Walsh/Beaumont, pre-relationship.

This is a Jeremy Renner appreciation story, plain and simple.

"Man, I've got a headache. What are the chances we're going to see some action in the next couple hours?" They were on a protection detail on one of the private floors of the nicest hotel in town. It was 1:00 AM, and they were settled in for the next two hours.

Walsh sighed and leaned back against the wall. "Next to none, unfortunately."

"Alright." Beaumont reached her hands up behind her head to undo her perpetual bun. He stared as she shook out a wave of dark curls. She began combing her fingers through them, and noticed him looking at her oddly.

"What?"

"Nothing." There was a pause. "I've just never seen you with your hair down before."

"Yeah, that's because it's a pain in the ass."

"It's beautiful."

She quirked an eyebrow at him, but said, "Thanks."

Another pause stretched between them.

"If it's a pain in the ass why don't you cut it?"

"Because it's only a pain in the ass when I'm working."

"You're always working."

"I know. But if I cut it... it's like admitting that work runs my life."

She pressed her fingers against her temples.

"Come here," Walsh said. He gestured to the floor between his feet.

"What?"

"Come here, I can help you with that headache." She was confused, but she did what he told her to anyway, settling down between his knees with her back to him. "My mom used to get hairpin headaches all the time," he explained, sinking his fingers into her hair.

"Okay," Alison said as she got comfortable, "But if your massages are anything like your cooking, you'll be paying for my trip to the chiropractor."

They weren't. He ran his fingers through her hair gently. A light touch raised goosebumps on her scalp, only to be soothed away by his callused hands a moment later. He took his time, rubbing circles along her hairline. When he applied pressure to her temples, she made a small noise of appreciation. Then he tilted her head forward so he could press his thumbs into the base of her skull, and then slowly down her neck.

Despite being caught up in the massage, Alison found herself noticing other things too. Particularly the way the tips of Walsh's fingers brushed her clavicles as his thumbs worked a knot in her neck. It gave her a oddly warm feeling, the sensation of his rough hands against delicate skin. Then the knot gave, and she let out a slightly embarrassing moan.

"Good?" He sounded slightly smug.

"Extremely. You missed your calling, my friend."

He continued to work her neck and shoulders skillfully, and eventually she stopped caring about the noises she was making. Slowly, he made his way back up her neck, the massage having somehow turned into a series of soft caresses as he wound down. He finally finished by running his hands through her hair again, combing it out and watching it slide between his fingers.

She made a move to slump backwards against him, but to her surprise Walsh's hands caught her shoulders to stop her.

"Whoa," he said. "Sorry, but if you lean back right now it's going to be really awkward for at least one of us."

"Oh," she said, flushing. Though not entirely with embarrassment.

"Sorry."

"No, it's… I guess I was being a bit too vocal."

"It wasn't that. I mean, it contributed, but…" He wound a curl between his fingers. "Your hair really is gorgeous."

She raised an eyebrow. "You got a fetish or something?"

"Not really a fetish. I'd call it an… appreciation."

Alison wasn't sure what motivated her next move. She turned around so she was kneeling facing him, and he met her eyes with an unreadable expression. Then she dropped her gaze down to the bulge in his pants. She brought one hand up to his knee and started to move it up his thigh, but he grabbed it before she could make it very far.

"Whoa, hey. I don't know what I did to make you think I—"

"Well, for starters, you got a hard-on just from playing with my hair."

"No, that's not what I mean. I mean, I wasn't working an angle on you or anything. I'm not looking for you to return the favor."

"Seriously, Walsh, do I seem like the kind of woman that does that? Any man who ever tried to obligate me to have sex ended up in the ER." He chuckled, and she lifted up on her knees so that her stomach was pressed between his legs and her face was close to his. "I want to, Jason. Don't you know the quickest way to turn a woman on is to show her how bad you want her? And to give her a massage. So unless you've got some other objection…"

He quirked an amused eyebrow. "We can't have sex on detail, Alison."

The grin she gave him was wicked as she sat back on her heels and ran her hands over his thighs. "We're not. You're on detail; I'm taking a ten-minute break, during which I can do whatever I want. And what I want is to have your cock in my mouth."

His eyebrows went up, which was about as close as Walsh ever got to looking shocked. "Well," he said, "I certainly wouldn't want to stop you from doing whatever you like on your break." He leaned back in his chair, scanning their surroundings. "I'll just be here. On detail. Doing my job."

She pressed her hand against the bulge in his pants, then undid them quickly and reached inside to brush her fingers along the hot skin there. She glanced up, but Walsh wasn't looking at her. She pulled him out of his pants and gave him a slow stroke, still to no reaction. She smiled.

"Oh, so we're going to play that game, are we?" she murmured.

"You say something?" He glanced down at her with apparent disinterest, but she could tell by the intense look in his eye he liked what he saw.

"Hm-mm," Alison hummed, shaking her head so that her lips brushed the head of his cock. Finally she dipped her head down and ran the tip of her tongue up the underside.

She took a few minutes to tease him, watched his jaw work as he tried not to react. But when she closed her lips over his head and sucked hard, he let out a shuddery, "Fuck," and the game was over. She began bobbing her head up and down, letting his cock slide between her lips as she worked him with her tongue. His fingers, which had been balled into fists at his sides up to this point, pushed her hair back from her face and combed through it. He didn't apply any force, just rested his hands on top of her head, but she could tell what he liked from the way his grip tightened convulsively.

She began moving more quickly, her mouth following her hand on the downstroke. When she met his gaze again, he was giving her the hardest eyefuck she'd even experienced from anyone. It was enough to make her moan against him, which in turn made him tilt his head back, eyes rolling up.

"Fuck, I'm close." The pressure on her head lifted, giving her the option of taking him out of her mouth before he came. Instead, she pushed forward, taking him as deep as she could, letting the muscles of her throat tighten around his head. He made a deep guttural noise and stiffened under her, and then he was coming down her throat in powerful spurts.

She kept her mouth on him afterward as he rested his head against the wall and panted. When she finally let him slip from between her lips, he tucked himself in quickly and zipped up. Then he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and offered her a handkerchief with a completely un-smug smile.

As Alison wiped her mouth, she considered what a walking contradiction this man was. Rough and masculine, yet he carried a handkerchief in his pocket. Forceful, even a bit of an ass, but apparently incredibly considerate when it came to sex. She stood, feeling just a little bit awkward, and looked at her watch. Their shift had passed extremely quickly, and now there was only about half an hour left before someone came to relieve them.

"It's 2:30," she said as she handed back his handkerchief. He looked at her with an indiscernible expression. Then, before she had time to react, he grabbed her waist and pulled her into his lap so she was straddling him. She landed against his solid chest and quirked an eyebrow at him.

"I guess," he said as his eyes dragged down her body, "I won't have time to return the favor. But I do have time to do this—" And he kissed her sweetly.

"That was incredible," he said softly when they separated. "And now, you're going to sit in your chair, and I'm going to spend the next twenty minutes telling you everything I plan to do to you when we get out of here."

"Yeah?" she said and leaned down to kiss him again. This night sure had taken an unexpected turn. He broke away from her and removed his hands from her waist, making it clear that it was time for her to stand up. Alison moved back into her chair, which seemed much more uncomfortable after her stint in Walsh's lap. Or maybe that was just the arousal that made her want to squirm in her seat.

She turned her head to look at him, and found he had fixed her with that same intense, shudder-inducing eyefuck as before. She gave him a mischievous smile. "Well?" she asked.

"Well, for starters," he said. "I'm going to find out what those gorgeous curls look like spread over my pillow…"