I am so hoping there's more closet fic to come out – we had so much Tahoe fic and no one got tired of it, so let's do the same with this scenario! (Seriously y'all I'm not used to having to be the first person to tackle a situation like this in fic haha) Though I have to admit, it's really, really difficult writing a first time when the show sets up the setting and the mood (I mean we're all just assuming they had sex but until we're told otherwise this is what I'm going with). I don't know if it's more pressure or just less room for creativity on the author's part or what, but ma – a – an this was a challenge.
Anyway I hope more people write closet fic because I need to read some. In case I hadn't said that already. :P
Briefly (and incredibly) relieved that her son had not been part of the entourage that had caught them, Paige put her lips back on Walter's with a hungry ferocity, fumbling for the door.
Somehow, they got it closed and were again bathed in darkness. She pushed his jacket off of his shoulders, agitated that she had to do this again. She never did this – never so soon. But she loved him. She'd never started a relationship already in love before. And this is what she did when she loved someone. His kisses were shooting through her like electric surges and it had been so long since she'd been in love and she needed him quicker than she was going to get him. She tugged his tie over his head and tossed it, and they both jumped when something metal crashed to the floor.
"What's..." Walter's lips came off hers and she felt him twist as he looked over his shoulder.
"The dustpan?" Paige said breathlessly, tugging him back around so she could kiss him again.
Walter kept his arms firmly around her, hands on her back, even as Paige re – started unbuttoning his shirt. Being in his arms felt incredible, but she wanted out of her dress. She wanted him to take it off of her. "Walter," she gasped against his lips, tugging at his shirt. He shrugged his shoulders, wiggling them until he was free of it, taking his hands off of her just long enough to get his arms out of his sleeve. When his hands returned to her, his fingers curled, twisting her dress around them. She sighed when he slid one strap off of her shoulder, then the other.
Then he stopped. She realized he was confused as to whether the dress was supposed to be pulled over her head or pushed down over her hips. And he didn't seem to want to take his lips off of hers to ask. "Zipper," she mumbled. He found it, and soon her dress was pooling at her ankles. She let go of his face and reached for the button on his pants, pushing them down his hips. Then she hooked her thumbs around her underwear, hearing Walter shift around to work his boxers down. Paige slid her arms around his neck. Her eyes were beginning to adjust, and her eyes locked on his, both of them panting lightly. "I like going slow," she said. "I like the romance and I like gentle but..." she shook her head. "But right now I just need you."
She heard and felt him nod. "Me too," he said, his voice sounding strained. Paige nodded slowly, running her tongue over her lips, then put them back on his. Their tongues tangled, her hands holding him in place and his caressing her skin between her ribs and her hips. She loved kissing him. She really, really loved kissing him.
"What about..." Walter began, his sentence cut off when Paige, agitated at his lips talking rather than kissing, tipped her head to the side and opened her mouth enough to cover his. She was on the pill. She assured him of that fact between kisses.
She could detect her own scent in the small space, and Walter grunted quietly as his hands came to rest on her hips, holding her against him. "Are you wet enough?" He asked against her lips. Paige mmm hmm'd in response and placed her hands on his shoulders, using them for leverage as she jumped up, gripping his hips with her thighs. The momentum caused him to step backward, his back against the wall. Paige had a momentary flash of panic, imagining him stepping on the dustpan and losing his balance. For once, they were lucky. She cradled his face in her hands, kissing him again, feeling him twitch against her thigh. "Help me," she mumbled.
Walter slid a hand down, positioning himself, and Paige sank down onto him, both of them grunting quietly. Paige closed her eyes, her muscles flexing around him. Placing her mouth back on his, tongue stroking his lower lip, she adjusted her legs and began to move on him, feeling him use the wall for leverage as he began to thrust his hips against hers.
They were out of sync at first, fumbling, and he slid his hands around and down, supporting her as she moved, and they fell into a rhythm. Paige tore her lips off of his and tipped her head back, groaning quietly, her eyes rolling back in her head with each thrust. Almost immediately, she missed his lips on hers, and her head lolled forward, seeking them. Walter met her, kissing her hard, his lips pressing against hers with such a force it was almost uncomfortable. Almost. And sometimes, there was a fine line between uncomfortable and absolutely wonderful.
His breath was hot, and his hips were pumping against hers at a quicker pace, making her own thrusts deeper, but that was okay because Paige was so close to the edge herself. She'd wanted him for...well, years, if she was honest with herself about those dreams, and all the built up frustration mixed with the intensity of the way they felt about each other meant that neither of them needed close to the twenty minutes that they had before they really had to go pack and make it to the airfield by the time the plane was scheduled to take off. She gripped his shoulders, continuing to kiss him, both to keep their moans between them and because God, she loved kissing him. Ever since his lips had been on hers, for those few seconds, in the garage well over a year ago now, she'd never been fully able to get thoughts of it out of her head. She'd longed to be kissed like that again, by him, and now everything was coming together so incredibly, so intensely, and she tore her lips away from his and gave a throaty groan as she came apart around him, her legs going weak as pleasure shot through her body. Walter's arms tightened around her, groaning himself before too long, and Paige could feel his thighs shaking against hers as he leaned against the wall, trying to stay upright while holding her. This position was hard on the standing person, and Paige carefully lifted off of him and lowered herself to the ground, mentally apologizing to whoever was going to have to clean up in there.
Walter didn't seem to want to let her go, keeping his arms around her even as he grunted in relief at not having to support her weight. She leaned against him, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head against his shoulder. She could feel his chest heaving, and she kissed his shoulder soothingly.
"Whoa," Walter gasped, lifting a hand up to rest in her hair. She giggled happily, breathlessly. She thought about the day they'd had, the awkwardness at the beginning, the longing, for both him and the team, the way he was so nervous when they'd started to dance and she had felt her heart start to beat faster as she asked him why that was. Even then, she hadn't in her wildest dreams imagined that less than ten minutes later they'd be having sex in a closet, openly in love with one another, every moment of past doubt falling away as if it no longer mattered.
This felt right. Everything about this felt right. And if this encounter was this incredible under the circumstances...Paige felt a pleasant shiver go down her spine as she imagined what they could do properly, on a bed, with a locked door and no time restrictions. She'd certainly been in love before – madly in love, even. But something was telling her that it had never felt quite like this. This didn't have the wondering feeling that her previous relationships had, when they were new. This felt like everything was supposed to feel – amplified.
Paige had always had trouble defining the word forever. She remembered going to church with a relative, and the preacher had said that if a dove flew by every one hundred years and brushed its wing against the church, forever was how long it would take for the dove to bring the building down. She hadn't been able to grasp that idea. Forever had always been an abstract concept to her.
But now, standing naked in a closet in the arms of an equally naked Walter O'Brien, both of them wobbly and out of breath, she felt another shiver down her spine as she realized that suddenly, that word had meaning. Suddenly, the concept made sense.
She supposed that should scare her. But it didn't. Everything she was feeling about this was good.
"We have to go pack," she said reluctantly.
She felt Walter press his lips to her temple. She lifted her head and smiled at him. "I love you," she said, her voice soft and low. He bit his lower lip and smiled, nodding rapidly. She'd overwhelmed him. "Aw," Paige said, placing one hand on the side of his face.
"I love you too," he said, tipping his head to the side to press against her hand.
"If we leave now, we can both shower and change and get to the plane."
"Yes!" Walter jumped slightly. "The plane, right."
"Tahiti," Paige said slowly. "Fancy hotel."
"But first we have to get there," she said, sighing, stepping away from him and feeling around with a foot for her dress. Grabbing it, she lifted her foot until she could grab the material and try to work it back up.
Once they were mostly re – dressed, Walter's tie just thrown over his shoulder, Paige cracked open the door and peered out. The coast was clear. She turned back to Walter, sliding her arms around his neck and kissing him sweetly, loving how his arms instinctively came up to wrap around her.
They separated, pushing the door open and venturing back out into the world.