Yowzah Oneshot Collection (2)

186(M)Mattex

                    Day #4 - Game

imaginationandheartbreak (alexgrey)

“…But if you weren’t recognized… famous…” Matt struggles and almost stumbles on that last part.

“But I am sweetie – only second tier, though… welcome to LA,” Alex says with a grin. “Could be worse…”

“Worse?”

“Easy – no one *ever* knowing who you are. Bad for business.”

Shit. He knows it. But sometimes the obvious isn’t easy to appreciate. Alex Kingston, on the other hand, is so, so, so easy to appreciate and Matt leans in close and whispers low across her neck: “We could play the stranger game.”

“Stranger game?”

“Yeah… we could be in a grocery store, carts passing unaware until I see those fucking curls. I’d just throw myself in front of you and beg you to fuck me in the frozen food section.”

“Steady, soldier… frozen foods?” her smile is impossibly carefree and perfect, he thinks. That’s what he’s working to do.

“Oh, yes… I so would love… and forget about fucking me. I would *worship* you by the frozen peas. On my knees…”

“Am I wearing a skirt?”

“Yes…”

“Then proceed. Under the skirt then, by the peas.” Alex takes a big gulp of wine. “I’m not wearing underwear.” She drinks like she fucks – with an utterly uncalculated abandon. And giggles fetchingly at the faux admission.

“You never do.” Matt leers at her and grabs his beer and finishes it. Opens another. “Oh, I am SO under your skirt by the peas” and he laughs and kisses her and can’t quite believe – he never quite can – that Alex Kingston kisses him back.

“You, me, skirt, peas…” she whispers all in a rush, close to his lips, before Matt moves to lick a trail along her neck, stopping to tug at her earlobe, pulling a moan, his hands hot on her waist, her hands on his hips and they giggle softly together into the dark of the room, then, rain outside the window, television tuned to a movie they’ve both already seen, background hum, cotton nightclothes, teeth already brushed and she pulls his lower lip between hers with a light nip: “Love you.”

It’s more slumber party than porn movie, Alex thinks. And she likes it. More than she wants to, to be honest. More than she should. It seems impossibly fragile to get Matt Smith like this and like … well, like the rest of what they have. Desperate. Academy award-winning sex. She adores it. But she’d be lying if she didn’t occasionally worry that the future might have her calling in the stunt double. She hasn’t had so many rug burns since RADA.

“Ok, I’ll play,” she purrs in a voice she knows can make him hard, pouring another glass of wine and looking dreamily out the window into the dark: “You, me, presidential suite, hotel bar.”

“mmm…. Another game we both win,” Matt laughs. “I want you in a hat. I want no one to interfere with our hotel fantasy. Wait - it’s not at a convention or anything, is it?”

“No, never… that would…” she stops to think. And then she’s smiling “… involve far more negotiation. For the record, I’d prefer a brunette.” She says this last bit with a dirty smile, another large gulp and a steady gaze.

Matt chokes just a bit on his beer. “Really? Could we?”

And she is blushing. Matt makes a mental note of both her surface discomfort and the deep yes of her body language. Being with Alex Kingston is like winning the lottery on a daily basis honestly, he thinks, and not for the first time…“shit you are so hot, love, no one but you for me. But if you’d like me to watch…” he adds, grinning, already hard, ready for her.