melodywilde (melodywilde) wrote in kinkfest, @ 2007-09-16 11:26:00 |
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Entry tags: | a: melodywilde, f: dresden files, p: harry/murphy, september 16 |
Wanting, Dresden Files (TV—Harry/Murphy)
Title: Wanting
Author: melodywilde
Rating: R
Warnings: Voyeurism, m/f sex
Word count: 1,621
Summary: Murphy needs, Bob wants, and Harry is confused.
September 16, #25, The Dresden Files (TV), Harry/Murphy (watched by Bob) – voyeurism – “unable to ease this ache inside”
Wanting
by Melody Wilde
“Dresden!”
Harry Dresden poked his head out of the kitchen, a welcoming grin on his face. “Back here, Murphy.” Her footsteps were quick, firm, as she crossed the office toward his living quarters. “You’re just in time for...” The grin faded as she rounded the corner and he saw the expression on her face. “Uh oh.”
Tossing the potholder carelessly behind him, he met her halfway and placed a hand on her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
“There was... It was...” Her mouth twisted. “Dammit, Harry, I’m a cop. I should be used to...this kind of thing by now.”
“Hey hey hey.” He moved closer, let his hand slide up to the back of her neck, and began to flex his fingers, kneading, trying to sneak in a little healing energy. “The day you get used to the kind of crap you have to face is the day you’ll stop being you.”
She nodded. Her eyes were filling with tears. If she blinked, they would shower down her cheeks.
She didn’t blink.
“Want to talk about it?”
“There was a little girl. A little girl. She...” She shook her head. “No.”
“Okay. Then...want some spaghetti? I just finished it up.”
She shuddered. “Food...oh god no.”
“Tea?”
“Harry, what I want...what I need right now...”
She closed the distance between them and let her head drop onto his shoulder. He brought his other arm around her and hugged her tightly.
“Harry?”
“Yeah?”
“I want you to fuck me.”
He started and tried to pull away, but she grabbed a handful of his sweatshirt and hung on.
“Geez, Murph.” He tried to laugh past the sudden thickness in his throat. “I didn’t think you even knew that word.”
“Please.”
“Murphy...”
“Please, Harry, please. Take me upstairs and fuck me hard. Fuck me so hard I can’t see... Please.”
“This is a really really bad idea.” But his body was insisting that it was a really really good idea. “You’re going to regret this in the morning. Or this afternoon. Or...”
“My problem.” She dragged his head down into a kiss that set every nerve in his body tingling...and all without the benefit of magic.
When she let go, all he could do was nod. He barely had the presence of mind to throw a quick spell locking the door to the office and setting the wards in place.
***
“I think I’ve determined where we’ve been going wrong with that...” Bob’s voice trailed away at the sight of the empty kitchen. “Harry, your dinner’s going cold.”
No response. He walked into the living room, then the office. “Harry?”
And then he heard the sounds coming from the loft.
His eyes widened. So Harry is entertaining. Odd. And undoubtedly unexpected. He always orders me back into my skull when he has a guest of this sort. It might be interesting to see who has made him so distracted.
He smiled. And it might be even more interesting to watch.
Making himself as insubstantial as possible and blending with the shadows, he moved up the stairs, cautious, ready to retreat and plead innocence should either Harry or the unknown partner notice him.
Halfway up, he was able to see what was going on, and he realized that Harry was, in all probability, incapable of noticing anything.
Lt. Murphy. His eyebrows rose. Well, well. I would never have suspected this of her.
He settled, close enough to have an excellent view of the proceedings but far enough to escape a casual glance, and prepared to enjoy the show. It had been a very long time for him.
Murphy was standing by the bed, down to her bra and knickers—and I never would have expected the redoubtable Lieutenant to wear such lacy underthings. Harry was sitting on the bed, staring at her, the expression on his face... Much the same as I expect is on my face at this moment. The lady is quite lovely. Much more well-endowed than her usual choice of clothing would suggest.
She reached behind her and unfastened the bra, letting it slide down her arms. Almost instantly, Harry leaned forward to take a nipple into his mouth. From the way she arched—and the way the other nipple sprang erect—it was obvious that Harry was putting his tongue to good use.
Bob’s soft moan was eclipsed by hers.
“Harry.” She pulled free, stepping back to strip away her knickers, then bending to grab the tail of Harry’s sweatshirt and tug it upward. Bob seized the moment—when Harry’s face was covered by the cloth—to crane his neck to the side for a better look.
“Exquisite.” The word was no more than an exhalation of non-breath.
He ducked away as Harry stood, only daring to look again when he heard the creak of the bedsprings. Harry’s back was to him, but he wasted no time on the sight of the wizard’s naked backside. His attention was all for her.
Murphy was on her back, legs open, one knee bent almost as if to give him a better look. And he looked. The shape of her legs, the soft curve of stomach, the dark curls between her legs. He looked. And he yearned. And he wanted—dear God how he wanted, wanted with an ache that was almost a physical pain. His mind...his heart...his soul responded. But his damned and doomed spirit—all that was left of him—was incapable of doing more.
Harry was fumbling with a foil packet. At least he has enough presence of mind to use a condom. Clumsy, Harry, clumsy. But it gives me more time to...
“Got it.” With a nervous grin, Harry put a knee on the bed. Murphy gave a groan of pleasure when he settled on top of her. Her hips bucked up, accepting him, urging him deeper. She wrapped a leg—a long beautiful leg—around his thighs and whispered, “Yes, yes, yes.”
Bob felt very much like uttering the same words. It was torture to watch this—the way Harry’s body was moving, the way her head was tossing from side to side—but he found he was unable to look away. It was fast and urgent and the need...dear God, the need...was so strong it almost swept him away.
If only I could at least touch myself. If only I could feel, just for a moment. This is part of my curse—to be unable to do anything—anything—to ease this ache inside.
And then Murphy threw her head back and cried out—a sound of pleasure and completion. Harry shuddered, then went limp on top of her.
Ever the gentleman, Harry. Dropping your not-inconsiderable weight on a woman who has just given herself to you. He shook his head.
“Murph?”
As if he’d heard Bob’s chiding words, Harry began to lift himself, shifting to the side. Without thought, Bob sank through the steps and out of sight. When they come down, I shall be back in the lab. I saw nothing. Heard nothing. Know nothing. But oh how I wish...I wish...
At least a spirit had the ability to weep.
***
Almost the second he moved, Murphy jerked free and slid from the bed, reaching blindly for her clothes. Harry blinked.
“No post-coital cuddling?” He tried to make his tone light. “Not even a cigarette?”
She gave him a look that silenced him. He pulled the sheet up to cover himself, feeling suddenly vulnerable. She was dressing quickly, donning the clothing as fast as she had shed it earlier.
“Your blouse is buttoned crooked.”
She nodded and redid the buttons, then shoved her feet into her shoes and reached for her purse.
“Murphy...”
She turned her back to him. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anybody about this.”
“I’ll carry the secret to my grave.”
“And let’s not talk about it. Ever.”
“Never happened.”
She let out a deep sigh. “Thank you, Harry.”
And then she was gone, in a clatter of footsteps on the stairs and the distant slam of the front door.
“What just happened here, Murphy?” There was, of course, no answer.
Harry removed the condom and tossed it into the trash, made a pretense of straightening the bed, then pulled on his clothes and went downstairs. The pasta had turned into a congealed mess in the bottom of the colander, and the sauce had gone cold. He shook his head and lit the fire to warm his dinner, thankful that at least he hadn’t had garlic bread to burn.
A memory made him go still. “Bob.” It had all happened so fast...he hadn’t had time to think...
“Bob?”
When there was no reply, he stalked into the living room, peered out into his office, and, finally, opened the door to his lab. The air was thick with golden symbols, stretching across the room. Bob turned at his entrance.
“Ah, there you are, Harry. I think I’ve determined where we’ve been going wrong with this formula. If you’ll look over hre...” He gestured. “This was all that was lacking.”
“Bob, how long have you been here?”
“’Here’ as in ‘on this earth’, ‘here’ as in ‘awake today’, or ‘here’ as in ‘working on your thrice-damned spell’?”
“In the lab. Working.”
Bob rolled his eyes. “It seems like forever.”
“You didn’t...um...come out at all?”
“Should I have?” His face lit. “Have I missed something important? A new client, perhaps? One with long legs and a tight, round—”
“Okay, okay.” Harry waved a hand to silence him. “Never mind. Just...get on with what you were doing.”
“Of course.” Bob inclined his head and smiled. Somehow, it seemed like a sad smile. “As always, Harry. As always.”