#areaderandawriter

You snap your head up at him in shock. It's felt like the longest hours of your life this time.

Takeshi has guided you through some scenes that feel so real, you're embarrassed when he's had to remind you you're still at the Raven. Now, however, the slight tilt of unreality has stayed with you longer than ever. That was progress, you suppose.

You remain on your knees for a few minutes more regardless.

And Tak seems to figure that pushing you to your limit is unnecessary today. You've managed to make progress the handful of times you've tried grasping virtual reality.

The hectic scene Takeshi has created around you melts away, and you can feel a sense of control being passed back to you. Your mind automatically draws from your sense of relief. Soon, the space around you morphs into a quiet, sunlit bedroom room- the one from your briefly comforting childhood.

Your peace is broken by another tut from the envoy.

"Revealing yourself again. You want me to tattoo 'open book' on your forehead?"

You sit up on the soft carpet. "I thought were were taking a break."

"Your first instinct can't be a place like this."

You let out a small grunt of frustration. But already, your gaze falling on Takeshi's form makes your thoughts bubble up again. The room darkens, and the cool comfort of your room at the Raven manifests around you.

You snap your eyes away from the bed in an instant. Takeshi notices- of course he does. He pulls his cigarette from his lips and you will yourself not to let your eyes linger on the way they stay perfectly parted.

"You're nervous." He notes, with some curiosity.

You swallow faintly. Darting your eyes away toward the window, you imagine a sunny day outside, and with some mental straining, the rain-dark clouds outside brighten to soft white.

Exhausted, you get back on your feet. You keep your eyes on the window. "I told you. We've been doing this too often. I need a break."

Tak arches a brow. He knows a deflect when he hears one. Tak's body jumps across the room in a blink, his voice drawing your attention. In one turn of your head, you make the mistake of glancing at him from across the large, plush bed.

Tak. The Bed.

How many nights had it been now, ending with you saying goodnight to the envoy and heading to your own room. How many times have you tried to unwind with a hot bath, only to find yourself still wound tight under the covers.

And how many times have you yanked the covers off your flushed skin in the dark, your hand slipping between your aching thighs as you let your mind wander back to your mentor- just one more time.

You pry your virtual eyes open and find yourself lying down in that very bed with a horrified gasp.

Takeshi Kovacs stands over you beside the bed with a sly smirk.

"So." He drawls. "This is what you don't want me seeing."

"I-I-" You stutter. Somewhere, in the ether of virtual, you feel Tak's deft mind prod your thoughts as you try to keep up the wall he's taught you to form. Like a wolf on the edge of a glen. You wait with bated breath, but he seems to stop short of reading your mind outright. In the real, he wouldn't have to.

You press your bare thighs together as you wrap your arms around yourself. Tak's eyes remain on yours as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed.

"You don't have to be worried." He reminds you quietly. "Poe's got his eye on us."

You flush, slapping your hands over your warm face. "That just makes this all the more embarrassing."

A gentle tug on the hem of your thin night shirt makes you twitch. You glance through your fingers to see Takeshi still staring down at you with a intense expression you can't quite name. Your hands slip down your face, your fingers slowly gliding down your neck and upper chest.

Finally, his question.

"Do you think of me?" He utters. "When you touch yourself?"

His voice seems to slip through whatever cracking resolve you have left.

Like a rug pulling from under you, you fall into the memory of just last night. When the tilt of your hips had wiped all thoughts from your mind but one: Takeshi's name in the shape of a gasp on your tongue, sending you reeling with pleasure. You imagined his rough, roaming hands. The press of his knees between your legs. His voice. His voice. Every word a command. You can feel it now. Building again. That hot pressure. That filling heat.

You jostle back to this artificial 'present'. Your flush spreads down, down your chest and body til that familiar ache settles in your belly.

Tak shudders with you. His normally contained expression threatening to twist into something more. Tongue darting out, the envoy wets his lips as he watches you try to regain your composure.

The next flash isn't yours. From what you can recognize it isn't even a memory. It's a fantasy. Your limbs entangled with Takeshi's, his breath hot in your ear. Your hips involuntarily thrust as you see through his eyes, see yourself from his point of view as you chase a release that doesn't belong to you. You are him and with him. It's all so real you feel yourself being swept up. Weightless ecstasy.

Ripping away from it all, you sit up in the fake bed, chest heaving. Takeshi has shifted closer to you now, his hands gripping the sheets as he watches you watching him.

A thought dares to cross your mind, but Tak shakes his head.

"Not here." He whispers. No longer calm and collected. He grits through his clenched jaw, as breathless and wanton as you feel.

"Tak?"

"Not here." He repeats.

He pulls away from your neck, where he's just been making your head spin with every ravenous nip and lick of his mouth. You wouldn't have even noticed the sound. Not with the way he was thrusting into you just moments before.

You open your eyes. Takeshi arches his brow down at you.

"What was that?" He prods.

You bite your lip with a flush, arms still clinging around his broad shoulders.

"Nothing?"

It was difficult enough to lie when he was simply beside you. But now- while he's between your legs, his length still filling your core- he can hardly expect you to concentrate, can he?

You stomach rumbles loudly again, unmistakable this time.

Takeshi opens his mouth, but you witness the rare moment when he's speechless.

Finally, he speaks. "Is this not interesting enough for you?"

"Well, I- I'm not doing it on purpose!" You slap your hands over your face with embarrassment.

"No, clearly you're preoccupied. I'll stop."

"No!" You cross your ankles behind the small of his back in an instant, locking them there. You feel the light huff of Takeshi's breath brush your ear. "It's just that we... we had sex for so long last night..."

He smirks down at you as you peek through your fingers.

"...And then you woke me up with some more. And it's good! Of course it is, Tak. You make me feel so good." You suck in a breath when he gives you a tantalizing roll of his hips. Your eyes flutter as he gazes down at you. Still, you redden as you admit it.

"...I'm just... so hungry." You whine.

The chuckle that leaves Takeshi's lips is feather light.

Then it grows, the deep sound of a laugh escaping him as his mouth splits into a smile. He drops his forehead against yours as his chest shakes with mirth. You try to resist, but you can't help joining him. And you can't help the way your walls clench around him at the action.

Tak moans at the feeling of you tightening around him, his hips canting again. He glances at you when you reach up and brush a few strands of dark blonde hair from his eyes.

"What?" He murmurs quietly against your lips.

Rick throws the back exit door to the bar open a few moments later, letting the two of you out into the cool Louisiana air. It hits the brick wall with a bang, bouncing back behind you as you follow him.

"Fucker thinks he can manhandle you like that. Manhandle anyone like that infronna me." He grits through his clenched jaw. His southern drawl is thicker when he's angry.

You watch him pace back and forth, his hands low on his hips as he tries to let the steam off. Rick turns around and walks right up to you, and you arch a brow in faint amusement.

"Knew he was trouble." Rick accuses as he points back inside.

"Mhm." You agree.

"Always talkin'. Can't even take a punch." He scoffs.

"To be fair, you know how to land 'em well."

"I shoulda let you knock that asshole out. Can't believe you're datin' him." He continues warily. But you grasp both his elbows before he can start pacing again.

Rick stills immediately, blinking down at you.

"If I hadn't just broken up with him, I certainly would have done it after a display like that." You assure him. Rick takes a moment to process the news before it clicks.

"You- you're done with him?"

"Rick, that was entirely inappropriate in there! He showed his colors, and I'm done." You huff.

The colonel opens his mouth, then closes it. Then he opens it again after straightening his shoulders. "Well good, 'cuz I need to tell you somethin' and- and I'm not gonna wait til it's too late again."

Again? You wonder.

"You..." Rick trails off uncharacteristically. "I'm sick of you gettin' treated like that. I know you can handle yourself out there but I-"

"...Yes, Rick?"

Your stomach flutters when Rick moves a step forward and takes your face in both his hands gently. You remain still, gazing up at his flash of hesitation- at the soft pang of nervousness you so rarely witnessed when it came to your best friend.

"I... I wouldn't treat you like that. You know I wouldn't. You kick my ass when I'm outta line and I'm fuckin' in love with you for it, darlin'. I- I- love-"

Rick stills when he realizes he's already admitted it. His tongue darts between his lips anxiously before he rips his hands away.

The two of you let the confession hang there for a moment in silence.

"Rick..." You finally say.

He steps back. "No, you don't have to-"

"Jesus! Can I get a word in edgewise with anyone tonight?" You cry, nearly bursting into laughter.

Rick swallows, looking dejectedly at you.

"I... gosh, I've been waiting for so long to hear you say that. Kind of wish I was more prepared." You remark.

You decide against any further words and close the space between you and Rick. His eyes search yours wildly til the last moment, almost unready to kiss you as you pull him down to you by the front of his shirt.

Everything familiar about him- his brand of beer, his cologne and the sweet tang of sweat after a night of drinks in a packed bar. Even the soft sound of his breath as it hitches against your lips- all hit you in a way you've never experienced.

You could compare the thrill to an airdrop, or the moment before a grenade goes off. And Rick Flag would understand exactly what you mean, because no one knows you more inside out than the man standing in front of you.

When you pull away, Rick appears to be having a similar revelation. His eyes open again slowly as the crease between his brows softens, disappearing.

The two of you stand there in each other's arms, both familiar and entirely different now all at once.

"You really should've let me knock his lights out." You murmur. "I was looking forward to it all night."

"You're not driving, are you?"

You glance around to see Rick Flag placing his own empty flute onto a passing busser's tray.

He looks good, you note. His all black attire- suit, dress shirt, and tie- all hug his features with definition.

You shake your head again, this time rolling your eyes as you brush past him. "Of course not, Colonel. Enjoy your night."

You say a few more goodbyes to your colleagues before heading to the elevators out in the hotel proper. You wait boredly as the numbers tick up until finally one of the cars lets you inside.

You don't conceal your grin when Rick steps into the elevator with you at the last moment. The doors slide closed, plunging the two of you into silence.

"You know, I'd feel much better if you'd let me walk you home." He finally comments.

He's got on a soft smile, clearly put there from a night of good food and a few drinks. Working for Argus rarely felt like it had it's perks- but tonight's little event for the agents was actually quite nice. And it was true- your apartment really was in town.

You narrow your eyes with a hum. "And if I so happen to ask you inside for a cup of coffee?"

It doesn't take long before Rick Flag is crossing the small space between you, his hands removing themselves from their pockets to slip around your hips in a familiar embrace. Rick kisses you like he's starved himself all night just for a taste, the heated slide of your lips echoing in the quiet elevator.

You moan when you feel him slip his hand past the slit of your dress, fingers trailing up the back of your thigh. Rick swallows your gasp as he draws you even closer.

The two of you pull apart when you feel the car slow to a stop, breathless and gazes lustful.

Rick's smirk his devilish. "I s'pose I might have to say yes."