Title: Pent Up
Author: Night_Lotus
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 660
Disclaimer: I neither own Chuck nor its marvelous characters, but I do have fun bringing them out to play.
Author's Note: Casey understands.
Frustration. They both felt it every day as they employed extreme measures to protect the Asset and defend their country.
It asserted itself in different ways. Sarah masked it with a cheerful smile while playing the part of the perfect, all-American girlfriend during family dinners at the Bartowski's. She reined it in every time she suppressed the urge to yank down the waistbands of the misogynistic creeps that hit on her at the Orange Orange and fill their shorts with pant loads of mango-flavored froyo. She let it out of its cage when she pumped molten hot lead into arms dealers, assassins and rogue agents.
It was Casey's constant companion, hungrily gnawing away at his paper thin self control. He vocalized it through guttural grunts, scathing sarcasm, and perpetual threats to wring the "moron's" scrawny neck. It was carefully contained while he cultivated his prized bonsai, but it was unleashed when he slaughtered the enemy and blood surged freely from the bullet wounds and lacerations that marred the flesh of him and his opponents.
Frustration. It bound Sarah and Casey together and forged an unspoken understanding between them.
"You hit like a girl, Walker," Casey mocked, as he easily blocked her punch. "Yeah?" she questioned as she snuck in a hard kick to his shin, which elicited a pained grunt. "And you're getting old and slow, Casey," she retorted. Sarah noticed his narrowed blue gaze, but before the danger claxon started chiming in her head, she was flat on her back, pinned to the ground under his considerable bulk, her arms and legs immobile.
The Asset was secure and their evening was free. They were sparring in the training room of the Castle, as they often did between missions, to hone their combat skills, remain field ready and release some of that pent up frustration.
"You're trapped now, Walker. How are you going to escape?" he snarked, careful to keep his forehead outside of head butting range. As the shocked expression faded from her face, Sarah's eyes widened, and she whispered in a shaky voice "What if I don't want to escape?"
Casey responded by slamming his lips down on hers, impaling her mouth with his tongue. As she moaned and arched under him as much as she could while still bearing his weight, he released her arms and hands and supported the majority of his mass on his forearms. She acted immediately, pulling his t-shirt out of the waistband of his sweats, while sucking his tongue further into her mouth.
They broke contact long enough for him to tug his shirt off while she divested herself of her sports bra. When they reunited, he rolled her on top of him and removed her form-fitting leggings and surprisingly austere white panties. They continued, jockeying for position and removing restrictive articles of clothing, until they were both bare, skin on skin.
Casey was, at the moment, in the dominant position and seized the opportunity to plunge into her tight, wet, heat. Sarah gripped his buttocks, urging him to move harder, faster and deeper. "I. Won't. Break. Casey. Don't. Hold. Back," she panted as she thrust her hips upward, matching his movements.
Their already sweat-slicked bodies glided against each other as he moved within her. Mouths met and tongues tangled as they took turns riding, rolling around on the mats and pounding each other into the ground. As their frenzied love making reached a fever pitch, Sarah arched underneath Casey, her orgasm ripping through her body, her muscles squeezing him tightly. He slid his hands underneath her bucking body and secured her against him as he exploded inside of her, biting down hard on the sensitive skin where her neck met her shoulder.
"You understand, don't you?" she asked, as she lay in his arms, her head resting on his chest. "Yeah, I do," he answered as he stroked her hair. He kissed the top of her head. "We'll deal with our demons together."