Chapter Text
-Can we talk?
Dex was in his apartment, having slid down the wall because the FBI had forced him into a vacation, saying he was working himself to death.
But he felt useless.
So he texted you.
He would've called but didn't know if you were busy.
Anxiety went up, and up, and up.
Until-
-Of course! Is everything okay? :)
Dex smiled like he just saw the sun after a week of rain.
All because of you.
-I feel so empty. The FBI have told me that I need a break, so I'm on paid vacation. I don't know what to do.
The screen was tapped in an almost jittery manner, his wrists trembling with the effort to stay calm.
After a few moments you finally replied.
-It's okay, Dex. We can spend some more time together if you'd like.
-Yes.
Dex cursed himself for answering so quickly, he probably looked desperate for your attention, which he absolutely was, but still didn't want to lose you.
He couldn't lose you.
-Then it's settled. Would you like to come over tomorrow? We can cook together.
Cooking.
With you.
A contained environment, your gentle hands being used to sustain him, even for a night.
You had no idea that your existence already sustained him.
His breath shuddered and he curled protectively around the phone, thumbs stroking the sides of the screen.
-I would really like that. Thank you, sweetheart.
A pause, Dex's eyes wide and unblinking as they gazed at your precious messages, waiting for a response.
-Anytime, Dex. I can't wait to see you again. Try and get some sleep. <3
Obediently, his eyes still on your little heart, he went to lie down, still in his work clothes, and gazed at the note he took from your apartment.
The phone laid on his chest and he traced the :) you had drawn with a fingertip, feeling the memory of your soft skin against his own.
Dark hazel eyes turned upwards and he could almost see you looking down at him, propped up on an elbow and leaning down to press a kiss to his lips.
A blessing.
From his goddess.
Simple kisses and embraces from you were enough to feed his soul more than food ever could.
North Stars, so precious yet so rare, never gave him this before.
This satisfaction.
This… want.
For the first time in his life, Benjamin Poindexter felt greedy for you and you alone.
And he didn't feel bad about it.
He never would.
~
"Let me."
"Ah, does your precision affect cutting onions, too?"
"I don't want to see you cry because of them."
Your teasing smile faltered a bit at the sweet comment even though Dex didn't react in the slightest, nudging you out of the way and indeed using his precision against those pesky onions.
Those intense eyes were focused intently on those onions and he was chopping and dicing perfectly until-
Two arms, your gentle arms, wrapped around his waist from the back and he felt your cheek against the back of his shoulder, causing him to freeze in place.
He still wasn't used to such casual contact but any touch from you both soothed and shocked him. A hand reached down and touched one of yours, rough fingertips drifting over your knuckles once before he returned to chopping.
Dex expected you to go, to prep something else, but you remained behind him, simply holding yourself to him, being his anchor.
It felt good to be wanted.
To be held against another.
Held against you. You against him.
Leaving with a small kiss to his shoulder, you went over and started to prep the spaghetti, carefully placing it within the pot of water and starting on the sauce.
Such a busy bee you were.
Just like at that convenience store.
A week ago he had come in and did his routine, six bottled waters, six eggs, two protein bars.
And a kiss.
The kiss was new.
Usually Dex despised new things that interfered with his schedule.
But a kiss from his North Star had become a very welcome change.
"Just pop them in the pan and I'll add the garlic. This will taste perfect." You nodded in approval when he came over, using the knife to slowly toss the onions within the sizzling oil.
"Have you made this before?"
Please. More information about you.
Anything.
"I have! Jacqueline of all trades, you know? At least I try to be." You laughed at yourself and mixed the ingredients together, the kitchen starting to smell delicious. "Do you cook actual food at your apartment? Or does being an agent mess with that?"
His gaze darkened and the jaw clenched subtly at the mention of the FBI, of his agent status. He wasn't angry, not at you anyway. He needed that job to keep him focused when he couldn't have you 24/7.
"I try to. Most of the time, when we're guarding high profiles, I have to eat takeout a lot. It's unhealthy but an easy way to get protein." So clipped, so clinical.
Any other woman would've glanced sideways in wariness.
But not you.
"I understand. As long as you try, that's always good." The sauce was bubbling now as you placed more spices and ingredients in, turning the stove down and turning to Dex with a smile.
"Wan-"
"Can I hold you? On the couch?"
He didn't mean to interrupt you. Oh no. No, no. He interrupted you.
"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt- that was rude of-"
"Dex, calm down. I was just about to offer that. I was literally about to say 'want to cuddle for a bit'." You weren't lying. He was trained to see when people were lying, notice their pulse spike in their neck.
But you weren't.
Perhaps you two had spent so much time together already that you were thinking the same things.
"Come on, the couch is waiting…" You teased in a singsong and offered your hand, which he took almost immediately.
He didn't hold you like he usually did, where he'd hug you close with one arm. This was tender, holding your head to his chest and subtly curling around you protectively.
From the slight nuzzle of your head, he assumed he was doing something right.
Dex's heartbeat was exactly like him.
Calm, measured, predictable.
As predictable as a man like him could be for a woman like you.
But while you were enjoying the simple beat of his heart, Dex's mind was going a mile a minute.
He wasn't blind.
He could tell that his body needed to be close to yours, holding, kissing, touching.
But he was wrestling with feelings he wasn't sure of. Feelings that could lead to bliss or blasphemy.
Sure, he was a man. And when a man met a woman he found attractive, things would usually lead to other things.
Intense things.
He had done it before. Mechanically. He felt pleasure but didn't know how to reign it in. His emotions were already at their highest peak and losing control, even for a few seconds, was enough to make Dex hesitant on ever doing it again.
His biggest fear was hurting you.
Gripping you too tight.
Accidentally pulling your hair, fingers, maybe nails, in your scalp.
If he ever made you cry, in pain or in sadness- Dex honestly would consider drastic measures against his own life.
But then he looked down at you, how you rested against him so naturally while the spaghetti and the sauce bubbled in the background, cheek unconsciously rubbing against his shirt in time with the beat of his heart.
He could do it for you.
He could try.
And just like you said:
*As long as you try, that's always good.*