#reesexfinch

1. First Ship You Ever Shipped:

Goliath/Elisa Maza

2. First OTP Ship:

Hawkeye Pierce/Margaret Houlihan

3. Current Favorite Ships:

Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet

Crowley/Aziraphale

4. Your Ship Since The First Minute:

Anne Shirley-Cuthbert/Gilbert Blythe

5. Ships You Wish Were Canon:

John Reese/Harold Finch

6. Ship That Most Of The Fandom Hates But You Love:

Edith Crawley/Anthony Strallan

7. You Don't Even Watch The Show But You Ship It:

Marcus Keane/Tomas Ortega

8. Ship You Wish Had A Different Storyline:

Olivia Benson/Rafael Barba

9. A Ship Where The Characters Have Barely Met (or not at all):

Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade

Reese held Finch close, breathing in scent before pulling at the bothersome tie and kissing his way down the pale throat, stopping to nip gently at the rapidly beating pulse point. The older man moaned as John hungrily pulled down the golden collar, messing with the shirts fine stitching in his haste as he immediately latched onto the ivory skin revealed.

The operative sucked feverishly, intent on leaving bright red, angry love marks all over Harold’s body. But he concentrated on the neck, it was always the neck. A place were Finch could feel his shirt rubbing against the burning spots, where people could see them winking from the jacket’s high collar and the wind could kiss away the pain gently.

Harold would whine, shift his hip and tug John closer, tipping his head back and offering himself to the beast above, completely at ease with John after many months. And the younger man never disappointed.

-:-

Completely wrapped up in John was a feeling of sheer amazement, the complete protectiveness John gave off was absolutely intoxicating. Finch was devastated of all his clothing, just like John, and only remained wrapped up in a burgundy cover and the operatives caring hold.

And the recluse had never felt safer, even with all the technology and locked doors, pent up frustrations and angry messages-there was always safety with John. So he snuggled closer, threw an arm around Reese’s shoulders and pressed closer to the man as he kicked out a leg and bothered Bear with his foot. And judging by the way the taller man laughed and hugged him happily, Finch figured he could start opening up to him…

Just Possibly.

Bear scouted around the flat, tail wagging as he watched his masters follow suit. Reese with his gun drawn and Harold taking his time closing and locking up the front door. Once the operative was sure the place the clear, he relaxed against the kitchen counters. Finch lumbered over, setting down the briefcase full of banking records and reached down to give Bear a scratch, the dogs tail wagging and tongue hanging out.

Looking up, Finch watched as Reese peeled out of the dirty black jacket, folding it up and tossing it onto the counter. John let out a deep breath and rolled up his sleeves, stretching his arms and just staring at Finch. “Mister Reese?” Harold frowned, stepping over closer and tipping his head to the side. Bold as always, John leaned forward and snagged Finch gently around the waist, nosing down into the soft collar of a tan shirt and settling in there. “J-John,” Harold said with a kind of irritated, yet amused puff of air, simply resting palms flat on either side of Reese’s broad shoulders.

“I need this, just for a few minutes...” Reese mumbled, squeezing Harold a bit tighter and hunkering down. The genius simply let his lips quirk up, moving to thread his nimble fingers through greying locks; gently tilting Johns chin up so he could give him a proper kiss. It was soft and tender, almost as a promise, a nonverbal binding that held them together. And it was just what Reese needed.

plz.

specially the scene where they are washing bear.

that dog is your baby....