Hiya! This is a little one-shot I've just churned out. I've been meaning to write for a while, I just needed to get into the swing of things :) Sorry for any mistakes, it's late and I take full responsibility. Anyway, enjoy and let me know what you think.
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Ashes to Ashes. Make love not lawsuits 3
NOT A WORD
O N E S H O T
There was no concept of time after the incident. They didn't quite know how long they'd been lying there. Their breathing had steadied and the combined sweat on their skin was cooling, rivers of their sordid passion arching down over their collar bones and down the symmetry of their chests. Their eyes were wide in the darkness, looking up at the ceiling, each reliving the whole thing again. Each knew the other was awake, but neither had said a word since they had each screamed themselves hoarse with each others names. Gene could feel her warmth under the duvet as a simple reminder that it wasn't just another glorified dream of his.
The urge to deliver a smutty comment right now was biting. The number of things he could say to her now. Oh and the thrill he'd get every day when he'd see her sashay into work with her low-cut tops and tight jeans encasing her long, effortlessly gorgeous legs, knowing he'd already seen them; uncovered. That thrill would be sweet. He was 99% certain she was awake; her breathing was slower, but not even enough that she would be asleep. He'd planned out the punch line to his smutty comment and was a breath away from opening his mouth when suddenly from the darkness Alex's smooth, articulate lilt punctured the silence.
"What did we just do?" She whispered, Hunt aware just by the tone that she was smiling. He went to answer, perhaps even, excusing the pun, slipping in the odd comment at her expense. However, wise to his humour, Alex interjected her hand suddenly apparent on the bare flesh just below his navel. For a second he felt aroused, excited by the prospect of a possible round two, but again from the depths of the darkness she spoke again.
"Not a word to anyone about this, Hunt." Her soft, arousing touch became a little more forewarning when her nails suddenly threatened him loosely. "Not a word about the screaming, the biting, the begging and especially not about the…" She trailed off, but he understood her fluently, a smirk glittering his mouth as he recalled it again, proudly. Her nails traced his skin and he felt himself tense as she whispered again.
"Not a word."
R&R would be nice.
And maybe a cup of tea and a cake? ;)