Notes: I own nothing. Thanks to Marie who not only kicked my ass into writing Helen/Will (it was always going to happen, I just didn't know when) and then beta'ing it for me and squee'ing appropriately. hahaha. 333. First Sanctuary fic and I'm not actually up to date on the series, so please be kind!
She's playing with her hair, drawing attention to the soft curls beside her cheek. It's distracting. He stammers out something about the autopsy, trying to keep his mind off the way her hair bounces off her neck. He doesn't really hear her reply-he thinks she says something about abnormalities. Her lips are impossibly pink-even after she darts out her tongue to lick them slightly.
Oh no oh no oh God she's your boss stop thinking like that.
He decides to extricate himself from the situation. Better to spend the evening alone with his right hand than let on that all he can think about is what those lips could do. He excuses himself and babbles something stupid-sounding about putting out the fire, and he can't control the cheesy thoughts that come to mind about his fire. She smirks at him and it makes him giddy and horny all at once. He doesn't know what it is about her smile, any of her smiles, but it's infectious and sexy and he has to get out of this room now. He leaves quickly, heading down the corridor to his room and trying to ignore the tightness in his pants until he gets there. He recites psychological theory in his head in an attempt to distract himself in case he should run into anyone in the hall before he gets to his room. He's grateful when it turns out to not be necessary, since it wasn't helping anyway. He opens the door to his room and closes it quickly, disposing of his button-up shirt and then pulling at the hem of his t-shirt and pulling it off. He goes into his bathroom to dump them in the hamper and get rid of his pants while he's there. She'd hate it if he left dirty clothes lying around. She's never come into his room, of course, that wouldn't be appropriate, but he still cares what she would think.
You know, just in case.
He turns around and steps out of his bathroom and stops dead in his tracks.
She's sitting on his bed.
On his bed.
She hadn't made a sound. He had no idea when she got there, how long she'd been watching him. He hadn't been in the bathroom five minutes; she must have followed him almost immediately out of her office.
"Hi."
"Hello, Will," her voice is softer than usual and he starts reciting psychological theory again. It's still not helping but he has to try.
"I decided I didn't want to be alone yet. Do you mind?" She's fiddling with her hair again. He wonders if she has any idea what that does to him. He guesses not.
"Uh. I. No. I mean, I don't mind." He's babbling but he can't help it. He's forgotten how to speak English, he's fairly sure.
She looks really good in black.
"This is your room, Will. Don't feel like you have to just...stand there. Come and sit down." she gestures to the space beside her on the bed as her eyes flicker up and down his body.
He doesn't have to be a profiler to read the look in her eyes when her gaze gets back to his face. He moves to the bed and sits beside her, not sure he's still in control of his body. She's twisted her torso to look at him and she's got that little half-smirk on her face again.
He really doesn't know what it is about her smile.
But she's still got that look in her eyes and whatever part of his brain still possesses higher functioning is screaming at him that it's just the nubbins, something about them that's making her act this way. Promoting connubial bliss, she'd said.
That part of his brain is very small.
The much larger part of his brain drowns it out with the roaring realisation that he could kiss her right now, just like he'd been wanting to.
And she'd be okay with it.
And that is all he can think so he leans forward, one hand finding the back of her head and he kisses her. It's soft at first, gentle, but then she puts her hands on his shoulders and pushes him backwards and crushes her lips against his as her hands stroke along his chest. A well-manicured nail skims over his nipple and he gasps, moving his hands to fumble with the buttons on her fitted black shirt. He's clumsy and distracted but he manages to get it open and she sits up long enough to shrug it off her shoulders. Her bra is black lace and the contrast against her pale skin drives him crazy-in the best way possible of course-so he puts his hands on her now-bare shoulders and turns them so that he has her pinned to the bed beneath him. He bends down and kisses her gently again before bringing his lips down her neck, nipping lightly at her pulse point before continuing down to kiss her along her collarbone. She moans softly and he takes the encouragement, moving his lips lower to skim the top of her breast, along the thin lace edging. He feels her hands moving between them and he realises she's trying to undo her pants. He lifts his hips to allow her some room and within seconds she's gotten rid of them.
Her panties match her bra. He shouldn't be surprised, but at this point in time his brain is so clouded he's not even sure of his own name. He drops his kisses lower still, capturing a hard nipple in his mouth through the thin material of her bra.
"Will," she breathes.
Oh right, that's what it is.
Her fingers are playing at the waistband of his boxer briefs, splaying along his hipbones and teasing the sensitive skin just below them. He gasps.
"Magnus." He can't stop the desperation in his voice. He moves up to kiss her neck and then her lips again before sitting up and getting rid of his underwear. She does the same, wiggling her hips slightly to help the tiny black lace garment slip off her hips. He leans over her again and captures her lips with his own. He's so hard that it hurts but he has a brief moment of clarity.
"Magnus, uh, I don't have-" she cuts him off with a hand to the back of the head and a hard kiss.
"You don't need to worry about that, Will," she says. She doesn't explain but he trusts her, has to trust her, and he sinks into her, slowly, revelling in the feeling of her surrounding him.
They move slowly, exploring each other carefully. The tension in his abdomen is growing stronger and he doesn't know how much longer he can hold back.
"Magnus..." it's barely a whisper. Her hands move to his cheeks and she draws his face down towards hers, looking him directly in the eyes.
Her eyes, God her eyes. They're incredible at the most ordinary of times but now they're slightly cloudy with desire and the look she gives him alone is almost enough to send him spiralling over the edge.
"Helen," he can't stop himself from using her first name, and he guesses she likes that because she arches against him, crying out. His lips drop to her ear and he continues to murmur her name until she sinks back into the bed, gasping lightly as she comes down from her high. Her eyes open slowly and she gives him that look again before capturing his lips in another slow kiss, sucking his lower lip into her mouth lightly and scraping her teeth gently over it, and he's lost. He's blinded by little flashes of white and his hips still as he comes inside of her. He collapses slightly to the side to avoid crushing her once he has some control of his body again, slipping out of her as he turns on his side and gathers her in his arms, pulling her close. He knows they should clean themselves up but he doesn't care and he has no intention of releasing her just now. He's dropping soft kisses along her neck and shoulder and she's making the most adorable noises he's ever heard.
He doesn't know what will happen in the morning, if the effect of the nubbins will still be on them or if she'll be firing him or something in between, but right now he's about as close to heaven as he can imagine ever getting.
And that's enough for now.