Title: (The Next Best Thing to) Being There
Author: November9Noir
Rating: R, M for , for voyeurism and sexual situations
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from 'Person of Interest,' nor am I profiting from this work in any way.
Author's Notes: An early ficlet of mine, inspired by some wonderful work from other authors on Live Journal. One-shot. Adult, somewhat erotic but not too graphic.
Finch likes to watch.
No.
Finch needs to watch. Reese is with a woman he knows as Tamara, as tall, lean, black-haired and blue-eyed as Reese himself. Ah, narcissism. They say there is no one more attractive to us than...ourselves. Finch had known her by a different name, but that was 15 years ago, and if she was trying to make some point by naming herself after an Old Testament woman who disguised herself as a prostitute and slept with her own father-in-law in order to get pregnant... Well, he didn't get it, but then, he had never really gotten her, had he?
She knows Finch, though, and she must know he's watching. Reese, too, must know, but they give no sign of it, seemingly completely into each other. There is a definite pleasing aesthetic symmetry to them, Finch must admit. He can imagine himself pleasuring her, and equally well imagine her long black hair spread over his stomach while she went down on him, then rolling her over and burying himself inside her...
Reese makes love in the same way he does everything else; quiet and powerful. He breathes a woman's name when he comes. Finch doesn't think it's 'Tamara', but if she notices, she doesn't say anything. He sprawls out on the bed when he's done, breathing hard, and she places herself beside him, her head on his shoulder and an arm thrown across his stomach. It's quiet for a while.
"Finch wants you," Reese rumbles darkly. "I can see it in his eyes."
Tamara raises her head to look at him, smiling, running her fingers over those washboard abs...
"And it just pleases you to no end that you have me and he doesn't, right?"
Ah, but Finch could have had her, many years ago. He remembered a deserted library, a tentative stolen kiss that had turned passionate, and he had been THISCLOSE to taking her right there among the dusty books and papers until SANITY had reasserted itself, reminded him that he was too old for her...
"Did you know him before?" Reese presses, his curiosity as insatiable as ever. Finch holds his breath. What would she say?
Tamara only leans over and kisses him. "As you know, John, our Mr. Finch is a very private person."
"He's using you to pacify me. The question is why? And why are you letting him use you to pacify me?"
She smiles. "Since you can still ask, obviously you're not pacified enough," she answers as she then distracts him in other, most delightful ways.
It won't last. Reese is too relentless to let it go for long. But Finch's secrets, and hers, are safe enough for now.
Well done, girl. No matter how many times she's drifted in and out of his life over the years, and, shame on him, he's always expected the worst from her, she's never let him down once. Finch reaches over and turns the monitor off.
Finch needs to watch.
Finch likes to watch.
But, for now, he's seen enough.
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