Button-Downs and Tank Tops
"You're wearing my shirt." Her voice was low, gravely. More so than usual, and it brought a simultaneous shiver and smile as Maura stood in the kitchen, her hands stilling as she stirred the freshly brewed coffee.
"Yes." Maura glanced over her shoulder, aware of the loose fit of the button-down, the way it allowed the hem to dangle open, so inviting from this angle. It hung just low enough on her hips to entice without revealing. She enjoyed the feel of the cotton and polyester blend against her skin, the lingering smell of Jane's shampoo and the earthy scent of her skin. A shirt Jane wore to work. It represented everything dear to her heart. Everything she loved.
The dark eyes wandered, slowly. Taking their time to explore as Jane leaned against the doorway to the kitchen. Maura's skin heated, just a light simmer, as the gaze invoked memories of skin against skin. Sheets and whispered confessions and laughter.
Jane wore a dark tank top, ruffled and wrinkled from its previous hasty removal and long stint on her bedroom floor the previous night. It rode up slightly at the hip, revealing a hint of smooth abdomen just above the hem of her panties. Her curls were a mess, and it brought another smile to her lips.
Maura turned to lean against the counter, sipping the fresh brew and enjoying the hot refreshment as it warmed her chest. The movement allowed the unbuttoned shirt to open.
"Do you want it back?" she asked, once those wandering eyes met hers once more. The playfulness in the question surprised her, sent a small thrill down her middle when Jane answered with a smirk.
It was easy. Like it should be.
Jane pushed off the doorframe and sauntered closer, managing to make a tank top and panties look completely normal for morning attire at Maura's house. Maura hoped it became a regular occurrence.
She leaned close, pressing her side into Maura's as she found and cradled her own fresh coffee.
"What if I said yes?" she said. The dark eyes, still soft with sleep, and perhaps something else, watched her over the rim of her mug as she took a sip. They closed and a sound of pleasure escaped from her throat. "Thanks," she murmured, raising the mug slightly.
Maura nodded in acknowledgement and turned so they were facing one another. Jane rubbed the edge of the collar between thumb and forefinger. Her expression was contemplative, pleased. And still that flicker of mischief remained, swirling everything together into a sight that made it difficult for Maura to remain still.
Maura shimmied her shoulders in the way she knew Jane liked. "I've grown rather fond of it." Another sip of coffee and a smile, this one challenging. "You may have to take it from me."
Jane grinned and raised an eyebrow. "That so?" She took one more, larger, sip before setting the cup aside. The clink against the counter sounded loud, almost ominous. In a way that sent a pleasant shiver along Maura's skin.
She tilted forward into Jane's space, resting her hands just above her hipbones, feeling the familiar heat of her body beneath the thin layer of clothing. Always running hot. It drew her closer. Her thumb swiped across the patch of olive skin at her waist, and she watched the corners of Jane's eyes crinkle just before she leaned down. And then she was kissing her and everything slowed. It was just Jane and the warmth of soft lips moving against hers, becoming reacquainted. She worked her hands under the tank top, tracing the pads of her fingers along an expanse of skin – some smooth, some scarred – that she had grown to cherish during the night. Her caresses wandered, lower…higher, eliciting a hitch of breath against Maura's cheek. Jane moved into her, meeting angles with curves so that there was no space. Only this, just them.
Maura pressed up onto her toes as fingers tangled in her hair, brushing it away from her face. A scarred palm wrapped around her neck, squeezing as Jane tilted her head, angling in a way that allowed the kiss to deepen into more. Much more. Heat shot through her, drawing out a noise from deep in her throat. Her toes curled.
She felt a hand start to slip the shirt off one shoulder.
Pulling away, Maura dragged her teeth along Jane's lower lip before releasing it. A small, breathy chuckle escaped her in the resultant pause as they still shared air. Jane's answering smile was full, light, as they brushed noses.
Then Maura was gone, rounding the corner with the tails of the white button-down trailing behind.
There was a stunned pause, in which her bare feet slapped singularly against the hardwood floor, then Jane's deep-throated, surprised laugh chased her into the living room and she felt hands catch her about the waist. She twisted, caught Jane by surprise before she lost her momentum, and sent them both sprawling down onto the couch.
"Maur!" Jane exclaimed, hands gripping the shirt's material as Maura propped up on her elbows to not crush the body beneath her.
"Yes?" she asked, admiring the view of Jane curtained by her hair.
Jane just shook her head, gazing up at her.
"I said you'd have to take it." She leaned closer to murmur in her ear. "I never said it'd be easy."
As she pulled back, the challenge gleamed in rounded cheeks and deep caramel eyes, poised to act. Maura's chest tightened. That look. That look right there. It was a memory Maura would keep tucked away for years to come, to pull out and caress when times grew hard.
Jane reached for the button-down, and Maura laughed as she rebuffed the attempt, pressing Jane's arms into the cushion. She was careful to keep it light, careful not to retrain. Not to grip too firmly lest the playful pressure on delicate wrists become something else entirely. Something smothering.
But it didn't. The humor continued, as did the game. Wriggling and writhing. Maura relished every moment.
Laughter like this was not something she was used to. In her experience, sex and foreplay could be intense, it could be fun, it could be serious. But never had it been all three at once. Never had she found herself smiling and, yes, laughing so often with someone.
The struggling stopped abruptly and she felt Jane go limp under her.
Maura pulled up, out of breath, to bring Jane into focus. "I win?" She tried to keep the hope from her voice. It was just a game, after all.
Jane chuckled, the movement bouncing against Maura's own abdomen, and her face softened. "You've already won a lot of things."
She tucked a strand of hair behind Maura's ear. The atmosphere shifted with the tender gesture.
"I…would agree with that," Maura said as she felt Jane's hands slip beneath the shirt to encircle her waist. Those hands played havoc with her heart. Maura ducked her head and pressed a kiss to the delicate expanse of throat on display. Jane's hum vibrated through her chest and into her own lips. It awoke a different kind of heat that rolled through her veins, asking for release.
Their bodies moved of their own accord, settling, fitting against each other in a way that was decidedly less funny and much more intimate. The promise sizzled across Maura's skin and settled in her bones. She could get used to this.
She leaned down and kissed the woman beneath her. Once. Again. Leisurely. She pressed emotion into the simple contact that said much more than words ever could. Long legs tangled with hers.
"You look good in my clothes," Jane mumbled, the words muffled against her lips as she felt scarred hands traveling downwards, rustling under a special cotton and polyester blend.
Maura smiled into their kiss.
The shirt would stay.
…
A/N: A short pic fic based on a gif from tumblr. Blame Rose for this. It's all her fault. Fluff! All of it fluff! Bah! If you want to see the gif, you can find it on my tumblr page. Directions on my profile.