A/N: Based on a random thought mentioned by Katica Locke about what fangirls might do to either Reese or Finch if only given the opportunity…
Also, I have a sneaking suspicion that the Northeast Blackout of 2003 might have been caused by the Machine – too great a power drain when it went online, perhaps…
WARNING: Smut ahead!
They were investigating a new Number – a software engineer – who seemed (as Reese teased) almost as paranoid as Finch himself. The young man was using firewalls that impressed even Finch and, more problematically, would not allow him to hack into the system from a remote location. The only solution was to go on-site and plug in a decryption algorithm to gain access, then meticulously cover their tracks. That was the software side of the issue; Reese was escorting Finch up to the penthouse suite of the regenerated-chic apartment building where their Number lived. It was not easy to bypass the security systems to gain physical access, either.
Reese had had to cause a distraction out on the street to keep the security guard’s attention long enough for Finch to set up a feedback loop on the key cameras. Once that was done, they were able to slip into the elevator and head up to the top floor.
“I need to look up the management of this building,” Finch muttered, leaning against one back corner. “With security this tight, I wouldn’t mind living in one of these places myself…”
“But not impenetrable,” Reese pointed out.
“No… but then again, we’re getting quite good at this sort of thing,” was Finch’s dry response.
Reese was about to say something else when their smooth ride came to a sudden halt, almost jerking them off of their feet, and the lights went out.
“What the hell?” Finch gasped, clutching the handrail behind him. “Did the guard catch on to us?”
“Why would he turn out the lights?” Reese said calmly as he tried pressing the buttons. “If he wanted to stop us, all he needed to do was use the emergency stop. Look, even the panel here has gone dark. I’m thinking it’s a power outage.”
“A blackout?” Finch asked, sounding somewhat panicked. “What do we do now? We can’t very well pull the alarm and ask the guard to come rescue us – he’d know right away that we don’t belong here.”
“Don’t worry, I can get us out of here… but here’s something interesting,” Reese told him, holding up his cell phone, which was the only source of light at the moment. “I can’t get a signal. I had four bars a minute ago in the hallway, so it’s not because we’re inside the building. I’m guessing the towers are out, too. This might be a more widespread issue – in which case we’ve got a bigger problem.”
“You mean like the cascading failure of 2003?” Finch cried, now sounding definitely panicked. “That was a total nightmare! I had to reboot everything, try to salvage lost data… days of work lost in an instant…”
“Relax, Harold,” Reese soothed, setting his cell phone on the handrail to shed some light in the small space and moving closer to Finch. “It’s all right. I can get us out of here and back to the library. Even if there’s looting and rioting going on in the streets, I can keep you safe. Trust me.”
Finch was more startled than comforted when Reese placed both of his hands on his shoulders, and his last words made him stare, wide-eyed with concern, at the taller man.
“Looting? Riots?” he echoed. “We can’t go back through all that! What if someone sees us, a-and follows us into the library? What if they break into the library while we’re not there and find my equipment? This is a disaster! We have to get back at once… But how on earth will we make it through all that chaos?”
“Harold… Harold, listen to me,” Reese repeated. “It will be all right. Everything will be all right. The looters aren’t going to break into a library – there’s nothing valuable there. Not by their standards, anyway. And even if they do, it’s unlikely that they’ll get up to your office, and even if they do find your computers, they would just take them apart and try to sell them to the pawn shops. It’s not like they would know how to use the computers to access the Machine, right? Hell, even I don’t know the password! So the important thing is to get out of here, and stay safe, and lay low until we can regroup. I need you to focus, Harold. Just focus on staying calm. We’ll be all right, I promise.”
“Yes… Yes, of course… I-I just need to be calm. Yes, I know, of course I’m calm,” Finch rambled, his hands shaking uncontrollably.
Reese decided that holding his shoulders was not enough, even though on a previous occasion – after Finch had witnessed one of their Numbers being killed in a car bomb – a single touch had been sufficient to help him pull himself together. Stepping even closer to the trembling man, Reese slid both of his hands behind Finch’s back, wrapping him in his arms and pulling him close against his chest.
“It’s all right, Harold… You’re all right. Nothing can hurt you while I’m with you,” he murmured into Finch’s hair.
“M-Mr. Reese?” Finch said querulously, his voice at least an octave higher than usual.
“Just breathe, Harold… Take deep, slow breaths… In, and out… In, and out…”
Finch tried his best to follow Reese’s coaching, but now his body was getting excited for an entirely different reason. He had long dreamed of what it might be like to be held in the taller man’s embrace, and now here he was, his nose pressed against Reese’s throat where it was exposed between his unbuttoned shirt collar, inhaling the intoxicating scent of the other man’s skin. He had stopped trembling, the problem of the power outage pushed far back into the recesses of his mind, but now his face felt as though it were on fire. Luckily, there was not much light in the small metal carriage to see by; however, he could feel Reese shifting and moving even closer…
“Well, Harold… I’m glad to know that I haven’t lost my touch yet,” Reese smirked as his thigh came into contact with Finch’s protruding erection. Finch wished the bottom of the elevator would fall out, just beneath him, so he could escape from his burning shame. “I haven’t had that effect on anyone in a long time, so I was beginning to wonder…”
“Mr. Reese, I h-highly doubt that you have any insecurities about y-your… attractiveness,” Finch stammered, raising his arms in a defensive gesture and trying (in vain) to back away – he was already backed against the walls of the elevator as far as he could go.
“That’s not necessarily true,” Reese countered, lowering his hands along Finch’s spine and not backing off an inch. “I hadn’t gotten a ‘rise’ out of you in all these months… except maybe an eyebrow here and there, which doesn’t count. I was beginning to worry if… I’d gotten too old to be… desirable.”
Finch felt his mouth go completely dry as Reese pressed their bodies together and he realized that the solid mass poking him in the gut was Reese’s own erection. Reese’s lips were ghosting their way down Finch’s forehead, making the older man dizzy, disoriented, and almost sick with desire. He’d forgotten how to breathe again by the time Reese finally kissed him on the mouth, prodding his lips apart with his strong tongue and demanding access, so it was a good thing that Reese was capable of inhaling enough oxygen for the both of them.
Finch’s legs quaked, his knees going weak and rubbery as his brain became unable to process any information other than the fact that Reese was kissing him – his tongue tasting every nook and cranny in his mouth, playfully teasing Finch’s tongue to join in the fun. Reese strengthened his grip on Finch’s torso to hold him up, then gave up on his paralyzed tongue to start kissing and licking the side of his face, nuzzling the sideburn with the tip of his nose. Finch gasped, trembling again.
“You taste… delicious, Harold,” Reese murmured into his ear, sending shivers of sound both up into his brain and down into his cock. “I’ve been wondering for a long time now… what you would taste like…”
Finch attempted to reply, but all he could manage was an incoherent squeak. Smiling, Reese continued kissing down Finch’s jaw line to his throat, practically devouring what little of it was exposed above his tie. At the same time, his hands moved to Finch’s front and began unbuckling his belt, then unzipping the fly of his trousers. Finch grabbed on to Reese’s strong shoulders with his shaking hands, having lost the support from the other man’s arms and needing something other than just his legs to hold himself up.
“Such a nice… manly piece of wood,” Reese said in a low tone, almost a growl, making the male organ in question grow even harder. Freed of its restraints, it was able to reach its maximum girth and length, straightening out in Reese’s hands. “I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this from me for so long… But I think we can forego the formal introductions, don’t you? Let’s just get down to business…”
And so saying, Reese knelt on the floor at Finch’s feet, his hands never leaving Finch’s cock as they lovingly caressed and stroked it, bringing out a bead of pre-come at its tip. Reese bent his head down to lick the tiny droplet with the tip of his tongue, which he then swirled around the wrinkled border separating the glans from the shaft. Finch moaned with pleasure, shifting his grip from Reese’s shoulders (which had moved almost out of his reach) to the handrails behind him, unconsciously bucking his hips in his instinctive desire for more – more of that warm, wet, enveloping sensation. To his relief, Reese seemed all too happy to provide it, swallowing most of his length into his mouth, until the tip hit the back of his throat.
“OH! Ohhh… Oh, John… so good… ohhh…” Finch whimpered as the other man used his tongue, lips, and even teeth to drive him to the edge of ecstasy. Reese pulled up on his shaft with both hands, urging on his climax, then took the head back into his mouth and slid his hands below and behind to massage his balls. They drew up and tensed as Reese’s tongue incessantly rubbed the throbbing vein on the underside of the shaft, and when Reese groaned in anticipation – sending shockwaves of pleasure vibrating through his organ – Finch’s whole body grew as taut as a bowstring and shot out his liquid arrows of love into his partner’s welcoming orifice. Reese expertly allowed most of the fluid to slide down his esophagus into his stomach, but withdrew just enough on the last spurt to catch it on his tongue, and savored the bittersweet flavor of Finch’s passion.
“You really do taste delicious, Harold,” he whispered, his voice hoarse after enduring the friction of Finch’s cock against his throat; however, Reese was nearly as satisfied as his new-found lover. His own cock had been trapped inside of a cup, but when Finch had ejaculated, it had also released its payload into the protective gear. Perhaps not as satisfying a finish as could be hoped for, but Reese did hope for more – now that he had gotten Finch to admit his attraction to him, and had proven how willing and skillful a lover he could be, he hoped that his “very private” employer could be persuaded to engage in more activities of this nature, and in more conducive settings as well.
With an affectionate, parting kiss on Finch’s deflating cock, Reese tucked it back inside and adjusted the man’s clothes. Then, standing up, he placed a tender kiss on Finch’s forehead for good measure.
“I’m going to climb out of here from the access panel in the ceiling, then I’ll find a crowbar or something to pry the doors open with. Just sit tight and I’ll get you out of here in a jiffy,” he promised.
“Ah… okay…” Finch responded, his eyes still glazed over from what had just transpired.
“Okay,” Reese grinned. “Don’t go anywhere, Harold… I’m not done with you yet! Not by a long shot…”
Finch stared vacantly after him as he stood on the handrails at the other corner of the elevator and knocked out an overhead panel. He continued to stare as Reese’s long legs disappeared through the square hole he had created.
“Don’t dawdle,” Finch mumbled to himself, then smiled at his own, private little joke.