Set in early season 2. I kept implying people have walked in on Michael and Nikita, I had to write it. Also, Michael thought Nikita was pregnant in early season 2 so they probably weren't as careful as they should've been. Also also, I read a lot of Wonder Woman comics recently and there's a lot of Diana and Steve interactions that remind me of Mikita.
"This is seriously ruining my dinner plans," Nikita grumbled, flipping a rival agent onto the ground and kicking them unconscious. The op they had had in mind didn't involve an all out brawl with their targets. But when did anything go as they planned. Nikita and Michael were handling themselves well, but it was taking up more time than she would've liked. She wanted to go home and have some kind of date night with her boyfriend. Apparently that was too much to ask for in the superspy life.
"You made plans?" Michael wondered with that half-smile of his. He disarmed another agent, and used their own weapon to pistol whip them. His and Nikita's 'dates' were typically spur of the moment whenever they had rare freetime. They couldn't necessarily have the normal night outs other couples had, given the fact that they were high value targets. Yet the two still managed to make their time together as romantic as possible, even if they were simply walking along the street hand in hand.
"Yeah, you know. Homemade meal with some wine, followed by flirting, light touching, and sexual tension," Nikita winked. She and Michael relied on and used each other's skills to take care of the remainder of the enemy agents. They were always a fearsome sight to behold; their fighting ability was unparalleled. However, when the two fought as a team, they were extraordinary. No one could touch them. That fact became even more true once they cemented their powerful relationship. Michael and Nikita could read one another's minds in an instant, anticipate the other's moves before they made them, and were fiercely protective. No one could beat them.
"I love those plans," After the last of the agents was down for the count, Michael pulled Nikita in closer to himself. They had a moment before they had to run out of there with the intel they had gathered. It was long enough for them to catch their breath and assure that they were alright. Their bodies close together, hot and panting, caused some ideas to float through the couple's minds. They were definitely on the same page about a date night once they returned to the safehouse. They had to celebrate their win somehow.
"Bet you do," Smacking Michael playfully on the ass, Nikita slipped from his hold. He followed after her, not letting her get far from him. They didn't stick to their plans- well, the meal and wine part anyway. The second they got back to the safehouse, their lips were feverishly fused together. As they were traveling back from their mission, Birkhoff informed them that he was going to be gone. He had some errands to run, so the two shouldn't expect to see him for a while. The couple had the whole house to themselves. There was no way they would take that for granted.
Bags were dropped by the front door, as well as jackets. Nikita's hair tie was even thrown to the floor, while Michael slipped his fingers through her dark hair. They were eagerly ripping at clothing in a race to see who could get the other undressed first. The progress was awkward and sloppy, their lips not wanting to separate. They were also attempting to walk towards their bedroom, or any place where they could stop and appropriately devour one another. She ended up pulling him into the kitchen as she yanked at his belt. And he tossed her onto the counter to take off her boots.
It was a struggle to rip them off of her feet, one that she giggled at him for. But he didn't care. If he got her boots off, then next could be her pants; that was his main goal. Nikita stilled Michael the second her shoes were gone, however. She pulled him in by his belt loops, wrapping her legs around his hips. Both had lost their shirts already, so their hands were able to explore bare skin. Fingers traced defined muscles and dipped low into waistbands. Michael's lips finally left hers to nip at her jaw and her neck. Nikita's hips rolled, a breathy moan escaping her, "We should probably start making dinner. We're already in the kitchen."
Chuckling, Michael reached into the cabinet above Nikita. His lips never left her neck, and she began to unbutton his jeans. If they ended up making a simple meal naked, then so be it. Neither of them were picky eaters. But their dinner was quickly forgotten when she shoved his pants off of his hips. He abandoned his absentminded search for food in the cabinet, and slipped her sports bra over her head. Their lips passionately locked once more, returning to their feverish pace. She tugged him closer somehow, her hips moving to meet him. She could feel him hot and hard through his underwear, and she moaned.
Michael was more focused on her breasts, however. He massaged and teased, encouraged by her moans of pleasure. Nikita shifted to wiggle out of her jeans. She used her legs wrapped around him as leverage, causing their hips to snap together forcefully. All thoughts of taking their time went out the window. They were going to have their way with one another immediately.
The first step was taking off the rest of their clothes. That was easy; greedy hands tore at pants, underwear, socks and shoes. The next step made them leave the kitchen. Michael effortlessly lifted Nikita in his arms, and stumbled around their clothes littering the floor. She wasn't helping as her hips moved of their own accord. She was ready for him, wet and hot. He knew, and he twitched. The couple ended up crashing into the wall, but that didn't stop them. Hands continued to tease and caress, and mouths nipped and kissed. Heated moans filled the air around them, so did the whisper of each other's name.
Having enough, Michael attempted to continue the trek to the bedroom. Nikita had other ideas. Her hips thrusted against his, the movement driving them both insane. He lost his balance for a second, and they fell onto the couch. Really, she fell on the couch and he fell to his knees. But the couple didn't care about technicalities. As long as they were as close as possible and kissing thoroughly, then what was the point.
Nikita hurriedly yanked at Michael to join her on the cushions. He did so willingly. It was a bit awkward finding a great position on the couch. But they settled with her in his lap, limbs wrapped tightly around one another. The two were so caught up in each other and their intense need to feel that everything else disappeared from their minds; it was all about them. She slid down atop him, and they gasped and moaned. They moved nearly as one, hips connecting sharply. The rhythm was quick and a bit rushed. Their frenzied kisses were evident of that.
Honestly, the mission was probably to blame for the couple's intenseness. Something about kicking ass together excited them. Maybe it was the fact that they were so insync- that despite everything they knew one another better than anyone else. Or maybe the fact that they had made it out of the op unscathed drove them to each other's arms; they had to prove how alive they actually were.
With one hand paying special attention to her breasts, Michael placed the other between them. Talented fingers began to string her up higher. Nikita cursed, and bit his lip. Pressing her hands into his shoulders, she increased their tortuous rhythm. He matched her thrust for thrust. Their kisses grew sloppy and were a mere press of their lips together while they panted and moaned. Encouraging 'right theres' and enthusiastic 'yeses' were muttered between the couple. They slipped out after their moans and matched the pulse of their movements.
A tender touch to Nikita's cheek had her brown eyes snapping open. Michael's green eyes were staring at her with every ounce of love and adoration his heart held for her. She hoped her own love reflected back, as she drew him in for a loving and emotional kiss. The contrast of the sweet and soft kiss and rough and hard thrusts pushed them both over the edge. Moans were loud and curses flew. They rode their ecstasy together, holding to each other tightly.
"Guess your dinner plans did get ruined," When he was finally able to catch his breath and calm his racing heart, Michael flashed a crooked grin. Nikita giggled, placing a chaste kiss to his cheek. Neither had moved from their position. She was still in his lap, and their arms and legs were still tangled. They didn't mind. They were warm and sated and in no need to go anywhere. They were content to remain in the embrace.
"Who says we can't fuel up before round two?" Rolling her hips, Nikita smirked. Michael kissed the expression off of her lips, repositioning them against the cushions. While they kissed, the couple contemplated just skipping dinner completely. They could eat when they were starving, and when they couldn't move anymore. Urgent hands and mouths were far more important.
Birkhoff almost fell when he entered his house (then a safehouse because of those two jackasses and their crusade they dragged him into). Mission bags were abandoned in front of the door, and t-shirts and a belt were haphazardly thrown around. Nikita and Michael had no respect for their shared space. He heard noises from the living room, and went to berate the couple. If they wanted him to help them, they better start realizing it wasn't just the two of them anymore- they were a team. Unfortunately, the sight on the couch was not what Birkhoff was expecting. He rapidly turned away, screeching, "Holy shit!"
At hearing the nerd's voice, Nikita fell off of Michael. To say she was shocked that he was there would've been an understatement. But she didn't have time to process her surprise. She pulled the blanket off the back of the couch, and tried her best to cover herself with it. Her boyfriend took a second longer to register what was happening. Once he did, he covered himself with a pillow and attempted to melt into the sofa. Normally not one for embarrassment, her cheeks burned bright red, "Birkhoff! You were supposed to be gone."
"I… uh… disinfectant… bleach my eyes…" Instead of explaining that the errands didn't take as long as he had thought, Birkhoff simply left the room. Teasing them about their relationship was one thing. Seeing it- seeing it made him want to die of awkwardness. Michael and Nikita were his best friends, he didn't need to witness them doing that. No. No way. That was too much.
Agreeing with the nerd, Michael buried his head in his hands. They should've been more careful. The safehouse was going to be embarrassing and awkward to walk around for a long while. There was no coming back from what happened. Especially since it took him so long to notice anything was amiss, "I think we need to run away."
"That diner down the road?" Nikita suggested. They'd be gone long enough for them all to recover, and for the couple to eat like they kept saying they would. Michael agreed. After ensuring Birkhoff wasn't going to walk in on them again, they dashed to their bedroom to get dressed; they also quickly picked up the clothes they had left in the kitchen and entryway. The two would clean the couch and living room when they returned. For the moment however, they just had to get out of there. Living as a team sure was going to be an adventure.