A/N: Reese is determined to celebrate Valentine’s Day with Finch. Definitely a bit OOC.
WARNING: Smut ahead!
When Finch returned from making his morning cup of tea, he saw that Reese had arrived and was sitting in the chair next to his. There was also an enormous vase of flowers on the desk, obscuring his monitors.
“Good morning, Finch,” Reese said before taking a sip of his coffee. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
“What is this?” Finch asked without thinking, indicating the flowers.
“Roses, Finch. Haven’t you heard about them – or read about them?”
“I know what roses are, Mr. Reese. What are they doing on my desk?”
“Blooming. Brightening up this otherwise dreary room. Giving off their lovely scent as a humble offering in homage to your genius and generosity.”
“I see…” Finch carefully set his cup down, considering his response. “Could they perhaps do all that… somewhere else? On the other table, for instance?”
“They’re your roses, Finch – you can do whatever you want with them,” Reese replied, though looking slightly hurt. “I still haven’t figured out what your favorite color is, so I got one of every kind they had.”
“Ah… Thank you, Mr. Reese. That was very thoughtful and… extravagant of you.” Finch picked up the heavy vase and carried it over to the other table, closer to the window. “They certainly are colorful,” he added, not wishing to seem unappreciative of the other man’s gesture; although on this particular day, it seemed rather… awkward. “But for future reference… not that I expect such things, of course… but with roses, I do like these white ones… so pure and… delicate.”
Seeing Finch inhale the fragrance, Reese allowed a smile to curl up the edges of his mouth.
“I got you something else, too, in case you didn’t like roses,” he confessed, pulling out a heart-shaped box from a shopping bag which had been hidden under the desk. It was obviously a box of chocolates, and Finch stopped dead in his tracks. “I know you’re careful about what you eat, but it’s only one day of the year,” Reese said almost apologetically, “and it’s not like you have to eat all of them at once…”
“Ah… yes, of course,” Finch murmured, wondering what the other man was trying to do. He must have a hidden agenda… He might even be using this as a way of loosening my tongue – maybe in the hopes that I’ll let something slip about a past Valentine’s Day…
“Well? Don’t you want to open it?” Reese prodded, eagerly extending the box towards Finch. With much less enthusiasm, Finch accepted it and proceeded to untie the ribbon and unwrap the paper – the very red, heart-patterned paper.
“They look… delicious,” Finch said, forcing a smile onto his lips for a brief moment. Reese beamed and his eyes danced as Finch looked over the assorted candies and chose one.
“I always pegged you as a dark chocolate sort of guy,” Reese told him.
Finch held out the box to him and said, “Please – you have to help me eat them. At least you’ll burn off the calories the next time you go out on a case.”
“Speaking of which, do we have a new Number?” Reese asked as he picked out a chocolate for himself.
“Not at the moment. You may as well spend the day… however you wish. I’ll call when I get the next one,” Finch promised as he settled down in his own chair.
“What about you, Finch? You’ve been working pretty hard lately… You should take a break, too.”
Though somewhat startled at the sincere concern in Reese’s eyes, Finch had to agree – he had been working rather hard the past few days. So much so that it had been a relief to find that there were no new Numbers for the New York area today.
“Perhaps you’re right. I may take the rest of the day off… catch up on some reading…”
“Or,” Reese interjected, pulling the shopping bag out from under the desk completely, “you could take a nap. On your new Plushie Pillow.”
Finch gaped at him as he presented the Plushie Pillow with a flourish. It was made to look like a ladybug, with hearts instead of dots on its back and red hearts on the ends of its antennae. The head of the stuffed animal could, as its name suggested, double as a pillow, and there was a small fleece blanket (child-sized) folded up inside of its body.
“Reese… what on earth…” Finch began, but his voice trailed off weakly.
“It has a blanket inside, you know,” the other man explained with calm aplomb. “You can use it as a lap blanket when it gets cold in here. Or just leave it in so you have an extra-cushy pillow. I couldn’t stand to think how uncomfortable it must be for you to sleep on this hard desk…”
Since Reese had thrust it into his hands, practically, Finch could not help but take it. The fleece fur was soft and the ladybug’s face was smiling at him.
“Uh… This is very… considerate of you,” Finch managed.
“Do you like it?” Reese asked, leaning over in his chair and startling Finch with his sudden proximity.
“Ah, y-yes, of c-course. Very… s-soft, and… c-comfortable, I’m sure,” he stammered. Even though he had turned his body to face Reese and simultaneously backed as far away as he could in his chair, Reese’s face was rather too close for comfort. The younger man’s piercing blue eyes were fixed upon Finch’s own, almost paralyzing him with their intensity.
“I’m so glad, Harold,” Reese said in a soft, seductive tone. “I want this day to be… memorable.”
Finch felt a twitch in his nether regions and was shocked beyond words. He was actually getting aroused by the innuendo in Reese’s gentle voice. And when Reese moved even closer to him, leaning out of his own chair entirely, Finch realized that he was trapped – a moment later, he was caught in a deep, passionate, and very unexpected kiss.
Belatedly, Finch recognized that the security he had so meticulously built into this secret hideaway could be a double-edged sword: the fact that nobody on the outside could see or hear them also meant that he could not call or signal for help. He was alone, isolated in a room with a man who was very capable of overpowering him (even killing him if he so chose) and who was now showing every sign of being… romantically attracted to him. But as he continued to have his lips and mouth devoured by the former agent, Finch also had to acknowledge that he was feeling a growing desire to become… intimately involved with the handsome man. What form that would take, even his well-informed mind could not say for certain, but what was certain was that his awakened lust would need an outlet, and soon.
When Reese finally broke off the kiss, Finch gasped for air. He sensed that the other man was unbuttoning his waistcoat, then his shirt, while continuing to kiss his skin wherever it was exposed.
“Finch… Mmm… You taste so good,” Reese moaned against his neck. His hands had already unbuckled Finch’s belt and were now worming their way into his crowded trousers.
“What… I don’t… understand,” Finch panted out, barely able to think as his arousal was stimulated even more. “I… I’m not… normally… attracted to… other men…”
“But you are now?” Reese asked with a smirk.
“Y-Yes… I mean… I c-can’t… help it…” Finch whimpered.
“Well, if you’re feeling this way… about me,” Reese drawled triumphantly, “I think you’ve just been repressing your true feelings… Even if you were sexually stimulated, you wouldn’t feel attracted to someone that you didn’t care for, right? So it just means that… you liked me all along, but were too scared – or too inhibited – to let it show…”
“I… suppose…” Finch mumbled, his nerve endings tingling with every touch from Reese’s probing hands, every kiss planted on his chest by Reese’s mouth. However, the supercomputer that was his brain had not been shut off completely yet. “Wait…” he protested, his hands pressing in vain against Reese’s corded shoulder muscles. “What do you mean by… ‘sexually stimulated’? What have you done to me?”
Reese grinned sheepishly before he admitted, “I blackmailed a chocolatier into lacing these with Viagra. Not a lot, of course – just enough to get things… started.”
He emphasized his point by gripping Finch’s rock-hard manhood and pulling it out from the confines of his trousers. Finch could no longer argue as he felt Reese’s hot, wet tongue swirling around the tip and licking off his seeping pre-come. Nobody could see or hear them. And they had all the time in the world…
Finch had never experienced such sensations before. When Reese took his entire manhood into his mouth and began sucking on it – as though he were trying to suck all the come out of his body by force – Finch could not stop the helpless cries that escaped his lips. He felt Reese’s tongue stroke up the underside of his cock while his balls were gently massaged by the other man’s hands.
“Do you like it?” Reese asked, removing the warmth of his mouth for a moment.
“I… ah… Yes,” Finch panted, his mind completely befuddled now by lust and confusion. The one thing he knew was that he didn’t want Reese to stop what he had been doing.
“Okay. Just tell me if I get too rough,” Reese said with a smirk, and then – to Finch’s great relief – pulled his cock back into his mouth. He moaned around the hard organ, sending vibrations that traveled all the way up Finch’s spine.
This can’t be happening was the thought that flitted through the older man’s mind for a second, but then all coherent thought was banished as Reese began pulling up on his cock with his hands and tongue, the latter lingering to lick the rim of the crown and to press into the slit with its tip. The pressure that had been building up in Finch’s body, deep at the root of his manhood, finally reached critical mass and began ejecting his lava-hot fluid through his fleshy cannon.
“Ah! Ah! AH! AH! AHH! AHHH! AAAUUUGGGHHHHH!”
Finch barely recognized the voice as his own. He came so hard that he saw flashing stars on the inside of his eyelids, and he slumped back in the chair when he had finished. He didn’t even realize that Reese had caught most of his come with his mouth, his tongue outstretched like a spoon, and swallowed it. All Finch knew was that he had never been so thoroughly satisfied in his life.
“Was that good, Harold?” Reese’s teasing voice reached him through a happy fog.
“Ye—heh—yes,” he answered, still not fully cognizant.
“Well then, I hope you don’t mind if I have a turn at… enjoying myself,” Reese murmured, finding the Plushie Pillow on the floor where Finch had dropped it during their kiss. He pulled out the small fleece blanket (polka-dotted with red hearts) and spread it on the floor in front of the bookshelf, placing the pillow at one end. By the time he stood up to check on Finch, the computer genius was beginning to regain some semblance of composure – although he had not yet tucked his wilted manhood back inside of his clothes.
“Would you care to join me, Harold?” Reese said, offering him a hand.
“Ah… I, ah… I suppose,” Finch replied dubiously.
“You need to trust me, Harold… I would never hurt you,” Reese reassured him, helping him up out of the chair. He proceeded to remove Finch’s shirt and waistcoat, hanging them on the back of his chair, while Finch self-consciously wondered whether to adjust the clothing south of his belt. Reese answered that question as well, crouching to pull Finch’s trousers and underwear down to his feet. Swallowing (and noticing that his mouth was very dry), Finch stepped out of his shoes to stand on the floor, now dressed in only his black silk socks.
“Mmm… I like you like this,” Reese said with a slow smile moving across his lips. “Barefoot from the ankles up!”
“It’s a bit… chilly,” Finch remarked, stifling a shiver. The cool air on his exposed skin had brought him back to his senses, and he was having second thoughts about this whole affair; however, having had his own needs handled (quite literally) by Reese, he felt obligated to at least attempt to return the favor.
Reese nudged his flaccid cock with his handsome nose, sending another shiver up Finch’s spine, before placing a tender, affectionate kiss on the slick organ.
“I’ll turn up the thermostat, then, while you get settled,” Reese offered, unbuttoning his own shirt as he stood up. “Just lie down on the blanket in whatever position is easiest for you.”
Reese hung up his suit coat and shirt on the hat rack and deposited the rest of his clothing on another chair before turning up the temperature setting for the library. Finch was still trying to find a comfortable position on the thin blanket when the taller man returned to stand before him, completely naked. Finch was a little shocked to see the scars crisscrossing his body.
“So many…” he murmured without realizing that he had spoken out loud.
Reese shrugged. “Not as serious as yours, though. At least, none of them bother me much now.”
He regarded Finch with gentle eyes, taking in the long scar along the smaller man’s hip as he knelt beside him on the floor and ran a warm hand over that thigh. His touch was caressing, as though handling something precious – like a delicate flower.
Finch shuddered, this time from nervousness rather than the cold, for he could not help noticing how tall and proud Reese’s erect manhood was. Having a fairly good idea of what the other man intended to do with it, he trembled in anticipation.
“I think you need more chocolate,” Reese said with a sly smile, reaching back to grab the heart-shaped box from the table. He popped one into his own mouth as he held out the box for Finch and – though fully informed of their Viagra content – Finch decided to take another. He hoped that it would help make whatever was to follow easier to bear.
He had hardly started chewing the piece of candy when Reese lay down and pressed his body against him, wrapping his arms around Finch’s back to begin kissing him again. The lemon cream in Finch’s chocolate burst out and was smeared across the roof of his mouth by Reese’s tongue, which introduced the syrupy sweet cherry filling which had been in his piece. While the flavors were mashed and melded in his mouth, Finch felt the coolness of his skin quickly replaced by a hot flush as (to his own amazement) his body responded once again to Reese’s touch. The younger man’s warm body was touching him in more places than he cared to count – in the most intimate ways – but Finch was honest enough to admit that a good portion of the heat now warming him was coming from within. His hands were clumsily trying to grab hold of Reese, desperate for more of this delicious contact of flesh against flesh, and he didn’t even pause to consider what he was doing when he swallowed the chocolate confections in his mouth – he was too eager to feel Reese’s tongue directly on his own.
Sensing the growing change in his partner, Reese took his time, rubbing Finch’s back, sides, and shoulders in slow, seductive motions. They were an entangled mess of limbs when he finally broke off the kiss, leaving them both gasping for air, but he smiled to see Finch’s face so flushed.
“Don’t go anywhere,” he whispered before placing a quick peck on the tip of his nose, then rolled over onto the cold floor (hardly noticing it) to pull the shopping bag closer. There was one last item in the bottom of the bag. “This,” Reese explained, pulling out a tube, “is my Valentine’s Day present to me.” Grinning, he squeezed a dollop of lubricant onto his palm, which he then slathered carefully over two of his fingers.
Finch watched through half-closed eyelids, and although he knew where those digits were destined, he felt much less jittery than he had a minute ago. He inhaled deeply, trying to will his nether regions to relax, as Reese drew near again and reached around to the narrow valley that began at the base of his spine. The slippery fingers moved down until they found the cave they were searching for, but instead of going spelunking immediately, they explored the puckered entrance first. After thoroughly working his clenched muscles loose, one slender finger cautiously wormed into the tight orifice, making Finch moan.
“Did that hurt?” Reese asked, concerned, quickly withdrawing his finger.
“No, just… a bit uncomfortable,” Finch managed. “I… I’m not used to being… touched like that.”
“Am I… your first?”
There was an embarrassed pause before he answered, “Yes,” in a low voice.
“Not… the first time… ever?” Reese pressed, incredulously.
Finch could only nod – a quick, jerking movement – which was somehow oddly endearing.
“I’m so glad,” Reese told him, whispering into his ear as he embraced him with his non-sticky hand. The other was rubbing up and down in the crack, slicking the skin there as it did. “Oh, Harold… you have no idea how happy that makes me!”
“Oh,” Finch responded in surprise. “I… I see. Well, I’m glad that it… pleases you.”
Reese smiled warmly at him before catching him in another kiss, but his smile was still evident in the curve of his lips and the twinkle in his eyes. Finch was so engrossed in the kiss that he did not feel the other man’s finger entering him until it prodded his prostate.
“Mmph!” he cried, his voice muffled in Reese’s mouth. His eyes had flown wide open at the sensation, but the calmness in Reese’s expression made him relax, inhale through his nose, and close his eyes again. He felt the finger rub carefully yet confidently against his inner skin; having found his sweet spot, Reese massaged all around it as he rhythmically stroked the amazing little organ.
“Oh… John…” he moaned when their lips parted for a moment.
“The best is yet to come, Harold,” Reese promised.
Finch had quickly grown used to the intrusion of Reese’s finger in his back door – so much so that he hardly noticed when Reese added a second slender digit inside of him. The owner of the library did not even feel the hardness of its floor through the thin blanket anymore. Lying there on his side, cradled in one of Reese’s arms as the man quietly prepared him for penetration, all Finch could think about was how wonderfully warm and safe he felt. He had grown to trust the former operative implicitly, even with his life – and now, with his virginity. It simply felt right to be doing this. All of his embarrassment and hesitation had been cast off somewhere, like his clothes had been.
Reese withdrew his fingers to one-handedly squeeze more lubricant out and slick yet another finger. He didn’t move the arm he had wrapped around and under Finch, not wanting to jostle the older man or hurt his injuries; in fact, he held him even tighter, recognizing how relaxed his body had become. It meant more to Reese that the reclusive genius now trusted him than the fact that he was getting some much-needed sex for the first time in years.
Finch opened his eyes slightly when Reese’s fingers slipped out, more out of curiosity than concern. Sensing that Reese was doing something beyond his line of sight, he settled back against the taller man’s shoulder, only to find himself face-to-face with the scar of the gunshot wound that Reese had incurred on one of their early cases – the one with the judge. Even back then, Finch had been alarmed at the injury (though more because he feared for Reese’s ability as an asset than as a partner), but the man himself had been extremely cavalier about it. Doubtless, he had incurred far worse during his stint with the CIA, and possibly far more often than his files had revealed – even before they had been redacted. The wound was completely healed now, but the scar was still an ugly reminder of the knife’s-edge existence that he led. Feeling strangely penitent for having hired him to do such a job, Finch leant closer and pressed his lips against the scar. Reese started at the touch.
“Ah… I’m sorry, did that hurt?” Finch asked, concerned.
“No, just… caught me by surprise,” Reese replied, managing a shy smile. “It felt good, actually…”
Finch considered this for a moment, then began to press his lips – mouthing gently as he went – all over Reese’s shoulder, chest, and neck. He found it satisfying to touch the other man’s warm skin (both scarred and smooth) with his lips, and tentatively started to use his tongue as well. He was so engrossed in this new-found pleasure that he did not realize that Reese had re-inserted his fingers and added the third. He did, however, notice what Reese was doing when he felt his prostate being prodded again.
“Oh! Oh, WOW…” he gasped, grabbing Reese tightly about his torso.
“See, Harold – aren’t you glad that I got these special chocolates?” Reese teased, with a gentle nudge of his thigh against Finch’s cock, which had hardened perceptibly at the stimulus.
“Oh… yes…” Finch murmured in reply, panting heavily as Reese continued to stroke him from within. His breath bathed Reese’s bare chest in puffs of hot air, and his little moans were driving him crazy with desire.
“Harold, I can’t stand it – I need to take you now!” Reese declared.
“Okay…” was Finch’s somewhat hazy response.
“I need you to get up,” Reese explained with a light but somewhat desperate smile, shifting his own weight in preparation. “It’ll be easiest for both of us if you’re on your knees, I think. You can crouch and lie face-down, or brace yourself against the wall – try holding the lattice on this bookshelf, if it’s not too uncomfortable for your neck…”
Allowing himself to be helped into a sitting position, Finch saw what Reese was saying: the ornate wrought-iron grill that covered the bookshelf would give him a handhold with which to support his body. He crawled onto his knees rather clumsily, but was confident that Reese’s suggestion would work, especially when his partner folded up the little blanket to give his knees extra padding on the floor.
“Is this good?” he asked as he took up his position against the bookshelf.
“It looks great,” Reese assured him, grabbing the lobes of his ass with both hands. “Just make sure that you’re comfortable.”
“Ah… yes. Surprisingly so,” he murmured, swallowing as he felt Reese’s strong hands gripping, groping, and kneading his bottom. He was rather self-conscious of his wide hips – something he had disliked about his body even before the accident had limited his motor abilities – but the way Reese was touching his buttocks made it obvious that his partner, at any rate, found them attractive. The thought was comforting.
But right now, he wanted Reese to touch him on the inside again – to give him those wonderful bursts of sensation that he had grown to crave in so short a time. Being just as eager to satisfy that craving, Reese positioned his cock at Finch’s back entrance, thoroughly slicking it with another generous handful of lube (for he didn’t want to take any chances with causing Finch pain) and pressed the bulbous tip inside. The gasp that escaped from Finch’s parted lips was of pure pleasure.
Reese moved quickly into the lax area that his fingers had already prepared, and unerringly found Finch’s sweet spot. He stroked it a few times with his leaking head, just to hear his lover keen and mewl, before pressing further in. Once he met resistance, he grew cautious, moving very slowly until Finch’s body accepted his, inch by inch. It required all of his self-control to keep from rutting into Finch like a wild animal, but finally, his cock was plunged balls-deep into the smaller man’s tight, hot passage.
“Oh… Ohhh…” Finch moaned, amazed at how large Reese’s presence inside of him felt, amazed that he could fit the entire length and girth of his cock – which was tall and well-built, just like the rest of Reese – inside of him at all. He felt completely overpowered, subjugated, conquered, and dominated by Reese. And he liked it. Relished it, even.
“Ready, Harold?” Reese asked breathlessly, only just maintaining control over his hormonal instincts.
“Yes, John – do it!”
Almost before the words had left his lips, Finch was being fucked like a whore. Reese had planted his knees outside of Finch’s, but his long legs made it the perfect height for him to plunge his cock deep into Finch’s body. He adjusted the angle until he was hitting Finch’s prostate with every thrust, making him cry out over and over with the ever-increasing rhythm of lust. Finch could only hang on to the iron bars (which had probably not been designed for such a usage) as Reese attacked his ass with abandon, rubbing the slimy lubricant thin.
“Ah! Ah! Ahh… Oh, John!” Finch gasped.
“Ngh! Nnn… Uh! Nnngh!” Reese grunted as he supported their union by gripping Finch’s hips. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that he would leave bruises in the form of handprints on the smaller man’s skin, but he was beyond caring. He just needed to thrust into Finch’s hot flesh over and over and over…
Finch was beyond feeling any pain as well, being effectively engulfed in the sensation of having his manhood stimulated directly by Reese’s as it rubbed powerfully against his internal organs. He would not have believed that he could have been ready for release so soon after his previous climax, but Reese’s repeated rutting made it an inevitability.
“Ah! Ah! AHH! AHH! Ah—AAAHHHHH!“ Finch cried, releasing spurts of come from his untouched cock, shuddering uncontrollably.
The tremors and spasmodic seizing of Finch’s body clenched around Reese’s already-leaking cock, and he came moments after with a guttural cry.
“Ugh! Ugh! UGH! UUUGGGHHHHH!“
As Reese’s hot seminal fluid filled his body with heat, Finch stared unthinkingly at the floor, his forehead pressed against the iron lattice and his glasses threatening to fall off of his face. He recognized, somewhere in his ever-analytical mind, that the white mess on the wood floor below was his, and that Reese had just ejaculated the same stuff inside of his anal passage. It might have revolted him to even consider such a thing not very long ago, but right now, it only left him with a feeling of deep and intense satisfaction. He was actually sorry to feel Reese pull his spent manhood out of him.
“Are you all right?” his soft voice called up to Finch.
“Yes… More than all right, in fact,” he answered, a smile creeping into his expression before he could stop it.
“Good. You can lie down now, if you want,” Reese said invitingly. “I need to catch my breath… God, that was… wonderful…!”
Finch nodded in agreement, finding his limbs a bit shaky after the intensity of his release. He turned to see that Reese was lying down on the floor, looking up at him with satisfaction. Far from looking smug, he looked… happy. Finch eased himself down, but was wrapped in the other man’s arms before he could reach the floor – Reese pulled him on top of himself, letting him use his long body as a mattress of sorts.
“So… I hope this Valentine’s Day will be… memorable,” Reese murmured.
“I’m quite certain of it,” Finch responded with a faint smile, removing his glasses and snuggling to settle himself more comfortably against Reese’s chest. “It’s the first time anyone’s brought me a bouquet of roses.”
Reese laughed – a genuine, free-flowing chuckle that rumbled through Finch’s torso as well. With one hand he grabbed the folded-up blanket from the floor, then spread it over the smaller man’s naked back to keep him from getting chilled. They lay wordlessly for a few minutes, listening to the sound of their breathing as their bodies relaxed and to the distant hum of the furnace as it worked to warm the building.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Harold.”
“And to you, too, John.”
“Of course, we still have a lot of chocolates left…”
Finch did not answer, as he had fallen asleep. Reese stroked his back under the blanket until he dozed off as well.
A/N: I ended it here, but if I get a lot of positive feedback, I may be persuaded to continue it…