remarks, and we know how good you are at those,” he says with a smug smile.
There’s gonna be a dent from the headboard in the wall but Leslie doesn’t care, just thrusts down on him with abandon as he raises his hips to meet hers. She slides her own hand between them at the same time he does, both their fingers pressing against her and it’s too much, it’s so much, holy crap it’s coming on strong--
She can’t remember if she made noise or not but her throat feels raw as it ripples through her, and she only has the tiniest idea of Ben holding her against him as he pounds, groaning about how beautiful and strong she is, and then he’s there, she feels it inside, so hard.
For some reason, she’s always found it hard to keep a straight face in this moment. He looks crazy and she’s sure she’s a mess, and they’re sweaty and panting and he’s still inside her, and she can’t help but laugh. And she tries to muffle it in his chest, because what just happened was super hot and she doesn’t want to ruin it, but he just laughs with her, clutches her to him and cradles her head in his hand.
“I think you won that debate, too,” he murmurs, and she draws all her strength to lean up and kiss him.
“It was a draw.” She grins and he looks goofily at her, and wow she’s just so stupidly happy to be here right now, celebrating something good with someone she loves and likes.
author:
shornt
pairing: Leslie/Ben
rating: NC17. Kink fic, people
words: ~1700
notes: Written at 2am after downloading The Debate and watching it many times in a row on Tuesday. Uhhh it's post-debate porn. Dorky, dorky porn. Enjoy!
There are a lot of times when Leslie feel invincible, lightheaded, and a little crazy. Those really excellent brownies, getting to start a new task force, the Harvest Festival succeeding, Ann working at City Hall, getting her own campaign, kissing Ben in the small park, listening to Ethel Beavers transcribe Ben’s feelings...
She wants to add winning the election to the end of that, wants it so badly it’s radiating down to her toes, but this is good. This debate, this was perfect. Her heart’s racing and Ben’s looking at her like she’s the most amazing thing in the world, people are lining up to high five her, asking for signatures on their KNOPE 2012 buttons, and she’s basically on top of the world.
This thing is hers to win. The world is hers to win.
And Ben can’t stop kissing her, like some addictive compulsion, his hands never leaving her body. He waits with his fingers curled over her shoulder, tickles her neck with the pad of his thumb. Takes her backstage and kisses her more, pushes her against his car in the parking lot, pulls her close in front of everyone back at his house, fingers grasping hers so tightly.
The way Ben kisses her, no matter what, if he’s greeting her for lunch or pressing her against the bedsheets, makes her feel like she can do anything. Makes her feel adored and strong and powerful.
Diaphenia’s chomping at the bit, raring to go. (Do centaurs have bits? That seems a little inhumane. Maybe chomping at the... fig leaf?)
“Hey,” she says quietly, in that low voice she knows drives him insane. She pulls him to a corner, away from the ruckus, and clutches at his sides. “It’s never going to quiet in here. My place?”
And he leans in, capturing her bottom lip as her fingers bunch up in his dress shirt. He nods through the kiss, pulling at her hips.
“We’re going, everyone!” she exclaims once he nudges her. Andy gets offended that she doesn’t want to stay for the rest of the party (“There are so many movies I haven’t gotten to, I was gonna do A Bug’s Life next!”), but she’s buried in hugs and back pats and congratulations and she leaves floating on a cloud.
Or Ben’s tugging on her hand and urging her forward and the next thing she knows, she’s straining against the seat buckle in her car, trying to angle her head the right way when Ben’s mouth opens under hers.
“We should probably--” she tries to get out, words muffled. “--drive.”
She puts her foot to the pedal, speeding even worse than usual, and thank god it’s late at night and not a lot of people are around, because Ben keeps leaning over to caress her thigh and touch her knee and it jerks down, propelling the car forward way too fast.
She doesn’t even care; the speed feels wonderful. She opens a window and grins.
He’s got her blazer off before she gets the key in the lock and her slacks unbuttoned before the door slams shut behind them.
“Leslie,” he panted, tangling his fingers in her hair as he let her push him against the wall. “You’re amazing, you’re brilliant, you’re--”
“You too.”
It took a lot of maneuvering to get from living room to bedroom, tripping on stairs and leaving shirts on banisters and end tables. She thinks his tie might have ended up in a flower vase. But it doesn’t matter because his hands are everywhere, sliding underneath her bra in impatience, gripping her jaw to hold her face close to his.
It’s like she’s on fire, like she’s already won, and she pushes him back onto the bed and leaps on top of him, yanks at his boxers and straddles his thighs. Her hair hangs in his face like a veil as she licks his upper lip and he tucks it behind her ear, touches, can’t stop touching her.
“You’re perfect,” he mumbles against her lips, palms smoothing down her sides, fingers hooking into her panties. She leans back to finally unhook her bra, which has been askew and poking her in the wrong places, and Ben immediately sits up and trails his mouth down her breastbone.
She shifts in his lap, grinds down on his erection and bites back a moan at how hard he already is. Wonders if he can feel her wetness through the fabric.
“Watching you beat his ass,” he’s still crooning between her breasts, his tongue getting sidetracked and circling, sucking, nibbling. She audibly gulps and presses down with her hips, grins wickedly when he moans. “Oh god, Les, it was just--”
“Watching you campaign manage makes me so hot,” she interrupts, giggling because it sounds ridiculous even as she says it. Her back arches, pushes her farther into his mouth as his lips curl into a smile around her nipple.
She runs her hands up his chest, pushes until his back hits the mattress again. Ben tries to gain the upperhand, starts rolling them over to be on top of her, but she grabs his wrists and pins them above his head.
“I’m afraid I disagree with your position on this issue,” she asserts, struggling to keep a straight face. And Ben just grins, eyes loving and warm and teasing.
“You might have to convince me, then.”
“Leave these here,” she tells him, looking pointedly at his hands. She lets go and slides down his body, yanks his boxers off and undresses to match. As she crawls back up his body, she lets her tongue linger, and he yelps as it hits where thigh meets hip, tracing patterns over to the base of his cock. She doesn’t stay long, just licks one long strike up to the head, nose nuzzling into his stomach.
“Ben, stop moving!” He keeps jerking up, and he’s bony, and she moves off him as his knee bumps her hip.
“Can’t help it,” he groans, and then pouts down at her. “Can I touch you yet?”
“Give me one good reason,” she teases, lightly scratching at his jaw with her nails.
“Orgasms?” he tries, a childish grin on his face.
“You don’t seem too sure about that, but it’s a good arguing point.”
Before she can blink, his mouth is on hers again, his hand between her thighs. She yelps as his fingers massage and circle, parting her and slipping inside. Everything feels slick and warm and his lips work their way down her throat, tongue darting against her skin in time with the thrust of his fingers.
When he shifts to move farther down the bed, she grabs his arm, turns so her back’s to his chest and presses her ass back against him.
“But Les, I want to--”
“No, don’t, later, just get in already.”
“So sweet,” he deadpans, but his arm is curling underneath her, hand snaking up to a breast as he aligns his hips with her and pushes in. She throws her leg over his and reaches behind her to grab his hair, pulling him down as he sucks on her shoulder.
“I love you so much,” she groans, throwing her head back as his cock hits her deep.
“Oh my god I love you too,” he pants into her shoulder, clutching at her like a lifeline. She tries to push back against him but she can’t do much in this position, but she doesn’t want to settle for being held and fucked right now.
In one quick move she knocks him onto his back, immediately moving over him and slipping him back inside of her before she can even right herself. And it’s new, she’s staring down at his feet and pushing back against him, and he makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat because this is a first.
“Leslie, holy shit.” His hands travel down to her ass, and she wishes she could see his face right now, can imagine him staring in wonder and awe and it spurs her on. She slides faster, up and down, babbling nonsense about how she feels and how she loves him and really, crap on a kookaburra, this is insane.
Suddenly his fingers tighten on her hips and he slows her, sits up behind her and she shivers as it pushes him in deeper.
“Okay, that was amazing, but I need you to face me right now.”
She reluctantly climbs out of his lap, whimpering when he slides out of her. But he pulls her right back once she’s facing him, shifts them so he’s sitting up against the headboard and urges her to keep going.
“It’s about time for the closing remarks, and we know how good you are at those,” he says with a smug smile.
There’s gonna be a dent from the headboard in the wall but Leslie doesn’t care, just thrusts down on him with abandon as he raises his hips to meet hers. She slides her own hand between them at the same time he does, both their fingers pressing against her and it’s too much, it’s so much, holy crap it’s coming on strong--
She can’t remember if she made noise or not but her throat feels raw as it ripples through her, and she only has the tiniest idea of Ben holding her against him as he pounds, groaning about how beautiful and strong she is, and then he’s there, she feels it inside, so hard.
For some reason, she’s always found it hard to keep a straight face in this moment. He looks crazy and she’s sure she’s a mess, and they’re sweaty and panting and he’s still inside her, and she can’t help but laugh. And she tries to muffle it in his chest, because what just happened was super hot and she doesn’t want to ruin it, but he just laughs with her, clutches her to him and cradles her head in his hand.
“I think you won that debate, too,” he murmurs, and she draws all her strength to lean up and kiss him.
“It was a draw.” She grins and he looks goofily at her, and wow she’s just so stupidly happy to be here right now, celebrating something good with someone she loves and likes.