stock: typewriter

fic:early morning insults/BtVS,Blade/Het

Title: early morning insults
Word Count: 1050
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Blade: Trinity
Prompt: #352 shameless @ tamingthemuse
Warning: strong language, nudity
Rating: FR18
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all related characters are copyright of Joss Whedon and ME. Blade: Trinity and all related characters are copyright of David S. Goyer, New Line and Marvel. No infringement intended.

Note: Sequel to Screaming Trouble.

The scent of coffee beans being ground woke her or, perhaps more precisely, the sound of the grinder pulverizing them was a bit more accurate when it came to what actually woke her, but the smell was intoxicating nonetheless. Buffy rolled onto her side, away from the sun streaming in through the blinds and towards the small kitchenette area in Hannibal’s living quarters. The previous night’s attire of leather and cotton was strewn across the room and she was distracted by the sight of her bra hanging from a light fixture for a moment before searching out her bed partner.

He was currently puttering around the kitchen, completely nude and utterly shameless about it, making them some semblance of breakfast. She knew it was a semblance and not the real thing since Hannibal’s version tended to run towards the untoasted bagel and, preferably black, coffee variety. Buffy preferred her cream and sugar with a dash of coffee—thanksverymuch—and, to be fair, Hannibal usually complied with only slight grumbles about her ruining good coffee.

Those grumbles were lies really because the one time she’d forced froufrou Starbucks on him he might’ve mentioned something about growing tits and having to call himself Polly-Fuckin’-Anna afterwards, but he had drank nearly half before handing back to her. She knew his weaknesses, and exploited them to her full advantage when given the chance, and Hannibal had a sweet tooth that rivaled Zoe’s and put Buffy’s random cravings for peanut butter fudge to shame. He also had the nicest ass she’d seen in recent years and since it was on display as he readied the coffeemaker Buffy sat up to get a better view.

Folding her legs beneath her and allowing the sheet to pool around her waist, freeing her breasts to the cool morning air and Hannibal’s perusal once he noticed she was awake, Buffy simply enjoyed the show. His back stretched as he retrieved a liner from the cupboard and proceeded to fill it with the grinds he’d woken her up for to create before dropping it into the maker. He added water, hit a button and turned around, brown eyes widening before they dipped and Buffy knew he was staring at her chest as the corner of his mouth quirked inward.

“Come’re, sugar tits.” Green eyes narrowed and his mouth stretched into a knowing grin as he questioned, “Not a term of endearment?”

“No,” her voice dipped in pitch, from both the early hour and her annoyance.

He made his way forward and Buffy found her gaze dipping from his face to his chest and then lower until she found herself distracted by the tattoo just above the quickest way to shut his trap as he continued, “So we’ll add that to the list then.” Buffy’s gaze shot up, ignoring his knowing smirk because she knew where this conversation was headed as he added, “What were the others?”

She rose, coming to her knees and letting the sheet fall completely away from her as Hannibal carried on, his voice somehow conversational as he questioned, “Thunder-cunt? Little bitch? Boo boo kitty fuck? Cock-muppet—”

“Nuh-huh,” Buffy countered, interrupting him and arguing, “That one’s mine for you.”

He winked and instantly retorted, “Right, yours is cock-muncher.” He leaned in, dropping his voice to a whisper, “Thanks for the clarification.”

Buffy turned her face into his, let her breath tickle his cheek as she stated, “One of these days you’re going to earn yourself a swift punch to the dick.”

“Oh,” he moaned, “I love it when you talk dirty,” he turned his head, putting their faces only inches apart and his gaze settled on her mouth as he finished, “But we both know that’s a lie. You love my dick.”

Her jaw thrust forward, teeth clenching and Hannibal knocked his nose against hers, forcing her head to tilt as he stole a kiss and left her muttering the waspish retort against his mouth. She felt it quirk before his arms wrapped around her back, callused palms settling against her sleep warmed skin as he dragged her free of the bed. The sheet tangled with her legs and left her laughing as she kicked them away and pulled back enough to gasp, “You suck at romance.”

“Fair enough,” he countered before capturing her bottom lip in between his teeth and giving a none too gentle tug that acted as a cord to parts deeper inside her. He left her lip to trail nipping teeth across her jaw before pausing where it met with her throat and breathed against her skin, “But you have to admit. I give head like a champ.”

A surprised laugh escaped her as Buffy marched her fingers up the solid muscle that was his biceps and he returned to gently biting at her skin. She reached his shoulders and hummed when he hit a particularly nice spot and the coffeemaker beeped, startling her Casanova, and he jerked back, skull cracking the side of her face and sending her back to the bed and rumpled sheets.

He stared down at her, stunned a moment, before the laughter erupted and she was left clutching her sides as his mouth turned in at the corners. A hand rose, fingers scratching lightly at his beard as he watched her, and it took a moment for the giggles to subside and she reached out a hand to him. He accepted and she tugged him down beside her, curling her body into and nearly on top of his.

His fingers began to trace a familiar pattern against the skin on her hip and she played with the light sprinkling of chest hair beneath her cheek. Content smothered any response she had for his sudden abuse of her face and instead she welcomed the bit of quiet, rarely found in a life with Hannibal, and simply enjoyed the moment. Fingers playing over his chest until she found a nipple and lightly scratched a nail against it until she felt his body tighten and the tracing fingers became a possessive grip on her hip.

“Coffee’s getting cold.”

The rumble in his voice made her smile, “Let it.”

“Well then, fuck me, please.”

“Was that a request or an order? You know how I feel about orders.”

“Little of both?”

The end.
*flails a little* As much as I would have loved to see the Walking Dead one we had talked about earlier, I absolutely LOVE this one. Love their easiness together and all of the 'pet names'. And I love when the smexy stuff has a hiccup in the form of elbows in wrong places and whatnot, cause let's face it, that happens more that what we'd like to admit. ;)

And hey! 16 weeks for you! *flails some more*
I think this week shall be the Walking Dead so lets see how that pans out. :) Thank you! They played well off one another, didn't they? I think I had a little too much fun with the pet names though. Whoops? The sweaty can be interrupted by things, but the ones that amuse are always best.

Are you on 14? Go us!!!