[Fic] Icy Hot
Aug. 31st, 2010 05:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kittydesadeTitle: Icy Hot
Fandom: The Losers (film)/A-Team (film)
Characters: Jenna Jensen/Hannibal Smith
Word Count: 745
Rating: R
Summary: There's a heat wave on. Oh baby. Featuring creative use of ice cubes.
A/N: Written for![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kink_bingo prompt "Sensation Play"
It was the middle of freaking September, but the heat wave didn't know that. Leslie's mom had volunteered to take the kids at school for a couple hours, which was good, since that was when he chose to stop by.
Jenna Jensen was already dripping sweat down the front of her tank top, fanning herself in the shade. Hot hands on her already hot body was a less than welcome addition, even if they were his hands, until she felt the ice cube skating over her collarbone.
"What are you up to?" she murmured, leaning her head back against him and closing her eyes. He chuckled, but if there was any clue in his expression she missed it.
His mouth tasted of cigar smoke and salt. Too much sweat, or salt in his breakfast, hell, she didn't know. She knew that when his tongue teased over and between her lips she would open her mouth for him, and she knew that even afterwards she probably wouldn't complain about the taste of that damn cigar. It was, like so many little things, uniquely him.
He rolled up her shirt, sweat-soaked and sticking to her skin, up under her arms and stopped when it was rucked up over the tops of her breasts. She meant to ask what he was doing, then shut up and waited impatiently for it when the general thrust of his intentions was made clearer. What with the other ice cubes rolling down the sides of her breasts. Coming up from under and over taut, peaked nipples. It not only felt cooling, it felt really, really good. And he paused there, one hand cupping the ice cube against her breast while he used the other hand to work her shirt up over her arm, then the other side. Every now and then she could hear, this time, his hand rattling in what sounded like a small bucket of ice cubes. How long did he plan on going on with this? Whatever, it didn't matter, as long as he kept touching her like that.
"What heat wave," she murmured.
By now his hands were cool and damp from the ice cubes, and when he slipped them down the back of her pants to roll them down her hips the contrast was far more welcome than the heat, earlier. She felt the weight and warmth of him leave her back as he stopped leaning over her shoulder, then the softness of his lips on the back of her shoulder. And down her spine. He had soft lips for someone who spent probably as much time on a windy helicopter or transport or something as he did.
And as the sweat dried on her bare skin it seemed like she was getting cooler, in contrast with the heat starting between her legs. That had nothing to do with hot weather and everything to do with how slowly and carefully he was moving, hands and mouth down her body, over her hips. She had no idea what he had in mind and she didn't want to move an inch, not for how good this was. She didn't even lift her head back up.
His fingers traveled along and up the inside of her thigh, and she didn't even hear the rattle of the ice in the bucket now. She gasped when the sharp sensation and chill started up the inside of her thigh, moaned when the sliver of ice slid through her lips, rocked back on his fingers, hot inside her where there had been freezing cold a second ago. He didn't have to do much to work her up to the breaking point, at least a tiny one. Shuddering, she felt his fingers on, in her body and felt the little sparks of climax, sharp pulses of pleasure. She felt her shoulders pressing into his chest when she arched, felt the cold air over her breasts.
And then, when things settled down again, she felt herself warming up again. As things seemed to equalize she came aware of the fact that it hadn't actually cooled down, it just felt that way.
He kissed her shoulder; she knew he was smirking. "Better?"
"Much," she breathed, then smirked, herself. Turning, she looped her arms around his neck. "Well, almost. It could be better."
"Oh?"
"Mm-hmm..." His hands slid around her waist, and she leaned up to kiss him. "Why don't we go upstairs and discuss it. At length."
Fandom: The Losers (film)/A-Team (film)
Characters: Jenna Jensen/Hannibal Smith
Word Count: 745
Rating: R
Summary: There's a heat wave on. Oh baby. Featuring creative use of ice cubes.
A/N: Written for
kink_bingo prompt "Sensation Play"It was the middle of freaking September, but the heat wave didn't know that. Leslie's mom had volunteered to take the kids at school for a couple hours, which was good, since that was when he chose to stop by.
Jenna Jensen was already dripping sweat down the front of her tank top, fanning herself in the shade. Hot hands on her already hot body was a less than welcome addition, even if they were his hands, until she felt the ice cube skating over her collarbone.
"What are you up to?" she murmured, leaning her head back against him and closing her eyes. He chuckled, but if there was any clue in his expression she missed it.
His mouth tasted of cigar smoke and salt. Too much sweat, or salt in his breakfast, hell, she didn't know. She knew that when his tongue teased over and between her lips she would open her mouth for him, and she knew that even afterwards she probably wouldn't complain about the taste of that damn cigar. It was, like so many little things, uniquely him.
He rolled up her shirt, sweat-soaked and sticking to her skin, up under her arms and stopped when it was rucked up over the tops of her breasts. She meant to ask what he was doing, then shut up and waited impatiently for it when the general thrust of his intentions was made clearer. What with the other ice cubes rolling down the sides of her breasts. Coming up from under and over taut, peaked nipples. It not only felt cooling, it felt really, really good. And he paused there, one hand cupping the ice cube against her breast while he used the other hand to work her shirt up over her arm, then the other side. Every now and then she could hear, this time, his hand rattling in what sounded like a small bucket of ice cubes. How long did he plan on going on with this? Whatever, it didn't matter, as long as he kept touching her like that.
"What heat wave," she murmured.
By now his hands were cool and damp from the ice cubes, and when he slipped them down the back of her pants to roll them down her hips the contrast was far more welcome than the heat, earlier. She felt the weight and warmth of him leave her back as he stopped leaning over her shoulder, then the softness of his lips on the back of her shoulder. And down her spine. He had soft lips for someone who spent probably as much time on a windy helicopter or transport or something as he did.
And as the sweat dried on her bare skin it seemed like she was getting cooler, in contrast with the heat starting between her legs. That had nothing to do with hot weather and everything to do with how slowly and carefully he was moving, hands and mouth down her body, over her hips. She had no idea what he had in mind and she didn't want to move an inch, not for how good this was. She didn't even lift her head back up.
His fingers traveled along and up the inside of her thigh, and she didn't even hear the rattle of the ice in the bucket now. She gasped when the sharp sensation and chill started up the inside of her thigh, moaned when the sliver of ice slid through her lips, rocked back on his fingers, hot inside her where there had been freezing cold a second ago. He didn't have to do much to work her up to the breaking point, at least a tiny one. Shuddering, she felt his fingers on, in her body and felt the little sparks of climax, sharp pulses of pleasure. She felt her shoulders pressing into his chest when she arched, felt the cold air over her breasts.
And then, when things settled down again, she felt herself warming up again. As things seemed to equalize she came aware of the fact that it hadn't actually cooled down, it just felt that way.
He kissed her shoulder; she knew he was smirking. "Better?"
"Much," she breathed, then smirked, herself. Turning, she looped her arms around his neck. "Well, almost. It could be better."
"Oh?"
"Mm-hmm..." His hands slid around her waist, and she leaned up to kiss him. "Why don't we go upstairs and discuss it. At length."