birthday fic for Candi
Honestly, this barely counts as a fic, but it's Candi's birthday, and I adore her, and I thought she might like this! You can either read it as part of this David/Liz WIP I'm writing, that, um, only Candi and Merci have read, OR as a sequel to Candi's lovely David/Liz fic that she posted the other day.
I wanted to write something longer but I was kind of, um, out partying till 2 AM last night SO. These things happen.
Title: Warm Me Up
Pairing: David/Liz
Rating: light R, I guess? I have no sense of ratings any more tbh
Summary: Summer in L.A. has nothing on summer in D.C.
Word Count: ~150
Spoilers: Numb3rs 6x16, sort of
Warnings: none
Notes: unbetaed. Nearly stream-of-consciousness.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, nor do I profit from their use here. This is only for fun.
Summer in L.A. has nothing on summer in D.C. It's hot-muggy-sticky, leaving a constant sheen of sweat damp on her skin. They sit out on the tiny balcony behind their apartment, fan running full blast against them. She's in a bikini and he's in shorts; she's eating a cherry popsicle and he's nursing an icy lemonade that she saw him add a splash of rum to. On her tongue the artificial cherry mixes with the woody taste of the popsicle stick where she has to lick it to catch the drips. It's melting in the heat and a drop of syrupy melted cherry drips onto her breast, bare above the line of her bikini top. His eyes are on her, he sees it happen, and before she can move he leans over and slowly sucks the melted popsicle off her bare skin, hot mouth on the icy cool liquid.
I wanted to write something longer but I was kind of, um, out partying till 2 AM last night SO. These things happen.
Title: Warm Me Up
Pairing: David/Liz
Rating: light R, I guess? I have no sense of ratings any more tbh
Summary: Summer in L.A. has nothing on summer in D.C.
Word Count: ~150
Spoilers: Numb3rs 6x16, sort of
Warnings: none
Notes: unbetaed. Nearly stream-of-consciousness.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, nor do I profit from their use here. This is only for fun.
Summer in L.A. has nothing on summer in D.C. It's hot-muggy-sticky, leaving a constant sheen of sweat damp on her skin. They sit out on the tiny balcony behind their apartment, fan running full blast against them. She's in a bikini and he's in shorts; she's eating a cherry popsicle and he's nursing an icy lemonade that she saw him add a splash of rum to. On her tongue the artificial cherry mixes with the woody taste of the popsicle stick where she has to lick it to catch the drips. It's melting in the heat and a drop of syrupy melted cherry drips onto her breast, bare above the line of her bikini top. His eyes are on her, he sees it happen, and before she can move he leans over and slowly sucks the melted popsicle off her bare skin, hot mouth on the icy cool liquid.