bakerstreet | Redemption Romance

[Oh no she's playing along. He has to remind himself of the true gravity of the situation--they can sit here and giggle like teenagers all they want, but they're on a military compound and he's a wanted fugitive and in just a few hours, he'll have to leave, and who knows when he'll see her again? In the midst of this realization, with her hands running all over him, he furrows his eyebrows.

Just momentarily, however, because his expression softens when she asks about the next move. He has plenty in mind, of course--you can't have Doctor Angela Ziegler undress herself in front of you and not have things in mind. Sure, he's a literal unwashed hobo with a stab wound and she's somehow managed to wear matching lingerie in a medical tent in the middle of a military detail.

It's so typical. He almost wants to get back at her for it.]

You just sit there and look pretty.

[That's an order, too. He's going to see how much he can get away with before she decides she can't keep her hands and mouth off him, trailing his lips down her stomach as his fingers hook into the sides of her panties.]

[ It is a flimsy and sheer illusion, but she's caught up in enjoying him regardless, brows knitting almost apologetically when his own furrow, and she throws him a knowing and sad look even as her teeth catch her bottom lip. Everything about it says "I know, but...", fingers curling over the shape of his shoulders, thumbs stroking at the base of his neck.

It still works. Her little distractions, egging him into playing along, keeping him going. She receives another "order" and his mouth drags down her skin, retracting her touch to brace both arms behind her and tilt her hips for him so he can tug her panties off side by side. ]

Yes sir.

[ Likewise, she'll see how far he gets before their desires ultimately clash, and one-sided pleasures aren't cutting it any longer. ]

[76 can already tell that this isn't going to last very long before she insists on something a little more mutual, but that doesn't mean he isn't going to try. He takes her in for a long moment, every curve from the gentle slope of her shoulders to the line of her waist. There's something wistful in his expression, like he's memorizing her because he doesn't know when or if they'll be able to do this again.

His destination, however, is much lower, and he sinks back down onto his knees, hands settling on her hips, pulling her closer. It's a good position for his injury--he doesn't have to reach far or aggravate his side (and the view isn't exactly bad, either). Besides, it's high time he did something for her, for a change.

76 starts slow, kissing up the inside of her thigh, but he doesn't drag it out for very long, as if he knows she's going to stop him and he wants to accomplish what he can. His thumb pulls her panties aside and he ends his trail of kisses right where her legs meet, not tentative at all.]

[ That wistful look of his doesn't escape notice as she leans back and watches him, figuring she ought to do something about it with the spread of her legs to allow him a closer look, moving with the tug at her hips to avoid strain on his sutures. Her lashes flutter as he trails kisses up her thigh with a soft sound in the back of her throat that verges on amusement, low and easy as he moves higher and higher, stubble tickling in light little brushes against smooth skin.

Yes, this is certainly too one-sided for her liking, but it's what he wants for now. She can't even drop her feet to his lap and see how he's faring as his thumb hooks in the lace and his lips brush over her to find her already wet. His kisses hadn't lost their touch with age, and it had been quite some time since his hands were last on her. The slightest dusting of color reaches her cheeks as she looks down through her lashes at him, lips parting with the feel of his mouth pressed against her. ]

[He can feel her eyes on him and it only spurs him on, gripping her tighter with his free hand and nudging her to pitch her hips a little--mostly to give himself better access. His other hand on the inside of her thigh stretches her panties out of the way. Likely he'll want to get them off momentarily, but for now he doesn't seem to care.

76 doesn't keep her waiting for long, pressing his mouth against her like he would in a slow, deep kiss, dragging his tongue up her opening. He already knows she's wet, and he's not about to waste any more time.

There's a satisfied noise in the back of his throat as he puts his shoulders into it and pulls her into him, encouraging.]

[ The heat of his mouth is on her and his voice is all gravel when he muffles something against her, the flat of his tongue dragging bottom to top and she can't help the immediate keening it draws from her, his attentions sudden and welcome and wonderful as she gives herself to him, body moving to his every wish. Her legs splay open further and she'll let him do as he pleases if it means he'll drag her closer, right into his lips so greedily taking her in.

Her nails catch the linen sheets on her cot and fist up the material, one leg resting daintily along his back and the other limp where he holds her hip, taking a moment to really soak into his pampering. Just this once. ]

Jack—

[ Barely a whisper, and more moan than anything. ]

[When she relaxes and sinks into him, that's victory enough. He pulls back only enough to slide her panties down to her knees, giving him fuller access when he cranes back into her, shifting so that she can lift her leg (or both legs, he's not picky) over his shoulder. 76 gets back to business after that, working his tongue all around her folds, closing his mouth over her clit. Then she says his old name and for the briefest moment, he freezes.

It doesn't even feel like his anymore, and hearing her say it twists something up inside him that he wasn't sure still existed. She still thinks of him as Jack, after all this time and after everything they've been through. Part of him wants to hear it again. Another part doesn't think he can stomach it.

76 tries to shake it off--there's certainly more than enough to distract him. Now that she's situated herself with a leg hooked over his shoulder, he frees up a hand and it searches for hers.]

[ He leaves just long enough to slip her panties to her knees and she'll waste no time divesting herself of them further, hips shifting as her legs work them off until they dangle from one dainty ankle and eventually fall forgotten to the floor some moments later as they readjust to something more comfortable. Almost as comfortable as his tongue seeking her out, replacing the chill of the room with his heat, curling right through her, lips sealing over her clit— and then he stops.

She realizes a second too late she's said his name out loud. Another second, and he's still frozen in place and she may go mad if he keeps his lips where they are— denying her the attention she now wants so badly. Angela squirms just the slightest with the softest, neediest little sound, wondering if she should say it again and what's going through his mind. Calloused fingers find her wrist and she'll move to lace her fingers through his, squeezing his hand. ]

Jack.

[ Maybe it's what he needs. Maybe it's what he fears. Maybe she's being selfish to summon that man back from the depths he'd been so carefully sheltered in. But nothing about the man before her has changed from who she'd come to know so well. This is still her Jack; the same man she'd shared coffee with on mornings so early the sun had yet to rise, wearing the same scars she'd created with these very hands from wounds worse than words, remembering each and every one like dear old friends. All the painstakingly perfect sutures and careful aftercare, doing her utmost to preserve his nerves and range of motion, his flexibility.

Everything about his name is spoken indulgently and warmly and fondly, as close of a "welcome home" as she could manage. ]

[He tries to push whatever aversion he has to that name aside, focusing on what's in front of him (both literally and figuratively). The intent behind it is good, and meaningful, and despite how much it makes him ache for better times, it's a bittersweet sort of longing that he doesn't think he minds.

It spurs him on to more fervent movements of his mouth and tongue, one hand gripping hers tightly, the other sliding back around to the inside of her thigh. A probing finger presses against her opening as he takes her clit fully in his mouth and sucks gently, running his thumb over her knuckles.

He's surprised she's letting him get away with this for so long, but he isn't going to take it for granted. He can keep distracting her, he's sure, all but effortlessly sliding a finger inside her.]

[ He allows his name on her lips and there's a little thrill in that, knowing she can use it once again. She'd known for some time— who he was, but neither of them had acknowledged it beyond the simple understanding and how their lives must follow from then on. John Morrison was dead, but Jack still lived. Under a moniker, on the run, but he still lived. And with him the strong sense of ideals and justice that straightened his spine and helped him stand tall in the world, even if he had started to slump and the weariness was in the line of his shoulders.

He renews his attentions on her and she's pressing her head back into the mattress with a low, pleased hum, thoroughly caught up in the feel of his lips and the rasp of his tongue, the feel of teeth as he sucks on her clit and draws a reedy little moan from her. Trying to be quiet was an afterthought, but the medical ward is isolated and there isn't a soul around in the entire building. It's only out of courtesy for him, so he won't worry about anyone hearing. Investigating. Her nails scrape gently at the back of his hand and she'll return the grip, desperate for whatever he may give her.

When he slips a finger inside her entrance, her body is plenty welcoming, muscles flexing about him and feeling the low twitch as he sucks and licks at her, legs splayed wide for him. She would lay here for hours and hours if he truly wished to sit here and attend to her; no one would turn that down. But what she really wants is a little something more. He's injured and in pain and it's entirely selfish when she finally bites her lip and works up to the demand, wading through the fog of pleasure over her mind. ]

Won't you join me?

[He starts slow, but soon enough he's establishing a rhythm, working his fingers in tandem with all of the attention he gives her clit. He surges forward, putting his shoulders into it, varying the motions of his tongue to bring her close but not put an end to things so soon.

The noise sets him on edge, but he isn't exactly in a position to silence her, but soon enough she's speaking up, declaring an intent to make this encounter a bit more mutual, and he thinks to himself that this was sort of nice while it lasted, even if the noise was starting to put him on edge. He pulls back from her slightly just so that he can talk, but his fingers keep pumping in and out and he makes sure to keep his breath on her as he rests his cheek against the inside of her thigh.]

Don't you want to finish?

[Don't you want to let him finish her, is more the implication. Maybe he's a little rusty, but he's fairly confident in his ability to get her off. Still, he already knows what her answer is going to be.]

[ Jack had always known just how and where to touch her. He's well-versed in her body and walks her right to the edge, his very own escort mission executed perfectly as he keeps her from tipping over, thick fingers pumping into her with an easy rhythm and leaving her squirming up into an attentive mouth with all the softest little sighs and sounds. No one would hear her halfway across the room, let alone outside of it.

She almost regrets opening her mouth when his lips leave her, hot and swollen until his cheek rests against her leg over his shoulder and his breath is on her. Her free hand goes down to card through his hair, thumb stroking his temple. ]

I will. Come here.

[ And she's tugging at his hand, urging him to climb onto the cot with her. On top of her. Don't make her say silly things like "I want you inside me"; he should already know. It isn't like it'll take long now that he's got her going, but she wants him closer. ]

[It's very, very hard not to ignore what she's asking for and keep going, but this isn't just about what he wants. He's the one who will be leaving in just a few hours, with no indication of when or where they might meet again. If Angela wants to be indulged in a particular way, he surely owes her that much.

When she pulls back, he climbs up to join her, a little breathless from having his face buried between her thighs. He kisses all the way up, practically crawling his way up the cot, fighting the urge to just collapse next to her.

He supports himself over her with one arm, the other starting to fumble at his belt.]

You want this?

[ The kisses get a breathy little laugh out of her as he indulges her, making his way up her body with the drag of lips and the hot feel of his breath, catching his cheeks in her hands when he's between her breasts. If he looks up, her brows are knit, apologetic. ]

Jack, I'm sorry; you're so tired.

[ His arm is strong beside her head, nuzzling her cheek against his wrist and pupils dilating further as he fumbles at his belt, glancing down. Does the way she bites her lip answer your question? ]

Why don't we fish him out and you can see for yourself?

[ She'll help him, nimble fingers dragging leather through the buckle and giving him a little tug as she loosens the tine, getting into his pants all on her own as her thumb pushes the button through the hole and she unzips him as slowly as she can stand, tooth by tooth clicking down until she can slip her fingers under the waist of his briefs, nails scritching in coarse hair. ]

Are you in any pain? You can lay down.

Don't apologize.

[He furrows his eyebrows in turn, not exactly fond of someone bringing attention to the fact that he's more than a little worn out. 76 tries to not to let any more of that show, leaning down to press his mouth to the side of her neck, working lower, his free hand tracing circles around a pert nipple.]

I'm fine.

[It's all but growled into her shoulder as she works open his zipper and dips hands into his briefs. 76 fully intends to put her on top at some point, but he'll have to wait until they extricate him from his pants, first. He sits up a little to push them down his thighs, and he can't exactly complain about the view while he pulls them fully off.

In an effort to convince her that he's not tired or hurting, he's pressing himself against her again as soon as his pants are gone, very nearly overwhelmed by the feeling of so much skin on skin. His hands shamelessly fondle her breasts and his mouth brushes across her collarbone, words coming out when he exhales.]

Miss you, Angela.

[ She'll hum dubiously when his mouth is at the curve of her neck and he's tracing a nipple, hardening further to his touch, but she gave him his chance to let her take over and he didn't take it. He doesn't give her much of a chance to lay hands on him either, finding him swollen once she pushes further and her fingers splay to either side of his cock, guiding him up through the waistband to catch the head between her knuckles and stroke the pad of her thumb over the slit, lips quirked. Just making sure he's ready. She wouldn't call this her favorite part of him, but it's definitely in the top 3. ]

You had better be.

[ She'll just go ahead and wrap those long legs about his waist once he's free of his pants and pull him down against her, choking back a little keen of pleasure with the feel of him rubbing between her lips, warm skin pressed right up along her body until she can slip her arms about his neck and bury fingers in his hair. All his scars are out for her to see and touch and she'll kiss them all before the night is over, but for now she's arching up into his hands on her breasts and her ankles dig into the small of his back in quiet request, using the hands in his hair to guide him back up so she can kiss him.

Angela doesn't believe a word of it when she can see the circles under his eyes and the weariness weighing down his body, but she never minded slow and easy when it came to them. She liked enjoying him as long as she can, even as he mumbles into her chest and she's sure the words go straight to her heart. ]

I miss you, Jack. More than you know.

[ The words are a whisper between them even as one hand slips between them to touch him, urging him to roll his hips against her as the other cradles his head against her, nails raking along his scalp. ]

[76 is pretty sure he has a good idea of how much she misses him, because he's certain that he misses her just the same. He exhales audibly as she finally pulls his cock out of his briefs, running gentle, deft fingers over it as he finds it increasingly difficult not to succumb entirely to the way she touches him. All it really took to get him hard was sitting on his knees in front of her, but now there's an electricity down his spine that he hasn't felt in far too long, and it only makes him want more.

She wraps legs around his waist and he pitches his hips to slide his length up against her opening, mouth searching for whatever part of her he can reach as he all but grinds against her. The wound in his side is little more than a dull throbbing in the face of her hands in his hair and her body under his, but the occasional twinge of pain reminds him it's there. He's being more careful than he needs to, perhaps.

Either way, he can't stifle the audible exhale that escapes him when he finally lines himself up, starting to push in but drawing it out just a little longer.]

Ready?

[It's sort of a rhetorical question.]

[ His words had been hard enough to take; her chest is still tight from those three vulnerable little words, echoing with every beat of her heart, but she has him in her hands and in her arms, and at least for now, here, he's safe. Alive. She's almost past that stab of pain as he grinds down against her and she's doing her best to keep quiet, heels guiding him through every roll of the hips to milk every last millimeter from him.

When her fingertips finally push the tip of him down to her entrance, helping him line up, and he dares pause, she breaks. Hairline fractures, tears welling up in her eyes even as she tries to tease and play it off, voice cracking as she murmurs low. ]

Jack Morrison, you keep me waiting all this time and you dare stall a few more moments?

[ Angela tries not to pull his hair, tries not to tremble as she desperately keeps from crying, thighs squeezing his hips as her hand eases from between them to slip back over his shoulders and hug him tight, a shuddering little sigh as she gets herself back under control. She's been ready for years; don't start doubting her now. ]

[WAIT NO DON'T CRY; that's probably the worst thing that can happen. His eyebrows immediately pinch together, like he's probably thinking he's done something terribly wrong. Maybe he's rustier at this than he wants to admit.]

No, don't--

[There aren't even any comforting words he can offer, but he does look down at her, lifting a hand to brush a thumb across her cheek, like he's trying to catch any tears before they have a chance. He knows he has absolutely no business making sympathetic faces or trying to comfort when he's the one who will be out the door in just a few short hours. It's unfair, and he's making it worse just by existing, but all he can really do is lean down and kiss her, offering the only reassurance he can.]

[ Only one tear escapes when she huffs out a little laugh with his expression, reigning herself back in and nudging at his hips. She looks apologetic enough herself for letting it happen, never intending to let him see her fracture. Angela presses her cheek into his hand and her lashes brush her cheeks for a long moment to find her voice. Steady, quiet. ]

I'm sorry, I didn't mean—

[ But he's kissing her and it wasn't with desperation like before; this time it's gentle and comforting and reassuring, and she meets it without a single tremble of her lips, arms wrapping tighter around him and stroking his back, fingertips trailing over varied scars. Bullet hole, shrapnel spray, knife wound, burn— and on and on. It's a back that's protected so many, and it's strong, and he's still so gentle. There's a soft sound muffled against his mouth and she rolls her hips up to meet him, taking another inch of him into her with a little moan. The second tear he can't catch, but she won't cry. He fits into her so well and fills her with heat, enjoying the feel of his skin against hers to ward off the chill. ]

[There's no point in continuing this conversation (even if he is feeling pretty badly that he's made her cry), and he bends to her instead, letting himself all but fall into her embrace. 76 doesn't hesitate after that, sinking into her fully as he presses his hips forward and she drags fingers down his back.

He moves slowly and takes a long moment to settle into her, exhaling audibly, like he's remembering how they fit together and what to do. He breaks the kiss and presses his mouth against her neck, voice a whispered growl.]

You have to be quiet.

[Not that he thinks she's going to make noise, or that he even has to tell her this in the first place, but it's almost like he's reminding himself, too. Getting caught would be bad enough. Getting caught like this is a possibility he doesn't even want to entertain. It makes it more difficult to fully lose himself in the moment, but damn if he isn't going to try.

He won't wait for her to assure him that she can, in fact, be quiet. She's right--they've waited far too long for this, and he starts to roll his hips against hers.]

[ Neither of them could say their relationship wasn't bittersweet, because it is to a T. A few tears were only natural, and she'd be replaying his words for weeks in the dark of the night and in her quietest moments, over and over. Sometimes she might cry. Sometimes she might smile. Other times it may leave such an ache in her chest she'll have to flatten a hand against her breastbone as if it were a physical hurt she could steady and wait for it to pass. But she'll process and tuck it away with time, as she did everything else between them. Something about this time was different and she'll pinpoint it later on, but for now he's resting his weight in her arms soft and sweet, sheathing himself in her so suddenly she has to suck in a breath with how her body stretches to accommodate him, almost painfully full.

She presses up into him, sealing out the space between them as completely as possible as she clutches at strong shoulders, one hand flattening as it drags back up his spine and she fights to catch her breath before he starts to move, whimpering into his mouth. Every little shift and throb of him within her sets her nerves ablaze, jolts running up and down her spine with how good it felt for him to fill her so perfectly and entirely. It pushes her close to the edge in one fluid movement, body clenching greedily about him. She inhales what he lets out as he breaks the kiss, trying not to hold him so tightly that he can't move as he pleases, easing as he shifts just enough to kiss her neck and rumble something into her skin.

It takes a moment to process, hyper-focused on the heat sunk into her slowly working its way up through her abdomen, through to her spine. The worst she'll do after the growled warning is breathe heavily, the occasional lacing of a whine edging around her voice, but she'll keep as quiet as possible. If for no other reason than to let him lose himself in this. She tips her tips and spreads her legs as much as possible, letting him in as far as she can and squirming for friction, any little bit of stimulation until he finally begins to move and she tips her head back on a silent sound, lips parting over something. Probably his name. ]

Of course—

[ That may be all she can manage by the time he starts rocking his hips, shifting only a few inches at a time, but she meets him with every press of his hips, breath hitching in her throat every time their hips meet and the pressure radiates from her hips. He's always been a big man, but the longer they go between their meetings, the less her body is accustomed to him, and the better it feels to work herself back open for him. Her nails scrabble at his skin as she seeks purchase until she can settle her hands back on his shoulders, kneading. Her lips drag against his temple and through his hair, panting softly with how close she'd already been. It wouldn't take her long to climax at this rate, but she wants to last as long as she can for him. ]

[76 almost laughs--not at her, of course not--at the situation. The sheer ridiculousness of it all means that it feels childish and completely divorced from the reality of things, but there's little else he can possibly do. He tells himself that he's allowed to enjoy this, even if it's probably not good for either of them.

With that in mind, he rolls his hips, pulling out slightly and driving back into her, letting her legs around the small of his back do some of the work. He doesn't want to end anything too soon, of course (and it has been a while for both of them, he assumes), so 76 prolongs his thrusts, holding his hips in place for a long moment every time he pushes into her as far as he can.

A hand creeps up to her face, thumb swiping across her bottom lip, the reminder to be as silent as possible, especially as he increases his pace.]

Good girl.

[He likes to think he can tell when she's getting close (rusty as he is), and isn't about ready to let her go yet, keeping his pace steady, even as she drags white lines across his shoulders.]

[ It is decidedly not good for them, but that never stopped them before. It wouldn't stop them in the future. It keeps them human and it keeps them sane and it keeps them connected, no matter what may try to come between them or what may happen. They would always have this easy relationship that could stretch across the world and still bounce right back. They'd simply spent too much time together for it to be otherwise. Maybe it was ridiculous. She's all right with ridiculous.

Angela squirms the first few times he thrusts back into her and pauses, desperate for the climax she'd been so close to before interrupting his diligent attentions, but she can reign herself back in once she realizes his intentions and tries to bask in the feel of him, the constant friction as he eases in and out of her. It keeps her in an ever-present state of pleasure and soon it's spread throughout her body and thrumming, helping him keep pace with the flex of her legs.

"Good girl" and a little shiver runs through her, turning her head just far enough to catch his thumb between her teeth, feeling the nail under her canine as her tongue laps at the pad and she seals her lips around him, sucking softly. It keeps her quiet, and she tends to his thumb the same way she would if he were to allow her between his legs, swirling her tongue about the tip of his finger before pulling off with a little smile, teeth scraping gently over his skin. Nothing about how he reads her body is rusty and he moves with her all too well, knowing just how far he can push her and just how to touch her, the lazy roll of his hips enough to drive her up the wall.

It's slow and easy and intimate, and she enjoys it so much more when they weren't trying to rush things and she has the chance to steep in the feel of his cock filling her and the press of his body against hers, watching his face and how his brows knit in concentration. Angela hasn't seen him this bare and been able to enjoy so much of him in... actual years. It's difficult to stop touching him and keep herself from looking him over— her lashes flutter closed and her nails brush up the sides of his neck, palms still working at tense muscle. ]

[He thrusts steadily, watching her intently as she takes fingers into her mouth, bending down to press lips to her neck. Since she has him held with her legs hooked around his waist and her arms around his shoulders, his other hand is free, and it gropes for her breast, kneading it gently and rolling a nipple between two fingers. All the while, his mouth seeks out all her sensitive spots--up her neck, under her jaw.

It's not long, however, before he shifts, a change of position seemingly imminent.]

Come on.

[76 trusts she'll know what he's doing and what he wants her to do when he starts to roll to the side, hands on her waist to help her on top of him without pulling out.]

Let me look at you.

[She's close, and it might be unfair of him to bring her to the edge and then switch their positions, but he wants to see her riding him, take in all of her in every way that he can.]

Redemption Romance

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just. terrible icons for this. all around.

SAME THO FRIEND.... SAME... I FOUND LIKE TWO

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rereading that last tag like "say 'hips' one more time, me, SAY IT"

hips are important

I may have heard a rumor once that they don't lie

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