Title: Made to be Broken
Author: Jo. R
Category: Smut, mild angst, romance
Spoilers: 'Judgement Day'.
Challenge/Prompt: Smut challenge
Summary: Some rules are made to be broken.
Author's Note: Might be a series, might be a standalone. I'm not entirely sure yet.
The first time it happened was still a blur of tangled limbs and heavy sighs. She remembered inviting herself across to Gibbs' house after the team had been transferred elsewhere, taking with her a bottle of bourbon and a change of clothes. She'd had no intention of going home that night but she hadn't been expecting to share his bed, either.
They'd both drunk their fair share of alcohol by the time it happened. Abby had a vague recollection of mentioning something about feeling alone and not having had sex in a long time... the next thing she remembered was being pressed against the smooth wood of his boat, her arms and legs wrapped around him, holding him as close as physically possible with all of their clothes still intact.
"We shouldn't do this," Gibbs muttered, his mouth pressing hot kisses along the slender line of her throat belaying the momentarily fear his words created. Her legs around his hips kept her body pressed against the boat even as his hands got to work on the buttons of her blouse.
The sound of his shirt tearing accompanied by a giggled 'oops' told him she didn't share his concerns. He smiled against her skin, surprised he could still remember how. That was his Abby, her gift. She was always able to bring light to even the darkest of nights.
The buttons of her blouse skittered across the floor as he lost his patience with them, his mouth feasting on her breasts through the lace bra she wore silencing her protests over the fate of the ruined garment. She threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him close but not forcing him, a soft moan escaping her when he bit a peaked nipple then closed his lips around it.
Her bra quickly joined her blouse on the floor, another casualty. It had been one of her favourites but she couldn't bring herself to care, the assault on her sensitive flesh taking her mind to levels that couldn't comprehend the need for clothes in any shape or form.
His hands moved beneath the hem of her skirt, fingers trailing over her outer thigh as they moved up, up to the waist band of her panties. They, too, were torn away as neither was willing to part long enough to let them slip down her legs.
Abby moaned and writhed unashamedly, fixing her unfocused gaze on the single light bulb that lit the basement. She couldn't anything but hold on to him, cling to his shoulders, to the side of the boat, to anything that would give her enough purchase to move her hips against his insistently.
She hadn't been lying when she'd told him it'd been a while and being with him only made her movements all the more desperate.
His fingers slipped inside her, his lips and tongue and teeth still teasing each of her breasts in turn. She tried to tell him to stop, tried to tell him to keep going, but all that left her were moans and sighs and inarticulate cries.
The world faded into darkness, her eyes closing as her mouth moved wordlessly.
Gibbs didn't give her time to recover, pulling her up into his arms again, kissing her hard, almost punishingly as her hands slipped between them to fumble with the fly of his jeans. With his help, she was able to get them undone, pushing the heavy material down over his hips along with his boxers, her hand stroking his swollen penis for a few scant moments before he pulled her hand away, pinning her arms to the side of the boat as he entered her in one strong, fluid motion.
A cry escaped her, a groan torn from his throat.
They didn't speak; words were beyond them. He thrust into her, hard, fast and unforgiving. After a few moments, she met him thrust for thrust, tilting her hips, tightening her inner muscles, giving as much as she could take.
Every thrust brought them closer. Every thrust was an attempt at forgetting something.
Ziva leaving for Israel.
Tony's assignment as an Agent Afloat.
Tim transferring to the cyber crime division.
While their climaxes were physically satisfying, there was still a hollow ache inside them emotionally. Abby clung to him, her face pressed into his shoulder as he lowered her down, his own head resting against hers. They panted heavily, trying to catch their breath as the enormity of what they'd done slowly began to sink in.
For years, they'd indulged in a flirtatious dance. It'd been so tempting to stray over the line so many times but they'd always resisted, always drawn back before they crossed it.
It was too late for that now.
Gibbs lifted his head, his ordinarily light blue eyes dark and shadowed when she managed to bring herself to look up at him. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again, brow furrowed as he realised he didn't know what to say.
"No strings," Abby murmured, surprised by the sound of her own voice. "We needed this. I needed this." She pressed a finger against his lips when it looked like he was going to talk again. "Just sex between friends, Gibbs. Damn good sex, I'll grant you that. Nothing else. I don't want anything you can't give me. I just want... I need to be close to someone right now. To you."
Friends with benefits. Casual sex. That was what she was offering, all she could offer.
It was all she knew he'd accept.
Gibbs nodded, unable or unwilling to speak. He leaned in to kiss her again, lips softly brushing hers before he pulled away and took her by the hand, leading her upstairs, up to his room and into his bed.