The Problem in Flirting
Callen's got a possessive streak.
If she'd known, Kensi likes to believe she would have toned it down. Yeah, they're not in the 'r-word' and they can't be and she's holding back so much but none of that matters. It's about respect. It has nothing to do with the fact that she doesn't like the idea of hurting him. Like, really doesn't like the idea.
They're friends. Colleagues, friends, and now both with some rather superb benefits. They don't let it trail onto the job. They keep their distance, and they don't fight because, hey, they're not doing the whole 'r-word' thing. And to the extent of her knowledge, Kensi can't remember a time when Callen's ever really been possessive when he's Callen. If the profile called for it, sure, but it's not like she's ever seen him growl his superiority at a rival male.
But that's what she's pretty sure he was doing almost all day.
Full days in the bullpen are rare, and rarer still when she accounts for the fact that it was the four of them. One of them is always off on some case, out and about, doing something. But not today. Today they were all there and Deeks was being Deeks. Because they're not in an 'r-word' and she doesn't want anyone to think they are, she responded. Of course she did. With Deeks, it's like s gave of survival.
Every time there was a twist in her gut, but if she lets them believe that she's not flirting with Deeks anymore then someone's going to start asking questions and when it comes down to it, she's not sure she can lie about this. If she keeps it vague, they'll keep poking, and if Deeks keeps poking, she knows, eventually, she'll spill it all because she's so damn exasperated. So she flirts. It's option B.
When she opens the door at Callen's brisk knock, she's pretty sure it's about to become Option Never Again.
His eyes are blazing and it doesn't take her training to see the way his body's humming. Hers responds, tightens, heats and she can feel a dampness settling between her legs. There is something about a Callen so absorbed in her that he's entirely out of control.
Well, absorbed in her is probably generous because the way he grasps the back of her neck isn't about a loss of control. It's plain and simple heated possession.
Her body arches without her permission as his mouth fuses to hers. Desperation rises in her, making her blood burn just beneath the heated surface of her skin. She goes loose, pliant so it takes no effort for him to shove her back further into the apartment. Not that she's really resisting all that much at the moment.
At the end of the day, she trusts him. Despite his rough handling of her so far, she knows he won't actually hurt her. Is it bad that she's kind of attracted to his little streak of quasi-violence?
He's on her seconds after the door slams and the thought finishes manifesting. He breaks more than a few seams when he yanks her t-shirt over her head. His hand slides into her hair, pulling her ponytail loose and her head back. His other is on her hip, tight enough to likely leave a bruise. Hers are gripping the long-sleeved tee he's wearing, just for purchase, her fingers clenching and releasing. She's probably scratching, she vaguely thinks, but since there's no reaction but a bite at her neck that actually makes her gasp and moan, she figures it's not that big of a deal.
She thinks about ripping his shirt – she's pretty sure she could – but her clenching fingers have already inched it up. When she goes for the shirt, he releases her completely to grab her wrists. The thrill that races through her shouldn't be so delicious, but Kensi barely has time to consider the pros and cons of a latent kinky streak before he's managed to cuff her hands behind her back with one of his own. His teeth sink into her collarbone and she actually whimpers.
He reacts instinctively, bringing her hips roughly against his by pressing against the bottom of her spine with her manacled wrists. His other hand rips at her bra and she's not at all shocked when it tears at the clasp. He' growls because it won't just go – the straps are still on her shoulders, after all – and she wants to laugh, but he releases her. He fights with the fabric while she stands there dumbly until it's lying on the floor with her shirt. It's so heatedly rough that she can barely breathe, let alone act. So she offers no resistance when he grabs her wrists again and herds her to the bedroom.
It's only there that she puts up the necessary resistance to get his shirt off and his pants undone. She wrestles with him, sweaty skin to sweaty skin, to ensure that she lands on her back when she hits the mattress. She's drawn a line and though his eyes blaze, he respects it. It's absolute proof of what she already knows. He'll never push her beyond where she's willing to go.
"I had to watch you. All day."
It's an odd phrase considering everything around their non-r-word that they haven't talked about.
Like the fact that it's kind of really turning into the r-word.
But really, she's got other things on her mind. Like the press of him against her. Now he's got her arms above her head, holding them there. When he runs out of skin he can get his mouth on, he meets her gaze, shakes them slightly.
Don't move.
She gets the message and heaves out a breath of air that reeks of just how aroused she is.
"You flirt with him."
She's a little shocked at the accusation in his voice and just arches an eyebrow. "I've always flirted with Deeks." Yeah, she's that quick of a study.
She gets a nip on the delicate skin of her breast for that. It makes the air back up in her lungs and her eyes slide closed. His possessive streak shouldn't turn her on like this.
"Not anymore."
She breaks the rules then, reaching up to capture his ears. "Callen. G."
He tries to break free but she squeezes, gently, yet hard enough to hold his attention. His eyes blaze and they both know he could break it if he wanted, go back to what they were doing. Instead, he locks his eyes on hers, his chest pressing against her stomach with every heaving breath. She forces herself to breathe.
"That sounds like commitment."
The words are barely louder than a breath, but he totally hears them. His eyes widen and his face goes blank. He rolls away and Kensi closes her eyes against the sting. She shouldn't have brought it up. She'd known it was a bad idea because now she's hot and bothered and he's warring between guarded and possessive and what the freaking hell? Where had that even come from?
Which, really, is a stupid question. She knows exactly where it comes from. It comes from the part that totally saw this coming, the part that told her it was time to put a stop to this nonsense before it goes too far. Well, surprise, she thinks to herself, because this kind of possession is the kind that says 'mine'. This isn't just 'sex for the sake of it', or 'after case reaffirmation' sex, this is 'you were flirting with another guy and I was definitely jealous' sex. Which would mean that he has some sort of claim over her.
It's a conversation topic they've been carefully avoiding.
But now it's bare in front of them and it takes a surprising amount of her training to keep her face neutral. Arousal still burns her blood but now there's fear mixed in there because regardless of whether or not this is an r-word, it's not something she wants to screw up over something stupid. She tugs on his head, bringing him up her body with a slide that almost derails her thoughts. She wants an answer, and yet, simultaneously doesn't. Either way, he settles rather comfortably in the cradle of her body.
"I shouldn't want you like this."
She blinks. She knows the feeling. The thought never makes it to her mouth.
"I shouldn't care about how much you flirt with your partner." But there's acid in his tone and he spits out 'partner' in such a way that she tugs rather sharply on his ear for the effort. Whether this thing with Callen is about to turn into something shockingly serious or end completely, she won't tolerate him talking about her partner like that. Deeks has her back and that, at the end of the day, is what matters.
"I shouldn't watch you, worry about you."
She's surprised when his hands come up to smooth her hair back. It's an oddly tender gesture for the emotions rioting through his eyes. When Callen hits passionate, whether it's anger or arousal or something else, he can't hide his eyes.
"But I do."
Her stomach riots and she finds herself swallowing. It takes a few minutes and a few fish-like mouth movements before she manages to choke out. "I do too."
His forehead drops to her shoulder and her arms slide around his shoulders to adjust to the new position. He breathes heavily against her skin.
"We can't do commitment," he says after a moment.
Kensi's eyes slide closed. "I know. But we're doing it anyway, aren't we."
He doesn't answer, and silence settles over them.
"I don't think I can walk away," she whispers after a few moments.
He presses his lips to her ear, trails them down her jaw line. He says into her neck, "I don't either."
It's the closest either of them are going to get to any sort of confession so, he distracts her by tonguing the delicate skin at her pulse and she moans as pleasure riots anew. This is gentler though, and she drags the pads of her fingers over his back rather than her nails. His callouses send her nerves rioting as they slide down her sides, brushing the edges of her breasts and stopping to tease the delicate underside. She relaxes into the touch, breathes him in as his mouth comes back to hers.
This kiss is gentle, tender, There's passion under the surface, but it no longer holds the strong, possessive quality. The roughness makes her hot, but this… This leaves such an exquisite burn just under her skin that screams of desperation. The few times they've managed this slow, one of them eventually breaks, pushed beyond the limit into a pleading mass. Okay, it's usually her, but Callen can be just so good with his hands and his mouth… and when that kind of intensity is focused on her, it's hard not to be turned on.
He breathes her name into her breast and her body arches of it's own volition. The pleasure may be quieter but it's still there and he's got her far enough that she reacts without thought. When he finally takes the peak of her breast into his mouth, Kensi reacts like a livewire. It shocks him, heats him, and that possession is back with surprising vengeance.
And she knows because he darts down to leave a bite at her hip.
He soothes it with his tongue when she gasps, but they both know there's going to be a bruise. It's a bruise of honour, in a real sense and since he's moving away before she can find the brain power, let alone the breath, to scold him, she's willing to let it go. And hopes that when she sees it in the morning, she won't jump him back. Then thought scatters completely because he applies lips, teeth, tongue and fingers to the task of setting her aflame.
He accomplishes it too, and she's just thinking about relaxing when he redoubles his effort and has her back on the edge within seconds. She's choking on air, unable to get a grasp on anything and barely able to remember that there is more to the world than just this. When she's teetering, he stops and she curses at him, but he stops because he's reaching for a condom.
He doesn't so much slide in – though with how wet she is it wouldn't be difficult – as plunges and hits her in all the right spots on the way to have her catapulting over the edge with a choked cry. His movements aren't slow and they border on the edge of pain because she's so sensitive. He distracts her with a kiss, the taste of her on his tongue, and he manages to support himself with one arm so he can trail gentle fingers over her breast. It's a startling counterpoint to the strength of his thrusts, but it does what he wants it to and stokes the ember. The heat curls in her stomach again, and she arches into the feeling. He offers her a wicked smile, as if this is something he's seen coming and leans down to her ear.
"You're mine, Kensi."
The air and his words have breath backing up in her lungs. She struggles to breath as her nails dig into his shoulders. If he's essentially going to promise her it'll always be like this she's totally okay with the claim. In fact, she likes it, a lot and yeah, the emotion's dangerous but she's so past the point of caring. Neither of them can walk away, so they're in it together and with his hips pistoning against hers and the feeling of his hand against her breast, she surrenders to the sparks, the tremours and eventually, the orgasm as her body tenses and she cries out.
She must black out for a moment because when she manages to take stock of her situation Callen's beside her. He looks worn out, resting on his back with his eyes closed. But he's got a hand resting palm up on her stomach, just above her bellybutton, and though she's pretty sure it's not supposed to feel so good, it definitely does. It's a connection that in the aftermath of their kind-of-conversation, she wouldn't have anticipated.
"Yours, huh?" It's a low murmur and she's taking in the pleased exhaustion on his face. When he opens those blues though, they're stormy as if he doesn't want to confront this.
As if this is a huge leap.
She acknowledges the fact that he's so open with an audibly deep breath. Oh God. Because if he's making that leap she doesn't want him doing it without her. Not when she's just as scared. She gathers up air as she turns, grasping his wrist as she goes and tucking it just below the pillows between them. Then she slowly weaves her fingers through his.
"Okay."
I should not be doing this. I have other things I haven't updated and marking to do not to mention a thesis to work on... I should not be writing this.
But I did. And Callen took on a life of his own. Until Kensi stepped in and then it all went completely different than what I'd originally anticipated. This was actually supposed to run along the same lines as "Posession" in "Needs" if any of you read that fic and it didn't. At all. It turned around on me completely.
Typos and errors are mine. I tried to read it over, but with some of the stuff I've been marking, my brain is literally broken.
Thanks for reading!
