[Fic] Long-Distance Calling Plan
Jul. 5th, 2010 11:57 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kittydesadeTitle: Long-Distance Calling Plan
Fandom: The Losers (film)
Characters: Clay/Aisha
Word Count: 1,300
Rating: R
Summary: Clay and Aisha are insatiable, even when they're an ocean apart.
A/N: Written for![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kink_bingo "Phonesex"
It was the first assignment they'd had working for this particular client. Private security, it turned out, was even more boring than the waiting periods between missions and attacks.
"Convoy, you're five by, ready when you are."
It didn't help that they were waiting on possibly the most irresponsible, feckless reprobate ever to head a multi-billion dollar company. Genius engineer he might be, but if he didn't start pulling his shit together Aisha was going to deck him one, incredibly useful weapons or no incredibly useful weapons.
Aisha leaned back, flipped the radio's microphone off, and called Clay to check in.
"Hey, babe."
She wrinkled her nose at the phone, but smiled. Just hearing his voice made her feel more at ease, more as though she was working with someone competent instead of a collection of inexperienced youngsters (who were barely older than herself but that wasn't the point) headed by a sodden idiot. "No fair calling me that when I can't hit you," she commented dryly, checking the landscape yet again through the binoculars. "How's yours?"
"Nice and easy. She knows how to behave when she's under death threat." Which was both praise and resignation. Praise that his client knew how to make his job easier, resignation that it was necessary at all. He liked her, had sort of adopted her as one of the family, at least the kid sister he never had. Occasionally that irritated Aisha, but in this particular instance it probably made all their jobs much easier. "How's Dubai?"
"Sandy."
There was that rumbling chuckle again that she liked. She especially liked it when it was close to her ear, his stubble brushing against her cheek and tickling, scratching at her skin. She would have preferred that, very much so, to her current position of getting gravel ground into her jeans on a rooftop.
"Poor baby. You should be used to that by now."
"Used to it and liking it are two very different things. And if I'm going to get sand in inappropriate places, I'd much rather do it on a beach in Malibu. Maybe in the Bahamas." She let that image sink in for a moment before adding. "If you're very good, I might let you put lotion on my back."
He made a noise that told her he very much enjoyed that image. "Only your back?"
"If you're very, very good, I might let you rub lotion into my whole body. All warm from all that sun. You could straddle me on the blanket and press all that moisture into my flesh. Get me all oiled up..."
Clay grunted. At least, it sounded like a grunt. It also sounded like a whimper. "Dammit, Aisha..."
"Private beach. No one else around to see if you wanted to peel off whatever I was wearing. Rub a little oil on all those hidden parts. You like rubbing my hidden parts, I noticed..."
There was a clattering sound on the other end of the line, like he'd dropped something. Aisha smirked.
And then caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Damn. Damn damn damn, this would have to wait. Clay was just about to say something, too, and managed a couple of words before she cut him off. "Babe, you're..."
"Gotta go. He's out. We're moving."
All business, just like that "See you when you get back."
Well. All business, except for the squelching in her pants.
At the end of the day was the end of her shift, and operational control got turned over to the night guards. Aisha stripped down and stretched out on the bed, thinking.
Her phone ringing didn't make her jump or startle. Did make her look over to check who it was, grinning when she saw the private number. "Hello, stranger. Something I can help you with?"
"About that beach," Clay rumbled, and by the tone of his voice she realized he must be off duty, too. Or at least, not expecting to be interrupted for a little while. "This'd be a private beach, then? One maybe with bathing suits as more of an option than a requirement?"
Bastard. At least she was in a position to take advantage of his deep, suggestive voice. "Bathing suits? I wasn't thinking bathing suits were in this picture at all. I like feeling the heat of the sun on all my body."
"I kind of noticed that might not be the only thing you like feeling on your body," he murmured back. She shifted, squirming a bit, sitting up to look over and check to make sure the door was bolted, yes, so she wouldn't be interrupted. "Maybe we should save the lotion till after I've gone over you with my mouth. I noticed you like feeling my stubble down there on your thighs. And I might have noticed you liking my tongue between your legs..."
Oh god, she did. She'd known men who scorned at that kind of thing and he definitely didn't, he really enjoyed it, and she enjoyed his enthusiasm. Right now, her fingers traced over her belly and dipped down, tracing the paths he seemed to favor. "Well, you do seem to have a taste for it."
He chuckled. It made her think, again, of his hot breath by her ear, his broad chest pressed against hers. "I like the way you taste, babe," he teased, and she made a noise that was somewhere between a growl and a whimper.
"You like the way I feel," Aisha countered, when she could think again. "You like the way I feel around you, whether it's my thighs wrapped around your head or your waist. You like just sinking that hard-on into me, feeling me open up and take you..."
"... so wet..." he breathed. His breath hitched in a way that she could tell what he was doing, oh yeah, and that just made it hotter.
"You get me wet. You and that fucking smirk of yours, like you know exactly what you do to me. Like you know all it takes is a shadow and a wall and fifteen minutes to ourselves for you to get me up against the wall and wrap my legs around your waist and you can fuck me senseless..."
"I like it when you fuck me senseless," he growled. His breathing coming faster, which made her breathing quicken, her heart race. "I like getting you on top of me, watching you bounce up and down on me like it drives you crazy..."
"You drive me crazy," she whispered.
"... watching that look on your face as you come, watching the way you move and all those little sounds you make..."
Like the sounds she was making now. She could picture it, feel it almost, the rough texture of all the walls he'd slammed her against, the way his hands felt on her hips and thighs pulling her hard onto him. The way he felt, filled her, hot and thick and the only thing that would make it better, well. She smirked a little, dragged words up from somewhere, from another set of memories.
"You liked it even better when it was bareback, and you could feel all ofme..."
She knew the sound of that groan, closed her eyes and leaned her head back imagining the scent and the splash. Hot and sticky and coating the inside of her thigh that one time and that sent her over, moaning. Hearing him groan even through the distortion. Knowing, intimately, what that looked and felt like.
"You're bad," he chuckled. Her eyes closed, the better to imagine his smile.
"You're worse."
"Get some sleep, chocolate. Check in on you tomorrow."
"Sleep well," she told him, laughing.
"Oh, I will."
Fandom: The Losers (film)
Characters: Clay/Aisha
Word Count: 1,300
Rating: R
Summary: Clay and Aisha are insatiable, even when they're an ocean apart.
A/N: Written for
kink_bingo "Phonesex"It was the first assignment they'd had working for this particular client. Private security, it turned out, was even more boring than the waiting periods between missions and attacks.
"Convoy, you're five by, ready when you are."
It didn't help that they were waiting on possibly the most irresponsible, feckless reprobate ever to head a multi-billion dollar company. Genius engineer he might be, but if he didn't start pulling his shit together Aisha was going to deck him one, incredibly useful weapons or no incredibly useful weapons.
Aisha leaned back, flipped the radio's microphone off, and called Clay to check in.
"Hey, babe."
She wrinkled her nose at the phone, but smiled. Just hearing his voice made her feel more at ease, more as though she was working with someone competent instead of a collection of inexperienced youngsters (who were barely older than herself but that wasn't the point) headed by a sodden idiot. "No fair calling me that when I can't hit you," she commented dryly, checking the landscape yet again through the binoculars. "How's yours?"
"Nice and easy. She knows how to behave when she's under death threat." Which was both praise and resignation. Praise that his client knew how to make his job easier, resignation that it was necessary at all. He liked her, had sort of adopted her as one of the family, at least the kid sister he never had. Occasionally that irritated Aisha, but in this particular instance it probably made all their jobs much easier. "How's Dubai?"
"Sandy."
There was that rumbling chuckle again that she liked. She especially liked it when it was close to her ear, his stubble brushing against her cheek and tickling, scratching at her skin. She would have preferred that, very much so, to her current position of getting gravel ground into her jeans on a rooftop.
"Poor baby. You should be used to that by now."
"Used to it and liking it are two very different things. And if I'm going to get sand in inappropriate places, I'd much rather do it on a beach in Malibu. Maybe in the Bahamas." She let that image sink in for a moment before adding. "If you're very good, I might let you put lotion on my back."
He made a noise that told her he very much enjoyed that image. "Only your back?"
"If you're very, very good, I might let you rub lotion into my whole body. All warm from all that sun. You could straddle me on the blanket and press all that moisture into my flesh. Get me all oiled up..."
Clay grunted. At least, it sounded like a grunt. It also sounded like a whimper. "Dammit, Aisha..."
"Private beach. No one else around to see if you wanted to peel off whatever I was wearing. Rub a little oil on all those hidden parts. You like rubbing my hidden parts, I noticed..."
There was a clattering sound on the other end of the line, like he'd dropped something. Aisha smirked.
And then caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Damn. Damn damn damn, this would have to wait. Clay was just about to say something, too, and managed a couple of words before she cut him off. "Babe, you're..."
"Gotta go. He's out. We're moving."
All business, just like that "See you when you get back."
Well. All business, except for the squelching in her pants.
At the end of the day was the end of her shift, and operational control got turned over to the night guards. Aisha stripped down and stretched out on the bed, thinking.
Her phone ringing didn't make her jump or startle. Did make her look over to check who it was, grinning when she saw the private number. "Hello, stranger. Something I can help you with?"
"About that beach," Clay rumbled, and by the tone of his voice she realized he must be off duty, too. Or at least, not expecting to be interrupted for a little while. "This'd be a private beach, then? One maybe with bathing suits as more of an option than a requirement?"
Bastard. At least she was in a position to take advantage of his deep, suggestive voice. "Bathing suits? I wasn't thinking bathing suits were in this picture at all. I like feeling the heat of the sun on all my body."
"I kind of noticed that might not be the only thing you like feeling on your body," he murmured back. She shifted, squirming a bit, sitting up to look over and check to make sure the door was bolted, yes, so she wouldn't be interrupted. "Maybe we should save the lotion till after I've gone over you with my mouth. I noticed you like feeling my stubble down there on your thighs. And I might have noticed you liking my tongue between your legs..."
Oh god, she did. She'd known men who scorned at that kind of thing and he definitely didn't, he really enjoyed it, and she enjoyed his enthusiasm. Right now, her fingers traced over her belly and dipped down, tracing the paths he seemed to favor. "Well, you do seem to have a taste for it."
He chuckled. It made her think, again, of his hot breath by her ear, his broad chest pressed against hers. "I like the way you taste, babe," he teased, and she made a noise that was somewhere between a growl and a whimper.
"You like the way I feel," Aisha countered, when she could think again. "You like the way I feel around you, whether it's my thighs wrapped around your head or your waist. You like just sinking that hard-on into me, feeling me open up and take you..."
"... so wet..." he breathed. His breath hitched in a way that she could tell what he was doing, oh yeah, and that just made it hotter.
"You get me wet. You and that fucking smirk of yours, like you know exactly what you do to me. Like you know all it takes is a shadow and a wall and fifteen minutes to ourselves for you to get me up against the wall and wrap my legs around your waist and you can fuck me senseless..."
"I like it when you fuck me senseless," he growled. His breathing coming faster, which made her breathing quicken, her heart race. "I like getting you on top of me, watching you bounce up and down on me like it drives you crazy..."
"You drive me crazy," she whispered.
"... watching that look on your face as you come, watching the way you move and all those little sounds you make..."
Like the sounds she was making now. She could picture it, feel it almost, the rough texture of all the walls he'd slammed her against, the way his hands felt on her hips and thighs pulling her hard onto him. The way he felt, filled her, hot and thick and the only thing that would make it better, well. She smirked a little, dragged words up from somewhere, from another set of memories.
"You liked it even better when it was bareback, and you could feel all ofme..."
She knew the sound of that groan, closed her eyes and leaned her head back imagining the scent and the splash. Hot and sticky and coating the inside of her thigh that one time and that sent her over, moaning. Hearing him groan even through the distortion. Knowing, intimately, what that looked and felt like.
"You're bad," he chuckled. Her eyes closed, the better to imagine his smile.
"You're worse."
"Get some sleep, chocolate. Check in on you tomorrow."
"Sleep well," she told him, laughing.
"Oh, I will."