Do You Believe In Magic? by the Lovin’ Spoonful
Logan watched with a half smile as Marie twirled on the deck, throwing her hands out and laughing with sheer joy. He knew it had been a good idea to set up the outdoor sound system. She felt claustrophobic inside, around so many people that she could never touch, but when she was outside, she feel freer.
He’d come across music he knew she’d love, and hadn’t been able to rest until he’d figured out a way to get the outdoor deck rigged for stereo sound. He’d left her a note, telling her to go outside, that there was a gift waiting for her, and had sat back to watch the show.
She had known instantly that it was his way of telling her that she’d be okay, no matter what. She began dancing as soon as the music had filled the air, feeling the glee in her soul bubble up until it spilled out of her in the form of laughter. She would be okay. She might not be able to touch people, but there were ways of connecting that didn’t involve skin. Logan had cared enough to show her.
Beautiful, by Akon (and co.)
Hotch pushed his way through the crowd of people, finally reaching the front of the line. The bouncer recognized him with an easy grin and moved aside to let him pass. The club greeted him with pounding bass and smooth vocals, and hundreds of people on the dance floor. How on earth was he going to find her?
He started to head to the bar for a drink, but then people moved aside and he caught sight of her. His breath caught in his throat and he forced himself to swallow, hard. She was wearing… something incredible. Her shoulders were bare, her hair was pulled up to highlight the curve of her shoulder.
He found himself pulled towards her until he stood before her, just watching her dance. Her eyes were closed as she moved in rhythm with the music, and he realized that he was moving as well. The crowd pushed him closer to her until he was pressed against her back, moving with her. She smelled incredible, and he’d never found it harder to keep from sealing his mouth to her collarbone.
She suddenly turned in his arms to face him, and opened her eyes to smile up at him. She didn’t seem that surprised to see him dancing with her, and instead grabbed his hands to place them low on her hips. He grinned down at her in return, and saw her nostrils flare and her pupils dilate in reaction. He knew he didn’t smile all that often, but if this was the effect it had, he’d be sure to do it more around her.
She moved even closer, flicking her tongue out to lick her lips in response, and he groaned. He couldn’t help himself, he’d kept his distance for long enough. One hand slid up to the back of her head, pulling her mouth up to his, while his other hand slid around to the small of her back, pressing her even closer. As their lips finally met, he knew that kissing Emily was what he needed to be doing for the rest of his life.
Dirty Little Secret, by All-American Rejects
He slammed her against the wall, mouth fused to hers. She gave a short laugh as she pushed his jacket off quickly, pulling away long enough to yank his t-shirt over his head. When his hands crept up her shirt, pulling her blouse with it, she shivered. No matter how many times they ended up in this position, it felt as intense and wildly hot as the first time they’d crashed together in a furious tangling of tongues and limbs.
A door slammed in the distance, and she jumped. He shook his head in wordless response and sealed his mouth to her collarbone as she worked on his belt buckle. They were keeping their relationship under wraps; the response would be too wildly difficult to gauge, and they had too much going on at the moment. Instead they jumped one another each opportunity they got.
But when the footsteps drew closer, and Danny called, “Stella? Hawkes?” they reluctantly pulled apart and began dressing once more. He muttered, “My place, after work,” and kissed her jaw before walking swiftly to the exit to distract Danny so she could escape.
Stella laughed to herself and shook her head. As crazy as this was, she wouldn’t change it for the world.
-+-
A/N: I have no idea where this came from; I had intended to take it in a completely different direction. But apparently I think that Stella and Hawkes belong together. (from CSI: New York, in case you didn’t know)
sparks
He grinned down at her, eyes crinkling in that undeniably warm way, simply sharing the joy of life. Suddenly, the room seemed too small, and her cheeks felt hot. As she stared up at him, she was seized by a mad desire, and decided to follow through before she chickened out.
“Hold on, there’s something I’ve always wanted to do.” The unspoken before it’s too late hung in the air.
She stepped closer, breathing in. His cologne was subtle, a strong undertone of masculinity. He stood motionless, just watching her, his grin fading into an unreadable expression. Surely he could sense her intentions. He’d back away if he wasn’t interested, if he wasn’t as curious as she.
Holding her breath, she lifted her hands up to his neck, slowly, so slowly. Still he didn’t move, his gaze heavy-lidded.
“I, uh, hope you don’t mind.” Because it’s kept me awake at night, and I hope to God that you’ve been wondering, too.
Raising her mouth to his, she pressed her lips against his softly, savoring each sensation. His mouth was cold from the drink, but his skin was warm. Goosebumps shivered up her arm. His arms hung loosely by his side, but did he tilt his head ever-so-slightly to help the angle?
Fueled by her mad dash off the cliff, her new mantra cycling through her head, now or never, she opened her lips slightly and slipped her tongue through.
Suddenly, he was pushing her against the wall, kissing her back so hard that she couldn’t breathe. His arms were tight around her, pulling her into him and his body was hard against hers, pressing her through the wall, as she met him kiss-for-kiss. His tongue was cold at first from the ice cube he’d been crunching, but his mouth was hot against hers as he stole her breath and her train of thought. Feeling playful, she spun them so that he was the one pushed against the wall, and she was falling into him, and he laughed before he fused her mouth to his once more.
A loud crack outside and resulting laughter suddenly brought them back to the present, and they eased apart slowly. She took a shaky breath, her hand against his chest, forehead pressed against his cheek. She touched his shoulder, lightly, with her fingers.
“Well. Now I know.”
She nodded once, then stepped slightly, reluctantly, away from him.
He followed her ever so slightly with his body, head still quite close to hers, his breathing just as unsteady. He swallowed hard, then: “Don’t go.” The only words he’d spoken since before.
Unable to resist, she allowed him to catch her mouth again, kissing him until she couldn’t remember her name. He bit her lip gently and she shuddered, letting out a nearly inaudible moan. His hands stroked down her back and she melted against him helplessly.
Can open.
Worms everywhere.
What do you think?
Grand passion, in my experience, has always led to heartbreak and a Very Bad breakup.
But what about warm fuzzies? Will those turn into a slow burn to last a lifetime?
Will the (warm, gentle) solid pressure of his hand at my back remain, (as opposed to the sly entwining of his arm about my waist, which melted away as soon as opposition arose)?
We’ve known one another for more than a decade, and he’s still here. Even interested. Am I a fool to ignore such a thing, simply because I do not feel swept off my feet?
Is this the first fully mature, adult relationship I might have?
Teasing
Not bothering to hide my satisfied smile, I looked up, tilting my head ever-so-slightly, and said nothing, just raising an eyebrow.
He looked more frustrated than ever, audibly swallowing back words that were threatening to spill out. He reached out and stroked a hand down my face, then suddenly slid it into my hair, pulling tight.
A thrill ran through me at his suddenly aggressive behavior. Would he kiss me in public, and damn the consequences?
He looked at me for a long moment, visibly tempted, then released my hair and took a step back. ”You shouldn’t tempt me like that. One of these days, who knows what’ll happen.”
I simply smiled again, and gave a languid shrug. My voice was barely audible as he walked away, “That’s what I’m hoping for.” He paused, but gave no other indication that he’d heard.
Moments
He leaned over, brushing the back of my hand in a smooth motion.
And with that movement, my soul shivered to life.
Forbidden
Ever have those cravings? The untouchable, the unattainable, the forbidden… I tend to sympathize with the character of Eve more than curse her, because I would probably do the same thing.
With some people, you have an instant camaraderie, as if sliding on an old shoe that hugs your foot perfectly. And with a precious few, there is a spark, the faintest tinge of electricity arcing between you, and you’re almost afraid to touch lest you accidentally set your surroundings on fire.
But realistically speaking… how often does that actually happen?
