beat_death | [Dated 12/31 into 01/01]

Entry tags:

nsfw,
tosh

[Dated 12/31 into 01/01]

"Which way?" he asks, instead of giving her an actual answer. But it's the best idea she's had in ages, and that's really saying something.

It'd be a lie for him to say he's wanted this for some time now; while casually considering sex with your coworkers may as well be a national pastime, this isn't something he ever seriously considered until he was already dead. Until there wasn't really much chance of it at all.

Seems somewhat ridiculous now that he never considered someone that'd been right in front of him for years.

[Continued from here.]

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It is amazing, and as she shifts to help him with her bra he can't help but feel him against her. There's a lot to be said for foreplay and making things last, but there's also the fact that she's wanted him for a very long time and is sick of being patient.

"Owen," she hisses his name, dragging her fingers, her nails over the small of his back. She's tired of waiting and she's sure that he has to hear that.

Owen sucks in air through his teeth at the contact and it comes out as more of a sigh than he'd like as he undoes the clasp at her back. He's good at this bit, he's good at making it all last, but he'd confess that it's becoming a bit difficult with the two of them are almost completely skin on skin.

Completely, after he lifts up only slightly, and finally removes her bra.

'Not bad, Sato,' he wants to say, but his brain isn't working in complete sentences at the moment.

Tosh laughs, only it's a huffof breath, half a moan, the words all mixed up with her inability to really speak at the moment. She shifts beneath him, her fingers teacing along his sides, moving a hand between them. What she wants is to kiss him again, to have his mouth on hers to stop her from making these sounds she has no control over. Tosh ducks her head, catching his mouth as her fingers wrap about him.

Edited 2013-01-15 22:51 (UTC)

There's a low sort of groan that rumbles in his chest at that, deepening their kiss. But as good as it is, he can't help but think that this can't go on much longer. With her hand around him, he almost can't think straight.

"Hang on," he finally manages, his voice low, and slides off of her just for a moment, to grab a condom from his wallet.

Tosh doesn't think that at first, looking up in surprise before it hits her. Still, it's a great view, she thinks, propped up on one elbow. "I think I was hanging on, and you stopped that."

"Cheeky," Owen says, more amused that he suspected he'd be.

It only takes him a moment to find one and roll it on, before he settles back on top, kissing her once before he does anything else.

"Now what was that about hanging on?"

"I think I can manage," she whispers, hooking a leg behind him. Her skin is buzzing and she's sure the shivers aren't because she's cold but from anticipation.

Tosh moves a hand between them again, guiding him toward her. "Unless you don't think I can."

"...think you've got it," Owen replies, and even the slightly dulled feeling of her hand through latex is enough to give him pause, enough to make him realize that he doesn't want to wait any longer for this.

He lets her guide his hand a moment before he finds himself impatient and takes over, shifting his hips to slide into her.

That first press causes Tosh to gasp. It's a good thing, her body unused to the pressure but still sending an enjoyable shock through her. She finds the small of his back with her hands, the curve of his ass.

Why didn't they do this earlier, she thinks as she starts to move when he does.

He'd think much the same thing, except Owen knows why they haven't done this before now. Until he died, he hadn't been paying attention. He hadn't really known there was much to pay attention to. But as he moves against Tosh, he's beginning to think that he should regret all that.

Owen's not about to admit any of that aloud, though, especially not now. Especially not when he's wrapped up in the smell and feel of her, trying to remember how to think clearly.

Clear thinking isn't something she's doing much of either. Tosh is too caught up in the feel of his body, the pressure inside of her that builds with each stroke. Her fingers dig into his skin as she urges him on, biting at her lips to try and stop the small sounds that are escaping.

Owen thinks that he quite likes those sounds she's trying to hide though, and he tries for something a bit deeper and more deliberate, hoping that he can get her to lose herself in this. Of course, it has the chance of backfiring; he's barely holding on himself.

He calls out her name, low and quiet, barely more than just a breath.

Control is meant to be lost, sometimes, no matter how much she may try to cling to it. The way he moves, the sound of him saying her name so low, it teases her, her ability to hold back lost. She's sure at some point she says his name as she presses up to meet his thrust. She's sure she cries out, overwhelmed by sensation and giving into it.

"Come on," he urges, breath ragged as he moves against her, slow and forceful strokes. He's good at this, and if he can help it, she'll come before he does. Whatever this is, it's different than just chatting up some bint in a pub and bringing her home, and it's going to actually count for something.

He cups one of her breasts, running a thumb over the nipple, interested to see what kind of reaction it'll get.

Her reaction is extreme, shuddering as that last vestige of control is shredded. Tosh calls out his name as it rushes through her, her nails digging into his skin as she clings to him. Tosh doesn't want this to end, this feeling of him inside of her and here with her. But she almost forgets that in this moment, content and complete.

He sucks in a breath through his teeth as Tosh's nails dig into his back, but it's a good bit of pain. So good that he loses himself as well, after pushing into her a few final times. It leaves him breathing hard against her skin as he tries to pull himself together, and he presses a kiss to her bare shoulder.

She shudders, suddenly cold from the sweat slicking her skin. It's an amazing feeling, made better by it being Owen there with her.

"Owen," she nearly whispers it, shifting so she can pull him in for a kiss.

He kisses her back, briefly, before rolling over to lie next to her on the bed, exposing them both to the cooler air of the room. As much as he hates it, he moment's already beginning to fall away, and with that comes the memory that he's got something to tell her that he'd rather not say.

Tosh stares up at the ceiling, wondering if she should pinch herself to test if this is real. That would be taking it too far, she thinks, clearing her throat when the words don’t quite come the first time. “That’s one way to start off a new year.”

"Yeah," he says, still a bit breathless, and when he frowns, it's not because of what they've done. Maybe he's not sure where this leaves them, but he doesn't regret this a bit.

It's not as if she won't find out eventually; the moment he's not spending every waking hour on it, she'll know something's happened. He takes a breath and he shuts his eyes.

"Tosh, earlier... I think I worked out the Reset. I've finally worked it out."

That pulls her out of her reverie, propping herself up on one shoulder to look at him seriously. Her stomach is in bunches again, and this has nothing to do with sex at all. "You- You did? As in ready to test it worked out?"

"So far as I can tell," Owen replies, because he's been running tests for weeks, tweaking formulas and then tweaking them all over again. He's been through three sets of mice and the ones he has now are finally responding the way they should.

"It's done, it's ready to go."

He doesn't sound particularly happy about it.

"Then we should figure out when to try it." She's into work mode now the fact that she's naked beside the man she's wanted for years very nearly forgotten. "That's amazing Owen."

Of course she'd want to get right on it. That's Tosh. And under different circumstances, it'd be him as well.

"We're going to find someone else to test it on," he decides.

"Owen," she says, annoyance starting to build. They've had this conversation and they've decided it already. She's the only person that's ethical or logical. "We can't do that."

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