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kathierif_ficTitle: Boytoy
Author: Kathie
Rating: FRT-13
Fandom: CSI:NY
Pairing: Stella Bonasera/Don Flack
Disclaimer: Not mine. At the moment, I don't even have my own room. But that's another rant for another day. Basically I'm just borrowing these characters to have some fun. Otherwise I'd do something terrible to my brother and lit the house on fire.
Summary: He's her boytoy, and he knows it.
Author's Notes: Inspired by the last scene of Heroes.
He was used to be ordered around by her. It happened every day, and given their profession and her general attitude towards everyone, not only him, it didn't surprise him. He had learned early in their relationship - jobwise, and personal-wise - that it was wise to do as she said. She was able to rip into him like Mac, but instead of cool anger, hers was hot and blazing, like lava. She was a volcano, and it was best to run and hide if she lost her temper.
She wasn't afraid of him. Despite the fact that he was taller than her, she stood up to him, everytime they disagreed on something. She challenged him constantly, his way of seeing the world around them, and that wasn't limited to crime scenes.
They worked well together, that much was obvious. And it wasn't just that he knew when her temper got the best of her, or the other way around - they just clicked. He didn't mind working with her. He looked forwards to it. And when she, more or less accidentally, brushed her glove-covered fingers against his when she handed him a piece of evidence to get bagged and tagged, or when she ordered him to hold something for her, he often had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop the grin. He was homicide, after all, and it wouldn't look good if he smiled happily while one or more murders had to be investigated.
She just was a force to be reckoned with, he thought, not only in the lab. She was the only one who could make him go and fetch her a cup of tea just because. Everyone else, he would have flipped off. After all, they all had perfectly working legs, and if they wanted something, they could go and get it themselves. He could take Danny's smirks when she sent him on an errant again, and Mac's knowing looks, or the whispered comments behind his back - he didn't even mind that they called him boytoy to his face.
He had, basically, accepted that it was true. He was hers, body and soul, and if she asked him to jump off the highest building he could find, he would do it, without thinking twice.
Of course, that thought proved to him more than anything else that he had it bad.
Two arms wrapped around him, and he turned away from his contemplative gazing out of the window without leaving her embrace. She was apartment hunting at the moment, since she couldn't stay at her old place, and instead of doing what Mac had told her, weeks, if not months ago, and go to a hotel, she had taken him up on his offer and had, for the time being, more or less moved in with him. It was utterly chaotic and had led to several heated arguments - just because he freely admitted that he would do everything for her didn't mean that he would just roll over and take everything without a fight - but they had found a way. Now he had banned her alarm clock from the bedroom and had buried it somewhere she probably wouldn't find it, and in return, she had started to pick his ties for him in the morning. He woke her with a goodmorning kiss, and she agreed to do the dishes. And, of course, the sex was fabulous.
In short, they had found a way to run things more or less smoothly.
"Hey," she smiled at him and pressed her cheek against his chest. "Are you okay?"
His arms came up automatically and wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her even closer to his body. "Yeah," he murmured softly and hid his face in her hair. "I just realized something."
Her arms were still around him, holding him, hands running soothingly over his back, when she pulled back a fraction and grinned at him. "Care to share, detective Flack?"
He leaned down again, and she turned her face upwards, just the way he wanted, without ever being told so. She just knew what he was thinking most of the time, and he was constantly surprised by her. It was the best relationship he'd ever had.
Their lips met in a soft kiss.
"I love you," he said.
She smiled. "I know. And I love you too."
And with those words she took his face between her hands and kissed him deeply and hungrily, her lips soft against his and yet so unyielding, her tongue invading his mouth, her thumbs stroking his skin gently. All he could do was hold on and trust her to catch him.
He really didn't mind being the younger one in this relationship...
...and he didn't mind being her boytoy. It had its advantages, he thought while she dragged him towards the bedroom.
The End.
Author: Kathie
Rating: FRT-13
Fandom: CSI:NY
Pairing: Stella Bonasera/Don Flack
Disclaimer: Not mine. At the moment, I don't even have my own room. But that's another rant for another day. Basically I'm just borrowing these characters to have some fun. Otherwise I'd do something terrible to my brother and lit the house on fire.
Summary: He's her boytoy, and he knows it.
Author's Notes: Inspired by the last scene of Heroes.
He was used to be ordered around by her. It happened every day, and given their profession and her general attitude towards everyone, not only him, it didn't surprise him. He had learned early in their relationship - jobwise, and personal-wise - that it was wise to do as she said. She was able to rip into him like Mac, but instead of cool anger, hers was hot and blazing, like lava. She was a volcano, and it was best to run and hide if she lost her temper.
She wasn't afraid of him. Despite the fact that he was taller than her, she stood up to him, everytime they disagreed on something. She challenged him constantly, his way of seeing the world around them, and that wasn't limited to crime scenes.
They worked well together, that much was obvious. And it wasn't just that he knew when her temper got the best of her, or the other way around - they just clicked. He didn't mind working with her. He looked forwards to it. And when she, more or less accidentally, brushed her glove-covered fingers against his when she handed him a piece of evidence to get bagged and tagged, or when she ordered him to hold something for her, he often had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop the grin. He was homicide, after all, and it wouldn't look good if he smiled happily while one or more murders had to be investigated.
She just was a force to be reckoned with, he thought, not only in the lab. She was the only one who could make him go and fetch her a cup of tea just because. Everyone else, he would have flipped off. After all, they all had perfectly working legs, and if they wanted something, they could go and get it themselves. He could take Danny's smirks when she sent him on an errant again, and Mac's knowing looks, or the whispered comments behind his back - he didn't even mind that they called him boytoy to his face.
He had, basically, accepted that it was true. He was hers, body and soul, and if she asked him to jump off the highest building he could find, he would do it, without thinking twice.
Of course, that thought proved to him more than anything else that he had it bad.
Two arms wrapped around him, and he turned away from his contemplative gazing out of the window without leaving her embrace. She was apartment hunting at the moment, since she couldn't stay at her old place, and instead of doing what Mac had told her, weeks, if not months ago, and go to a hotel, she had taken him up on his offer and had, for the time being, more or less moved in with him. It was utterly chaotic and had led to several heated arguments - just because he freely admitted that he would do everything for her didn't mean that he would just roll over and take everything without a fight - but they had found a way. Now he had banned her alarm clock from the bedroom and had buried it somewhere she probably wouldn't find it, and in return, she had started to pick his ties for him in the morning. He woke her with a goodmorning kiss, and she agreed to do the dishes. And, of course, the sex was fabulous.
In short, they had found a way to run things more or less smoothly.
"Hey," she smiled at him and pressed her cheek against his chest. "Are you okay?"
His arms came up automatically and wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her even closer to his body. "Yeah," he murmured softly and hid his face in her hair. "I just realized something."
Her arms were still around him, holding him, hands running soothingly over his back, when she pulled back a fraction and grinned at him. "Care to share, detective Flack?"
He leaned down again, and she turned her face upwards, just the way he wanted, without ever being told so. She just knew what he was thinking most of the time, and he was constantly surprised by her. It was the best relationship he'd ever had.
Their lips met in a soft kiss.
"I love you," he said.
She smiled. "I know. And I love you too."
And with those words she took his face between her hands and kissed him deeply and hungrily, her lips soft against his and yet so unyielding, her tongue invading his mouth, her thumbs stroking his skin gently. All he could do was hold on and trust her to catch him.
He really didn't mind being the younger one in this relationship...
...and he didn't mind being her boytoy. It had its advantages, he thought while she dragged him towards the bedroom.
The End.