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kathierif_ficTitle: How to pick a lock.
Fandom: Leverage.
Pairing: Hardison/Parker
Rating: FRAO
Disclaimer: Not mine. Oh, I wish.
Summary: Parker wants to teach Hardison something.
Prompt: teasing on kink_bingo. 1356 words.
"Keep them open."
Hardison blinks hard. Sweat is running across his forehead and into his eyes, blurring his vision, or maybe that's the feeling of Parker in his lap, rubbing against him and driving him insane with arousal and lust. Keeping his eyes open is proving to be quite the challenge, and he isn't sure how long he can obey.
Parker shifts again, and the pressure around Hardison's dick is just perfect. It's better than heaven and bliss and orange soda rolled in one, hot and wet and tight, and Parker is poking him between the ribs.
"Ow," he grunts half-heartedly, but he forces his eyes open again. He doesn't even remember closing them.
"Pay attention!" Parker orders. "Are you paying attention?"
"I am paying attention," Hardison moans. His entire body feels like he's been electrocuted, hyperaware of every touch, every drop of sweat sliding down his bare back before hitting the pillows in his back. The sheet stick to his sweat-slick thighs and calves, and Parker's legs are pressed along the outside of his own thighs, to keep him in place.
Parker frowns. Her hair is in disarray, two hectic spots of red have appeared on her cheeks as soon as Hardison came up with this idea - an idea that he quickly starts to hate now.
But Parker? She loves it. She's loved it since the second the first, hesitant syllables have fallen off of Hardison's lips and spilled over her pale skin, so close to him and yet unreachable.
"Then what did I just say?" she asks suspiciously, and Hardison groans, lets his head fall back against the headboard of their bed - his bed - and wishes, for the millionth time that night, that he'd never agreed to let Parker cuff his hands over his head just so she could teach him how to pick the lock.
They could be having sex right now, he thinks as he starts to recite what she's just told him, about different kinds of locks and how to get through them.
Real sex, not just her sitting in his lap and squirming occasionally, to spur him on and to urge him to pay attention to her explanations.
He understands, on one level, how important this is. She's letting him be part of her life, she's trying to teach him one of her skills, it's all very exciting for him and his heart will probably flutter weirdly and clench when he thinks back on this later, but right now, he's just frustrated.
Sexually frustrated.
He wants to grip her slender hips with his hands and lift her up, to let her sink back down onto his flesh and make her forget all about lock-picking and stealing and really anything that isn't him, make her forget about teasing him like this.
He wants to roll them over and protect her smaller frame with his wide shoulders while making love to her.
And yeah, he wants her to wrap her legs around his hips and just take what she wants from him.
He wants her to be happy.
However, this is Parker. She isn't like anyone else Hardison had ever known, and when he looks at her right now, her fingers caressing the hairpin and the padlock she is using to demonstrate him what to do, her legs holding him in place and her breasts right in front of him, the smile on her face wide and ecstatic, he knows that she is happy now, in this particular moment.
Hardison loves Parker. There isn't the shadow of a doubt in him that he does, that he would do anything to make her smile like this. It doesn't matter that his hands and arms are starting to fall asleep, that his shoulders ache dully from being twisted this way, that his dick is probably going to fall off soon from overstimulation - what counts is that Parker is happy.
"See? It's really easy," she now says and twists the hairpin. The padlock clicks open, and she bounces a little in her excitement.
It sends another wave of sweet arousal through Hardison. It's enough to make his toes curl and his eyes starting to slip shut again, but he forces them open and focuses on something.
Parker's left breast, pale and the perfect size to be cupped by his hand, as soon as he is out of these damn cuffs.
"Stop teasing me," he manages to grit out. His voice is deep and growly, kinda like Eliot's, he notices with the really small part of his brain that isn't dying to move or busy cataloging every detail of her body. This tiny part of his brain is really impressed - he didn't know his voice could do that, be so much like Eliot's, but then, no matter how jealous he is of Eliot's growl, if eternal sexual frustration is the price, he isn't willing to pay for it.
Instead of answering, Parker wriggles again, and the resulting spike of arousal goes straight from his dick to his brain.
"I'm not teasing you," she says and thrusts the hairpin into his fumbling, numb fingers. "Now you try it."
The way Hardison sees it, if he can get out of the damn cuffs while most of his blood is pooled in his dick instead of his brain, with Parker in his lap and squeezing him tightly, her breasts right in front of him - if he can manage that, he can probably get out of everything.
If he can get out of the cuffs in this situation, he can out-houdini even Houdini himself.
The only problem is that picking a lock is more complicated than it looks like when Parker is doing it. The hairpin is slipping in his fingers, and it is just not working the way Parker did it.
Parker is watching him like a hawk. She's twitching and shifting, and every move of her body sends another jolt of distraction through Hardison's synapses and is disrupting his concentration.
If this isn't teasing, he doesn't know what is.
"You're doing that wrong," she says impatiently after he fumbles with the lock for five minutes and grabs the pin. "Let me show you again."
He tries to pay more attention now, but it isn't easy. By the time she opened the lock and closed it again five times, he is whimpering. Every muscle in his body yearns for release. His heart is beating wildly in his chest, his breathing is ragged, and following Parker's instructions becomes harder and harder by the second.
"Now you," she orders.
This time, he drops the pin almost as soon as she thrusts it into his hand. It's too much, he can't do this anymore, he thinks hysterically, and if this wasn't Parker, he would never have managed to hold on for so long. He would have long broken down and started to cry like a baby.
"Here," Parker says. Her voice is gentler now, her face closer to him than she was before. Her fingers are on his hands, guiding him and the pin to the lock of those damn cuffs. All he has to do is to hold the pin and let her guide him.
The cuffs unlock with a small clicking sound, and Hardison curls his shoulders in, wraps his arms tight around Parker's bare shoulders and holds her close while the blood prickles its way back into his fingertips.
She wriggles slightly, but then, her hands are on his shoulders, and she lifts herself up and slides down again, even without his hands on her hips. She knows exactly what she wants and she goes for it, and Hardison is nothing but a passenger holding on for the ride.
The orgasm, when it finally comes, is blindingly intense and leaves him weak-limbed like a new-born kitten, but he doesn't care.
Not when he can lie curled around Parker and wait for his heartbeat and breathing to return to a normal rate.
Cool steel is wrapped back around his wrist. Before he can protest, the cuff clicks shut, trapping him again.
Parker grins. "Again?"
Fandom: Leverage.
Pairing: Hardison/Parker
Rating: FRAO
Disclaimer: Not mine. Oh, I wish.
Summary: Parker wants to teach Hardison something.
Prompt: teasing on kink_bingo. 1356 words.
"Keep them open."
Hardison blinks hard. Sweat is running across his forehead and into his eyes, blurring his vision, or maybe that's the feeling of Parker in his lap, rubbing against him and driving him insane with arousal and lust. Keeping his eyes open is proving to be quite the challenge, and he isn't sure how long he can obey.
Parker shifts again, and the pressure around Hardison's dick is just perfect. It's better than heaven and bliss and orange soda rolled in one, hot and wet and tight, and Parker is poking him between the ribs.
"Ow," he grunts half-heartedly, but he forces his eyes open again. He doesn't even remember closing them.
"Pay attention!" Parker orders. "Are you paying attention?"
"I am paying attention," Hardison moans. His entire body feels like he's been electrocuted, hyperaware of every touch, every drop of sweat sliding down his bare back before hitting the pillows in his back. The sheet stick to his sweat-slick thighs and calves, and Parker's legs are pressed along the outside of his own thighs, to keep him in place.
Parker frowns. Her hair is in disarray, two hectic spots of red have appeared on her cheeks as soon as Hardison came up with this idea - an idea that he quickly starts to hate now.
But Parker? She loves it. She's loved it since the second the first, hesitant syllables have fallen off of Hardison's lips and spilled over her pale skin, so close to him and yet unreachable.
"Then what did I just say?" she asks suspiciously, and Hardison groans, lets his head fall back against the headboard of their bed - his bed - and wishes, for the millionth time that night, that he'd never agreed to let Parker cuff his hands over his head just so she could teach him how to pick the lock.
They could be having sex right now, he thinks as he starts to recite what she's just told him, about different kinds of locks and how to get through them.
Real sex, not just her sitting in his lap and squirming occasionally, to spur him on and to urge him to pay attention to her explanations.
He understands, on one level, how important this is. She's letting him be part of her life, she's trying to teach him one of her skills, it's all very exciting for him and his heart will probably flutter weirdly and clench when he thinks back on this later, but right now, he's just frustrated.
Sexually frustrated.
He wants to grip her slender hips with his hands and lift her up, to let her sink back down onto his flesh and make her forget all about lock-picking and stealing and really anything that isn't him, make her forget about teasing him like this.
He wants to roll them over and protect her smaller frame with his wide shoulders while making love to her.
And yeah, he wants her to wrap her legs around his hips and just take what she wants from him.
He wants her to be happy.
However, this is Parker. She isn't like anyone else Hardison had ever known, and when he looks at her right now, her fingers caressing the hairpin and the padlock she is using to demonstrate him what to do, her legs holding him in place and her breasts right in front of him, the smile on her face wide and ecstatic, he knows that she is happy now, in this particular moment.
Hardison loves Parker. There isn't the shadow of a doubt in him that he does, that he would do anything to make her smile like this. It doesn't matter that his hands and arms are starting to fall asleep, that his shoulders ache dully from being twisted this way, that his dick is probably going to fall off soon from overstimulation - what counts is that Parker is happy.
"See? It's really easy," she now says and twists the hairpin. The padlock clicks open, and she bounces a little in her excitement.
It sends another wave of sweet arousal through Hardison. It's enough to make his toes curl and his eyes starting to slip shut again, but he forces them open and focuses on something.
Parker's left breast, pale and the perfect size to be cupped by his hand, as soon as he is out of these damn cuffs.
"Stop teasing me," he manages to grit out. His voice is deep and growly, kinda like Eliot's, he notices with the really small part of his brain that isn't dying to move or busy cataloging every detail of her body. This tiny part of his brain is really impressed - he didn't know his voice could do that, be so much like Eliot's, but then, no matter how jealous he is of Eliot's growl, if eternal sexual frustration is the price, he isn't willing to pay for it.
Instead of answering, Parker wriggles again, and the resulting spike of arousal goes straight from his dick to his brain.
"I'm not teasing you," she says and thrusts the hairpin into his fumbling, numb fingers. "Now you try it."
The way Hardison sees it, if he can get out of the damn cuffs while most of his blood is pooled in his dick instead of his brain, with Parker in his lap and squeezing him tightly, her breasts right in front of him - if he can manage that, he can probably get out of everything.
If he can get out of the cuffs in this situation, he can out-houdini even Houdini himself.
The only problem is that picking a lock is more complicated than it looks like when Parker is doing it. The hairpin is slipping in his fingers, and it is just not working the way Parker did it.
Parker is watching him like a hawk. She's twitching and shifting, and every move of her body sends another jolt of distraction through Hardison's synapses and is disrupting his concentration.
If this isn't teasing, he doesn't know what is.
"You're doing that wrong," she says impatiently after he fumbles with the lock for five minutes and grabs the pin. "Let me show you again."
He tries to pay more attention now, but it isn't easy. By the time she opened the lock and closed it again five times, he is whimpering. Every muscle in his body yearns for release. His heart is beating wildly in his chest, his breathing is ragged, and following Parker's instructions becomes harder and harder by the second.
"Now you," she orders.
This time, he drops the pin almost as soon as she thrusts it into his hand. It's too much, he can't do this anymore, he thinks hysterically, and if this wasn't Parker, he would never have managed to hold on for so long. He would have long broken down and started to cry like a baby.
"Here," Parker says. Her voice is gentler now, her face closer to him than she was before. Her fingers are on his hands, guiding him and the pin to the lock of those damn cuffs. All he has to do is to hold the pin and let her guide him.
The cuffs unlock with a small clicking sound, and Hardison curls his shoulders in, wraps his arms tight around Parker's bare shoulders and holds her close while the blood prickles its way back into his fingertips.
She wriggles slightly, but then, her hands are on his shoulders, and she lifts herself up and slides down again, even without his hands on her hips. She knows exactly what she wants and she goes for it, and Hardison is nothing but a passenger holding on for the ride.
The orgasm, when it finally comes, is blindingly intense and leaves him weak-limbed like a new-born kitten, but he doesn't care.
Not when he can lie curled around Parker and wait for his heartbeat and breathing to return to a normal rate.
Cool steel is wrapped back around his wrist. Before he can protest, the cuff clicks shut, trapping him again.
Parker grins. "Again?"