Work Text:
“Oh my god.”
Vanessa suddenly sat up from where she’d been curled into Mike’s side on the couch. The blanket that was draped over both of them slipped from her shoulders with the movement, and her face was twisted in a mix of shock and mild disgust. Mike looked up from the document he’d been reading — something work-related that he didn’t particularly care about but needed to look over anyway.
“What?” he asked, blinking at her.
Her eyes met his, wide and serious, and she shoved the blanket onto his lap like it might somehow absorb the heat radiating from him.
“You’re hot,” she said, fanning her face. “It’s making me feel sick.”
He cocked his head, squinting at her like he’d misheard. “Hot? You’ve been fine for like… almost an hour.”
Her fingers dug into the back of her neck, pressing as if she could massage the heat out.
“It just hit me,” she muttered, standing up and stepping away from the couch. She tugged at her shirt, trying to let air in.
Mike leaned back slightly, half-amused and half-curious. “Okay… and what am I supposed to do about that?”
She spun around and glared, like he’d personally adjusted his own body temperature just to mess with her. “I don’t know. It’s just gross,” she replied, dragging out the word like it tasted bitter.
He smiled briefly, shook his head, and returned to the pages in his hand, pen clicking between his fingers. “Alright. Just let me know when I’m not gross anymore.”
She shook her head, muttered something under her breath about him not being helpful, then padded into the kitchen with a loud, exasperated sigh.
“I need a minute.”
He nodded absently, mumbled a quiet ‘mhm’ and went back to reading. He didn’t notice her moving around the kitchen, didn't notice how much time passed by, didn’t even notice when she silently slipped back into the living room.
Then, out of nowhere, a sharp sting pressed against the back of his neck, painfully cold, making him hiss and drop the folder. He reached behind him instinctively, rubbing at the unexpected chill.
“What the— Vanessa?” He whipped around, eyes wide and shocked to see her standing there, perfectly calm, holding a single piece of ice between her fingers.
“What?” she asked, head tilted. That same, confused expression she always wore when she knew exactly what she was doing played on her face.
He stared at her. “You just— why?”
She only shrugged, lips pursed, and walked around the couch again, plopping back down next to him. “You’re hot. Thought it might help.”
He scoffed, shaking his head, still staring at her in disbelief. “I didn’t even hear you come back.”
“That’s on you.”
He caught the faint smirk she was trying to hide and let her take his arm, turning it over so she could press the ice to his forearm. He winced, teeth clenched at the cold burn until she pulled it away again.
She shifted slightly closer, just a fraction at first, leaning casually against him. Her fingers danced lightly over his arm, delicate and gentle, as if she were studying something.
“Can I try something?”
The question came out quiet, curious, harmless enough — until she tilted her head, let her nails ghost over his skin, eyes locking on his in that way that always made his brain go quiet. He was nodding before he even replied. “I guess…”
She smiled, and without any sudden motion, rested her hands on his shoulders and eased herself into his lap, settling comfortably like she’d always belonged there – which she did, they both knew that much.
She immediately felt how he froze. His posture went stiff, breath hitching just slightly as he looked down at his lap. His hands hovered awkwardly at her sides, like he wasn’t sure where they were allowed to go or what to do with them.
“Relax,” she murmured. “You act like I’ve never been in your lap before.”
He swallowed, eyes flicking to her face. “…Right… yeah.”
She let out a small hum, leaning back slightly. Her fingers twirled the ice cube between them, then pressed it lightly against his upper arm, right below the hem of his sleeve.
Every nerve in his arm tingled at the cold. His eyes followed her fingers, sharp and aware, and his hands finally settled on the outside of her thighs like he’d finally remembered that he had hands.
She pulled the ice away, thumb brushing idly over the tiny wet spot it left. She tilted her head then, a smirk forming on her lips. “You’re very still,” she commented.
He let out a breathy laugh. “You’re… sitting on me.”
“I am,” she said, clearly pleased, shifting slightly closer so that the warmth of her legs pressed against his more firmly. He cleared his throat, hands flexing instinctively on her thighs, fully aware of her, of the way she moved, of every single touch.
“You did that on purpose,” he mumbled.
“Did what?” she asked innocently.
“Moved.”
“And?”
He didn’t answer – him saying something in the first place was enough.
After a moment, her fingers drifted higher, brushing along his collarbone in a feather-light line. “You’re still warm here,” she murmured, almost to herself.
He laughed as a shudder ran through him, and shook his head. “You’re very touchy for someone who called me gross five minutes ago.”
She shrugged, thumb brushing over his shirt. “I changed my mind,” she said casually, like it was obvious.
Without another word, she pressed the ice against the side of his neck, just below his jaw. The cold hit him sharply, making his chest rise a little faster, subtle tension threading through him. It stung, crawling along his skin in a way that made him squirm inwardly, but the calm, focused way she moved and watched him kept him from jerking away.
She hummed softly, letting the ice trail slowly along his pulse point. She dragged it upward toward the back of his jaw, and let it rest there for just a moment before pulling it away, noting the faint redness already blooming on his neck.
Before he could say anything, she leaned in, pressing her lips right where the ice had been. She moved downward, lips following the thin trail of water left behind. She was slow about it, agonizingly so, and Mike couldn’t help the way he adjusted under her.
She smiled against his skin, kissing until she reached his pulse point – then leaned back like she hadn’t done anything at all.
He stared at her.
“What?” she asked lightly.
He let out a slow breath, eyes flicking away before finding hers again. “You can’t just—” He stopped, huffed a quiet laugh, and shook his head. “Never mind.”
Her smile widened just a fraction. “It was dripping.”
“Mm,” he said noncommittally, thumbs brushing absentmindedly against her legs. “I wonder why.”
She tilted her head like she was considering his words. Her eyes flicked to where his hands rested. “You’re allowed to move, you know.”
For a second, he didn’t respond. He breathed out through his nose, slow and measured, like he was deciding something.
“I’m aware,” he said easily. His hands shifted just a little — not leaving, not tightening either – just enough to prove the point. “I’m comfortable.”
She didn’t comment, only pressed the ice beneath his jaw on the opposite side. He sucked in a quiet breath before he could stop himself. She traced it lightly along his jaw, then pressed more firmly where his jaw met his neck. He swallowed, trying to keep his breathing even, eyes closing at the sensation he couldn’t quite describe. He exhaled in relief once she finally withdrew it.
“Still comfortable?” she asked.
“Yep,” he said, a beat too quickly. Then, correcting himself, “I mean— yes.” He cleared his throat. “It’s just cold.”
She watched him closely, her thumb brushing away a few stray drops of water rolling down his neck. “I can imagine.”
His gaze flicked briefly to her hand, then away, then back up like he wasn’t sure what to say. A soft, almost inaudible laugh escaped him as his chest rose a little faster. “You’re too quiet.”
“I’m thinking,” she replied. Her thumb lingered at his pulse point for a second longer before pulling away, but she didn’t stop. She picked the ice back up and traced it along the line of his jaw again, starting under his chin and moving toward his ear, then ran it down the line of his neck with more pressure. It was melting more obviously now, and the line of water it left made him shiver.
He cleared his throat, eyes darting anywhere but hers. “Thinking about what?”
“About you,” she said, as if it were no big deal.
His jaw tightened just slightly, and he let out a quiet laugh, almost shy. “What about me?”
She leaned in then, brushing her lips lightly against the corner of his jaw. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she murmured, pressing her lips to his cool skin.
Her teeth grazed gently before she kissed up his jaw, pulling away when she reached the dry part of his chin. Her smile was small, a perfect mix of smug and innocence.
Mike let out a quiet breath, hands still on her thighs, every nerve on edge. Her eyes followed his jawline, thumb brushing carefully where her lips had just been, then pressed the ice cube just under his ear. He stiffened immediately.
Tilting her head, she leaned in slightly, removing the ice and letting her lips brush the spot where it had been. His chest rose faster, and he fought to keep his eyes open.
She pressed a little closer then, mouth covering his earlobe and sucking softly. A quiet, involuntary sigh escaped him.
“Feel good?” she asked sweetly, like she was just checking on him. His hands flexed on her thighs, and she pulled his earlobe back into her mouth then, letting her teeth graze over it this time.
He couldn’t stop the low groan that slipped past his lips. She hummed in satisfaction and cupped the opposite side of his neck, now tracing her tongue along the curve of his jaw. She mixed in soft kisses and grazing teeth until his hands shifted from her thighs to her waist, pulling her closer.
She smiled and moved her lips to his neck, slow and steady, tilting his head with her hand as she pressed warm kisses to his damp skin. She worked her way down to the base of his neck, tugging the collar of his shirt aside before pressing another kiss above his collarbone and sucking gently.
“Vanessa,” he breathed out.
“Mhm?” she murmured into his skin, but she didn’t stop. If anything, she sucked harder, teeth nipping and tongue pressing in a way that made him audibly swallow. When she finally pulled back, she ran her thumb over the deep purple mark she’d left.
“Your shirt will cover that,” she said with a shrug, patting gently where her mouth had been.
He glanced down at the bruise, then back up at her, head tilted like she hadn’t just left a mark that would take at least a week to fade.
He secretly loved it — always loved it — no matter how annoyed he pretended to be. He loved how her eyes lit up at the purple and red spots she littered his skin with, how she always seemed to get carried away when he’d let her.
It was slightly embarrassing, he thought, how he always let her do whatever she wanted to him, how he never complained and was content to let her explore. He couldn’t bring himself to care though — not when she looked at him like he was the most delicate thing in the world and also like she wanted to rip him to shreds. Sometimes it was both mixed together, like she couldn’t figure out how she wanted to handle him, and that was always the most dizzying.
Vanessa tilted her head, resting her temple lightly on his shoulder. Her hand drifted from his neck down his arm, tracing lightly with her nails.
He shifted slightly under her touch, trying not to overthink, hands flexing on her sides without moving them. The weight of her against him and the slow, confident way she moved made his head spin.
Her smirk widened just a bit. She held the ice cube between her fingers again – it was melting steadily now – and pressed it against the inside of his forearm. He flinched but didn’t pull away.
“You like that?” she asked softly, thumb brushing over the damp patch the ice left behind.
“Yeah… I mean… ” he started, breath hitching just a little. “I like that you’re the one doing it.”
“Good,” she whispered, tracing slow circles with the ice down his arm.
She let the ice linger on his wrist for a moment, watching the way his skin flushed under her touch. When it started to melt more, she leaned closer, tilting his hand gently, her thumb brushing over the damp streak.
“Hold still,” she murmured softly.
She brought his arm closer to her mouth, letting her tongue trace the cool, wet path the ice had left. He jerked slightly at the unexpected sensation, breath hitching, but she held him there.
“You’re ridiculous,” he muttered, voice low, half in protest, half something else he didn’t want to admit.
“Maybe,” she said, smirking faintly, lips leaving his skin just long enough to speak. “Or maybe I just like seeing you like this.”
Her tongue met his wrist now, and he felt a whole new rush at actually being able to see her mouth on him. She kissed and let her lips drag over his skin before finally lowering his hand.
“You’re staring.”
“I’m not,” he muttered weakly, though his eyes never left her.
She hummed softly, and brought the last bit of the ice up to his mouth. She traced his bottom lip lightly with it, running it back and forth until the water dripped from his lip.
“Open.”
He blinked, his mind short-circuiting for a moment. Before he could think it through, he parted his lips. She slid the ice in slowly, letting it rest on his tongue for the briefest moment before the chill began to seep through.
He held it there until it melted — not that it took long — and he tried, desperately, to act normal. His chest tightened in ways he didn’t want to think about, fingers flexing unconsciously where they brushed her side.
She hummed softly, thumb brushing his lip where the water had collected. “You always make it so easy,” she murmured, light and teasing.
He opened his mouth to reply, but when she moved her thumb to trace along his jaw, nail scratching gently, the words disappeared back into his throat.
Without thinking, he caught her wrist and tugged. “Vanessa,” he muttered, low and breathy, before realizing how close she was.
“Yeah?” Her voice was infuriatingly casual.
“You—” He faltered, jaw tight, pulse racing, chest pressed against hers in ways that made it impossible to act normal. His fingers flexed where they held her wrist.
She shifted slightly, pressing her hip against him, letting her body drag along his. His hand tightened instantly, fingers curling where they held her.
Her free hand drifted to his jaw again, fingertips grazing lightly along his neck, lips brushing near his ear. A quick, teasing graze of her teeth made him shiver.
“You okay?” she whispered then, breath warm against his ear, sending another shiver through his body. He only nodded and finally let go of her wrist, arms wrapping fully around her.
She smiled, kissing down his jaw and up his cheek, then kissed him on the lips soft and quick.
“You’re very reactive, y’know.”
He laughed a little breathless, and let his hands rub up and down her back in an absent, soothing motion, like he was grounding himself without realizing it. Her tone wasn’t even smug or teasing, just observational.
“Can’t help it,” he admitted, shrugging faintly.
She smiled as her hands slid up to the base of his neck, scratching lightly beneath his hairline. The touch made his shoulders loosen immediately. He let out a quiet breath, eyes closing for half a second before he caught himself. He opened them and met her gaze.
“What made you do that?”
“Do what?” she asked innocently, dragging a fingertip down his collarbone.
“That,” he said, voice tightening just a bit. “The ice. All of it.” His hands moved again on her sides, restless now, thumbs tapping like he couldn’t quite settle.
She paused, actually thinking about it, then shrugged slightly. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “Wanted to make you squirm, I guess.”
He let out a quiet huff, squeezing her hip until she tensed. “And you needed ice?”
She smiled, the corner of her mouth lifting as she leaned in to brush a quick kiss against his cheek. “You never told me to stop.”
He shook his head slowly, a helpless smile pulling at his lips. “That feels unfair.”
“Mm,” she hummed, fingers still at his neck, thumbs pressing lightly like she was checking his pulse. “You could’ve said something.”
“I did,” he said weakly. “Just… not out loud.”
She giggled softly at that, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips — unhurried, easy, like it wasn’t meant to mean much. When she pulled back, she didn’t go far, but the way he followed made her giggle again. “See?” she murmured. “Reactive.”
He groaned quietly, leaning in to steal another kiss. “Because you’re being annoying.”
“Wow,” she said lightly, brushing her thumb along his jaw. “Rude.”
Her thumb traced down just below his ear, barely touching, and his shoulders shifted — subtle but immediate — as if his body noticed before his brain could.
“You’re really sensitive right here,” she commented.
He tilted his head despite himself, giving her easier access without meaning to. “You keep saying things like that,” he muttered, “like you’re not the reason.”
She hummed, amused, and let her fingers linger for a moment before easing back. “I think it’s cute,” she said. “You try so hard not to show it.”
“I’m not trying,” he said. “You’re just very distracting.”
“That’s different,” she replied, smiling, and leaned in to press a soft kiss just below his jaw — not where she’d been touching, just close enough to make the absence noticeable.
He exhaled slowly, hands tightening on her waist.
She pulled back again, studying him with that same quiet curiosity. “See?” she said gently. “You love when I do that.”
Her fingers lingered there, tracing patterns she hadn’t realized were so sensitive. Then her lips followed the same path, brushing along his jaw with soft, teasing attention.
“Mm…” she murmured playfully. “Tell me something.”
He froze for a half-second, pulse spiking. “…What?”
She dragged her lips up toward his ear. “What feels better… this?” she whispered, letting her tongue just barely trace the curve of his ear. “Or this?” she asked, tugging lightly on his earlobe with her teeth.
He shivered, eyes fluttering, caught between curiosity and a little helplessness. “…I… I don’t know,” he admitted, voice low, breath catching.
She hummed approvingly, brushing her nose along his cheek, eyes glinting with mischief. She let her lips brush against his ear one last time before pulling back slightly, playful and casual, giving him that bit of space that made him ache to close it again.
“Think on it then,” she teased, cupping his face. Her thumb rubbed lightly under his eye, traced down his nose, and ended up pressed against his lips. She dragged down his bottom lip and traced it lightly until he caught her thumb between his teeth. He held it there for a moment before finally letting go, and something hungry flickered in her eyes as she leaned in to kiss him.
Her hand stayed cupped around his face, thumb brushing along his cheek, while her other hand threaded into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. His hands held her in place, curving around her back to pull her completely against him.
The kiss deepened subtly, soft and slow, intimate but not urgent. She pulled back just slightly, eyes flicking up to gauge his reaction, a small smile playing on her face.
He exhaled, letting out a quiet laugh against her lips before leaning back in.
It was lazy and deep in a way neither of them wanted to end – lips locked, tongues exploring, soft moans and giggles mixing with every push and pull. It was so intoxicating – the way her mouth led, the soft feeling of her lips, the quiet noises she drew from him without even trying.
For a moment, he felt her lips hesitate, like she was deciding something.
“Mm,” she hummed quietly into his mouth. “You really should get back to work.”
He shook his head, cupping her face and tugging her lips back to his. A low ‘mm mm’ escaped him, making her laugh and kiss him for a bit longer before she carefully pushed him back by his shoulders.
“Mhm,” she said, mocking his tone. “I’m gonna go shower.”
He stared at her, dumbfounded, like she wasn’t the one who started this. “Oh, right. Of course you are.”
She giggled lightly, pecking his lips one last time before slowly sliding off his lap, knees popping as she stood and stretched.
“You can get back to work… or come join me,” she said, playful but soft at the edges, like she didn’t just lay out the most obvious would-you-rather. “Whatever you want.”
She smirked over her shoulder before disappearing down the hall.
He sat there, frozen, staring at his abandoned folder like it held the answers to some impossible question. His hands flexed against his knees, useless, chest tightening again.
He stayed there until he heard the house quietly rumble, the faint sound of running water signaling she’d already started the shower. He waited a beat before sighing and pushing himself off the couch, shaking his head, walking down the hall like that wasn’t exactly what the both of them wanted.