Numb3rs drabble: "Little Things You Hide" (OMC/Amita, R)
Hahaha, this fic is a little bit silly, but... How can I pass up a prompt like "lust?" Really now.
Title: Little Things You Hide
Pairing: Fantasized OMC/Amita
Rating: R
Summary: She doesn't know what she does to him.
Word Count: 200
Spoilers: None
Notes/Warnings: Unbetaed. Abuse of ellipses. Title from I Want Your Sex by George Michael. Haha.
Prompt: "Lust" at numb3rs100
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters (...except the OCs...) nor do I profit from their use here. This is only for fun.
She doesn't know what she does to him. She treats him like anybody else, frowning at him when he stops paying attention. She doesn't know it's because he's focusing all his mental energy on the hope that the top button of her blouse will slip open, that as titillating (heh) as her lectures are, he'd rather spend the time imagining ways to earn extra credit in her office...
He considers it. Maybe not the office, maybe right here. Naughtier. She'd make him stay after class--Robert, it seems you're having trouble grasping the material--and lean over his desk until...
She's wearing a skirt today. He pictures the dark fabric sliding up her thighs when she'd straddle him in his chair. Her skin would be soft silky smooth, warm under his fingers when he'd slip his hands up her legs... He wonders what kind of underwear she wears. Silky, lacy... Plain cotton. His fingers would brush lightly over them, twist under them to touch her, and she'd have been thinking of him all through class so she'd be wet--
"Dude." Cameron is already leaning over, looking at his notebook. "What did she just say about..."
He looks down. It's gibberish.
Title: Little Things You Hide
Pairing: Fantasized OMC/Amita
Rating: R
Summary: She doesn't know what she does to him.
Word Count: 200
Spoilers: None
Notes/Warnings: Unbetaed. Abuse of ellipses. Title from I Want Your Sex by George Michael. Haha.
Prompt: "Lust" at numb3rs100
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters (...except the OCs...) nor do I profit from their use here. This is only for fun.
She doesn't know what she does to him. She treats him like anybody else, frowning at him when he stops paying attention. She doesn't know it's because he's focusing all his mental energy on the hope that the top button of her blouse will slip open, that as titillating (heh) as her lectures are, he'd rather spend the time imagining ways to earn extra credit in her office...
He considers it. Maybe not the office, maybe right here. Naughtier. She'd make him stay after class--Robert, it seems you're having trouble grasping the material--and lean over his desk until...
She's wearing a skirt today. He pictures the dark fabric sliding up her thighs when she'd straddle him in his chair. Her skin would be soft silky smooth, warm under his fingers when he'd slip his hands up her legs... He wonders what kind of underwear she wears. Silky, lacy... Plain cotton. His fingers would brush lightly over them, twist under them to touch her, and she'd have been thinking of him all through class so she'd be wet--
"Dude." Cameron is already leaning over, looking at his notebook. "What did she just say about..."
He looks down. It's gibberish.