OOM: Night Before the Allpocalypse

[trigger_man]

 It's quieter in the upstairs hallway, and there's less evidence of impending disaster up here. It's almost enough to allow you to forget what's going on downstairs, or to write it off.

Almost. Not quite.

Jack turns to Beckett as they reach his room.  "You want to come in for one more drink?"

He doesn't want to say it out loud, but there's a part of him that doesn't want to be alone just yet.

Comments

[fanofthegenre]

In the end, the sound of his voice is what she needs, that low rumble that pulses from his lips against her own at the same time that his fingers curve deep, wringing the tension from her body until she shudders and comes with a soft cry.

When she manages to utter a sound again, it's a deep moan, residual shudders coursing through her.

[trigger_man]

He keeps moving as she begins to shudder with release, the strokes of his hand slower, more gentle. He can feel her inner muscles spasm against his hand, and and he lets out a small moan himself, imagining what it would feel like with his cock inside her; the kind of thought he hasn't had for years.

Eventually, when she relaxes again, he pulls his hand back, kissing the corner of her mouth so she can breathe.

"Good?" he asks in a hoarse whisper.

[fanofthegenre]

She nods, wordless at first, her breath still quick until she can get it back under control again, even if it feels as though her heart is close to beating straight out of her chest, tendrils of inner fire licking steadily inside her as she opens her eyes to look up at him.

"Yeah," she manages, shaking slightly. "More than."

[trigger_man]

"Good." He stretches out next to her on his side, propping himself on one elbow so he can keep kissing her. He free hand rests on her stomach, his thumb drawing a slow arc against her skin.

He has to admit, it does something for his confidence knowing that he can give her pleasure. The fact that he can still feel arousal is both comforting and...frightening. Comforting because he knows he hasn't been stripped of that little element of his humanity as well, frightening because it involves emotions that he's hasn't been sure he wants to learn to feel again.

But on this night, quite possibly their last night, he's not as willing to let the fear take over and make him push the comfort away.

[fanofthegenre]

"What about you?" she asks, whispering against his lips. Her hand moves to his wrist and then slides up, over his forearm and around the bone of his elbow, along his bicep and rounding the muscle of his shoulder.

There's no denying she wants this, wants him, but only as far as he's willing to give. A part of her doesn't want to be selfish, and yet - there's the not knowing whether she'll get a chance like this one that makes something ache deep in her chest, makes her tilt up to kiss him with a sigh of longing.

[trigger_man]

"I want this, I...I want you," he says a little hesitantly. Expressing his feelings isn't exactly his strong suit, though if she needs evidence, the sizeable bulge in the front of his sweats should be ample proof.

"I'm just...not sure whether I can...follow through."

[fanofthegenre]

"Slowly?" she whispers, her thumb gently caressing the side of his face, mapping the angle of his jaw.

"I want this too. You."

[trigger_man]

"Slowly could help," he says, wrapping his arm around her waist and kissing her again, deeper this time.

[fanofthegenre]

They don't have anything to get to tomorrow - nothing she's exactly eager for, at least.

She winds both arms around his neck, slowly coaxing him to lay over her, thigh sliding up to notch at his hip.

[trigger_man]

He moves with her, pulling their bodies closer until he can feel his hips fit against hers. He runs a hand down her thigh, though she might be able to feel it tremble a little with nervous anticipation.

[fanofthegenre]

She murmurs something that ends up lost in the kiss, sighing when he fits in against her and she can feel the weight of him, his hardness against her inner thigh.

It's possibly close to embarrassing, how badly she wants it, and there's no doubt in her mind that he can feel it too by now.

[trigger_man]

He wants her as much as she wants him; that much should be clear. Almost involuntarily, he rocks his hips against hers, letting out a small groan as the pressure in his groin increases.

He pulls his lips from hers just long enough to swallow and take a deep breath. "Help me get these off," he says, his voice wavering just a little.

[fanofthegenre]

She nods quickly, hastily, her hands slipping down to shove fingertips under the waistband, curving slightly to push the fabric down over his hips.

She'll seize the opportunity to slip out of her one remaining piece of clothing, leaving herself completely bare beneath him, palms sliding up his sides in a gentle kneading.

[trigger_man]

He pushes his sweats off his hips quickly, like ripping off a Band-Aid, doing it before self-consciousness about his scars outweighs the arousal that's clouding his mind. Besides, the faster he does it, the faster he can lean against her again, and the less time either of them has to see the scars on his lower half.

He moans again as he presses his body against her, bare skin against bare skin, his heart beating so hard he's sure she can feel it.

[fanofthegenre]

She gasps as his body slides to fit against hers, hips arching into his before she can stop herself, her pulse hammering in her ears while her hands gently move over his back.

"Jack," she whispers again, slightly more desperate, letting him ease between her thighs with another soft whimper.

[trigger_man]

He shifts between her thighs, the head of his cock nudging between her warm, slick folds.

"God, Kate," he whispers against her neck. He can't wait, and she certainly feels ready.

His hand ghosting over her hip, he pulls back just far enough to position himself at her entrance.

[fanofthegenre]

She forgets how to breathe in that second between, the aligning of their hips and that nudge of his cock - it's like a current pulsing through her body, blood racing.

"Please," she whispers, turning her head to utter the word in his ear. "I want you to, I'm ready."

[trigger_man]

A deep breath and he leans into her, the air rushing out of his lungs as he feels her warmth wrap around him. He pulls back a bit and pushes in again, deeper this time, burying himself in her, joining himself to her.

[fanofthegenre]

Her breath leaves her altogether, all at once and in a rush as she's filled so wholly, so completely.

She can only cling to him as all coherent thought flies out of her head, rhythm and instinct slipping in to take its place.

[trigger_man]

He starts to rock his hips against hers, finding a rhythm as her hips rise to meet him. Every thought melts away, instinct taking over. Nothing else exists other than the movement of her body with his, the sound of their ragged breaths, the slap of skin meeting skin.

As he moves, the throbbing ache inside him builds. He wants more, wants to hold off climax so he can stay right here, in this haze of arousal as long as possible, and to make sure he takes Beckett with him.

[fanofthegenre]

She can feel him deep, pulsing hot and hard, each exhale becoming a tiny whimper with each thrust of his hips, and she seizes the opportunity to run her hands over him, fingertips kneading the muscles of his back as they tense and relax.

Even if this is their last night, a part of her imagines she'll find a way to remember this.

[trigger_man]

He moans against her mouth, kissing her in between gasped breaths. With one hand, he encourages her to wrap her legs around him, to pull her hips upward so he can thrust in harder, deeper.

"Oh fuck, Kate," he breathes against her neck, his control starting to slip.

The world could end right now, and he'd go happily.

[fanofthegenre]

Her legs lash around his waist, changing the angle with a tilt of her hips, her next gasp turning to an outright moan as he slides deeper.

"Don't stop," she pleads, clutching at his shoulders. "God, it's - it's too good."

[trigger_man]

Jack isn't sure he could stop if he wanted to and right now, stopping is the last thing he wants to do. Stopping would mean letting go of these sensations, of that wonderful ache that just grows more intense by the minute.

It's not entirely something he can control though, and he's not sure how much longer he's going to be able to hang in there.

[fanofthegenre]

There's a rhythm they find that works, a slow pace that builds in urgency and intensity until se can barely take a breath without greedily moaning for more - and even as she feels her body beginningto spiral, it already feels like it's too soon, not long enough. She's close, fingertips digging in as her body draws tight against him.

"Jack, I - " It's all she manages to grit out before the wave hits her, swift and coursing, and she arches into him with a cry and a shudder that feels neverending.