Honestly I think I'm just really thirsty for smut and I've read all the existing smut stories so many times my brain decided that I needed to add something else to the mix. (When in the hell did Nicole become a smut writer? I haven't gone to church in like seven years so maybe there's some correlation there.)

Also, it should be noted that the last couple smut stories I've written have been when I had somewhere to be, be it work, checking out of a hotel, my bed so I wouldn't be too exhausted to work in the morning, etc. I can't write this shit at my leisure, apparently.


The past few weeks, Walter had been glad when Cabe left for the evening. His presence had been making the genius increasingly uncomfortable, and it was always something of a relief when a visual reminder of everything that was slowly culminating would cease to be present. Today, things were a little different. Walter had been glad when Cabe stayed later, even after Sylvester had gone home and Happy and Toby had successfully found zip ties in Paige's desk drawer and taken off with them.

But he was also glad when Cabe had decided to go home tonight. Walter was glad that he understood why he was feeling what he was, and glad that he still had the opportunity before the trial to spend time with the older man. But processing his emotions was incredibly mentally taxing, and there was only so much he could handle in one day. He hated having to admit that he had limitations. But there really wasn't any other conclusion to draw.

"Hey."

Walter looked up from his computer to see his girlfriend entering the loft. "Hey." He stood up, meeting her halfway between his desk and the stairs, going in for the hug and letting it linger.

"I'm really, really proud of you, Walter," she whispered, her head on his shoulder.

"Well, it was your doing."

She pulled back slightly, just enough so she could see him. "Walter."

"Hmmm?"

"Growing is a two way street. I can tell you what you're doing and why, and I can give you advice, but that doesn't make you a better or stronger person. You have to do that yourself. You don't give yourself enough credit."

There were a lot of things Walter O'Brien didn't understand. But it baffled him how Paige, the expert on emotional quotient, never seemed to realize how entirely essential she still was. He thought he would never be where he was without every bit of help she'd given him, and she gave him a lot more credit than he would have assigned to himself.

Maybe that was one of the reasons why they worked.

It was certainly on the endless list of reasons why he loved her so much.

"I would like to…be intimate with you," he said. "But I do know it's been a long day."

She smiled, in a way that told him she was going to agree as well as reassure him that what she wanted to say was anything but well, I'd really rather not, but okay. He felt guilty even bringing it up, after the day they'd had. He was sure she was going to be sore in the morning as things were. "I just…uh…" I know Cabe needs me. But I need you, too. He couldn't figure out how to say that to her. Then it occurred to him that he could just say it. "I know that Cabe needs me," he said in a low voice. "But just as he needs me, I…I need you."

The moment the words were out of his mouth he realized his potential mistake. "I mean…obviously not…the same way…"

Paige put a finger against his lips, causing him to trail off, bringing back sensory recall from the first night they spent together. The memories sent a shiver down his spine. "I'm on board," she said, then lifted her eyebrows. "As long as you do not mention one, Cabe, and two, your meat tube."

Walter suddenly realized how unfortunate his word choice in the cave had been. "Oops."

She gave him an amused smile, leaning her whole body in against his as she touched his lips with hers. "You're lucky you looked hot holding that gun earlier."

Walter hadn't given a second thought to his brandishing Frank's pistol on the bluff, but he knew how to respond to her. Raising his eyebrows and dropping his voice, he touched his nose lightly to hers. "Mmm, you liked that, huh?"

"Take me to bed," she said, her voice sounding breathless and her cheeks pinking ever so slightly. Walter reached down to find her knees, sliding his other arm around her back as he scooped her up, for no other reason than he had recently figured out he could. They were less than ten feet from his bed. He kissed her as he walked over, needing the feel of her lips on his, her tongue against them, something familiar and safe.

When he laid her on the bed, there was a rush, on both their parts, to remove clothing, Paige wiggling on the mattress and Walter straightening up. Paige scooted up the bed, settling against the pillows and smiling up at him. "Come here, nerd."

Walter smiled affectionately at her, crawling onto the mattress and parting her knees. "Kiss me, Walter," she murmured, reaching for him, placing a hand on the back of his neck and gently drawing him down. Walter placed his mouth back over her parted lips, his tongue stroking her gently. She dropped her chin, taking his lower lip between both of hers and sucking lightly, humming against him. Walter moved to kissing her neck, then farther down, planting kisses against one of her breasts before locking his lips around her nipple.

Paige squirmed underneath him, sighing quietly, and Walter felt one of her hands come up to rest in his hair. He loved this. He loved making her smile and hearing her laugh but he was the only one who could get her like this, and he took considerable pride in that. He slid a hand up to her other breast, massaging it gently with his thumb.

"Good shit," Paige breathed, and Walter took his lips off of her, raising his head ever so slightly and chuckling quietly. He almost never heard her swear, and for some reason, the phrase she'd just uttered was incredibly amusing to him.

Paige lifted her eyebrows, a grin on her face. "Stop laughing at me," she said, stroking the side of his face.

Walter grinned at her before inching himself forward and putting his lips back on hers. She cupped his face with her hands as they kissed, an act of intimacy that was so simple and yet sometimes still threatened to overwhelm him.

He slid a hand down her body, stroking her hip for a moment before slipping between her legs. He was met with clear evidence that she was ready for him. Shifting his weight, moving his knees further apart and settling between hers, he positioned himself and entered her slowly. Paige shifted her own weight, and once he was sure she was comfortable, he lowered his upper body again, catching her lips between his own. She slid her hands through his hair as they rocked together – he had come to realize that she liked his curls, and had debated growing his hair back to the length it had been when they met. The idea of her running her fingers through the hair he had then made a quiet groan escape his lips.

Their lips briefly separated, Paige murmured his name and lifted her legs, wrapping them around his hips. Walter kissed her again. It was one of the things he liked best about this position, as "vanilla" as some of their friends might call it. His few sexual experiences before her had lacked any romanticism – he hadn't even believed love was a real feeling until her. It had never meant anything, and yet in the past few months he had come to wonder why in the world he had agreed to those encounters when it was so obvious to him now how much he had been missing out on. He was glad that he knew now. He couldn't imagine going through life without experiencing this with her.

She had told him something similar, the night after he'd thrown away all her beauty products. That had surprised him. He knew she had had meaningful encounters before. But her last serious relationship had been, at this point, almost a lifetime ago. She had been through so much since then, they'd been through so much together, that it seemed almost miraculous that they had ended up here together.

"Walter," Paige breathed again, lightly scratching his scalp. Her other hand was on his back, and he could feel her nails pressing against his skin. He let out a little groan. The loft was beginning to fade away, blurring around them until he swore someone could be standing in the corner watching them and he wouldn't even notice.

Walter lifted his head and scanned the room. Just in case.

Paige took the opportunity to slide her hands over his chest, caressing his nipples, keeping her fingers in place even as he dropped down to kiss her again. Their lips were having to part for air more often now, both of them panting lightly, moans escaping more frequently. Her muscles were flexing around him, the double stimulation drawing him closer to the edge. "You're killing me," he moaned, burying his face in her neck.

"Don't stop," she responded, her voice quiet, nearly a whisper, but sounding as desperate as he felt. He focused on his breathing, not wanting to allow himself a release until she'd had hers, but he was almost desperately close and didn't take him long to realize that if they continued like this, he was going to get there first. He stopped thrusting, grunting with the effort, and straightened up, pushing two fingers inside her and using his thumb to rub her swelled nerves. Paige whimpered at the stimulation, reaching for his other hand and wrapping both of hers around it, squeezing hard. "Oh God," she managed, biting down on her lower lip and holding eye contact with him. He increased pace and pressure with his thumb, his fingers curling inside her, and his name rushed from her lips, the same desperation as before in a higher pitch. One of her hands let go of his and went to his other wrist, and he understood, glad she wanted him back inside her because he wanted the same thing. He withdrew his hand, used it to guide himself back into her, and then placed it firmly on the mattress, his hips moving at a slightly faster pace than before.

"God, Paige," he groaned against her ear, feeling how close she was and teetering on the edge himself. She'd told him before that if she was close enough, and they were solely relying on her pills for protection, the feeling of his climax could get her there, and he hoped that that was the case this time because he knew he was past the point where stopping would make any sort of difference. He closed his eyes – his vision blurred when he came this hard and that always distressed him – and groaned into her ear, pleased when she followed him mere seconds later, her muscles spasming around him nearly a dozen times. He rocked his hips against hers slowly, trying to draw it out for her, her vocalizations alerting him to his success. She wasn't overly loud, it was more the types of sounds that she made, and Walter loved that about her, because there were so many possibilities and each one told him something a little different. He supposed he hadn't quite learned them all yet. But no one ever accused Walter Patrick O'Brien of not loving learning.

He put a hand on the side of Paige's face and kissed her, not having his breath back yet but so addicted to kissing her he didn't even care. Thankfully, he knew she was the same way. He never felt like a dork for letting their kisses linger because even the ones that weren't leading to anything more always felt magnetic, and she seemed as reluctant to pull away as he did. There were certainly worse things they could be obsessed with than each other's lips. He shifted off of her, both of them turning onto their sides so they could keep kissing, and she scooted close, pressing her body against his. "Wow."

"Uh – huh," he agreed, resting his forehead against hers. She smiled, lifting one of her hands, revealing a closed fist. He grinned, making a fist of his own and tapping it against hers. They both chuckled, rubbing noses, and then she kissed him again. "Do you feel better?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"I'm an okay distraction, huh?"

She was joking, but he still felt the need to clarify. "You're far more than a distraction, Paige."

"Good. You too."

He reached up and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Do you have to go home tonight?"

"Yeah," she said. "I know he's old enough to spend nights by himself but he has that Gen Ed Humanities project due tomorrow and he said he'd like me to look over it.'

"Understandable." The last thing Walter wanted to do was be responsible for Paige and Ralph losing time together. But he still wished she didn't have to go.

"I know," she said, as if she was reading his mind. "Me too."