Jealous

Summary: Beckett gets a little jealous, and MC (Tamsin) convinces him he doesn’t need to be.

Note: I was chatting with my dear friend L the other day and sent her a picture of the faceclaim I use for Beckett that gave me the first idea for this fic, and it just ran off from there.

“I still can’t believe you tried to punch Everett.”

From his spot on her desk chair, Beckett winces as Tamsin none-too-gently dabs at the cut across the bridge of his nose with warm, soapy water.

“Ouch!”

She rolls her eyes but presses more gently.

“What were you thinking?” she asks.

Beckett looks down and mumbles something at the floor. Tamsin tilts his chin up, forcing him to look at her. He huffs out a sigh.

“I said, he was flirting with you and I didn’t like it,” he mutters.

Tamsin pauses and sets the washcloth down next to them. She methodically applies a dab of antibacterial ointment and Beckett winces again. For a second she considers putting a band aid that declares NINJA FIGHT on him, but the cut isn’t that bad and she figures his ego’s taken enough of a beating today.

Beckett studiously stares down at the floor, occasionally sneaking glances up at her. It’s like he’s trying to gauge how annoyed she is. A tiny smile creeps across her face in spite of herself.

She shouldn’t smile. Her boyfriend just tried to punch her Thief captain and now Beckett is going to have a massive black eye, but there’s something a little flattering about him being jealous. Even if it had resulted in him getting clocked across the face. Beckett frowns at her expression.

“I’m glad this is so amusing for you,” he grumbles.

Tamsin sets the ointment down a little harder than she needs to and narrows her eyes at him. Beckett sucks in a breath when she cups his face in her hands and kisses him soundly. His cheeks are pink when she leans back and brushes her nose over his.

“I’m smiling because you’re being ridiculous,” she murmurs.

She gently runs her thumb over the bruise beginning to bloom under his left eye and he hisses in pain. This time she apologizes, kissing him once, twice, until she feels him relax into her.

“I don’t want Everett,” she says pointedly. “I’ve never wanted Everett.”

“I know that,” he scowls.

“So why try and punch him?” she asks again.

“It’s… I…” Beckett huffs in frustration.

He shakes his head, then clears his throat and tries again. “You know people… say things about us dating.”

Oh, she knows. She’s heard the whispered comments (and the decidedly not whispered comments) about why, of all people, she’s dating Beckett Harrington. They annoy her, but she’s already learned the hard way to keep her temper in check, lest she send an entire building up in flames. As much as it goes against her every instinct to ignore the gossip, she prefers to avoid another visit to Dean Goeffe’s office. Getting expelled is not on her list of things to do.

She thinks about that when her temper flares and she’s tempted to give people a (very loud) piece of her mind.

“Beckett,” she says, a bit impatiently. “People will always gossip. You know I want to be with you. Only you. Who cares what other people are saying?”

He mutters something under his breath about how that’s easy for her to say because everyone seems to like her. She gets where he’s coming from, she really does. She’s sympathetic. But it’s already been a long day and she’s not going to spend the rest of it with Beckett wallowing and grumpy. So she does the one thing that never fails to get him out of his own head – she distracts him. (And, if she’s being perfectly honest, her distractions usually make him blush, and there’s something really appealing about that.)

“You know,” she begins casually, taking his hand and leading him over to sit on her bed, “If you really want to give people something to gossip about, I could just start making out with you in the middle of classes.”

Beckett’s head whips up. “What?”

“Or announce to everyone I see how good looking you are,” she continues.

“I-”

“Or-“ she interrupts him, “-I could very loudly and enthusiastically discuss our sex life with Shreya in the dining room.”

His mouth drops open, his jaw working up and down like he’s trying to say something but has forgotten how to form any actual words. He looks like he’s eaten the school out of dragon links, his face is so red.

“Tamsin,” he finally manages to utter.

She raises an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Please don’t discuss our sex life in public,” he blurts out.

Of all things, she laughs to herself, that’s what he manages to say.

She ignores the faintly panicked look on his face and nudges him to lay back on her bed. She straddles him, watching his eyes close and shivering a little at the feel of his hands going to her hips and squeezing a bit possessively.

“But why not?” she asks, practically purring the words.

Her hair drapes around them when she leans down to kiss him, sighing, “It would give people something else to gossip about.”

“I-you can’t-” he says pleadingly.

Tamsin can feel the heat radiating off of him, even between their clothing. His hands drift under the back of her shirt and she sits up just enough to unceremoniously yank it over her head. She can see him swallow hard and gently nips at his lower lip before kissing him again.

“But it would,” she murmurs, rocking her hips against his. “And as stupid as it was to try and punch Everett-”

Beckett tenses at her words, so she rolls her hips into his again and is rewarded with a groan. He hardens and squirms underneath her.

“-and as much as you don’t need to be jealous… it was kind of hot,” she breathes.

Beckett looks at her in disbelief. “He ducked and then punched me in the face,” he finally says. “How is that hot?”

Tamsin makes a noise of frustration. “Because it is. You like me so much that you, Beckett Harrington, were willing to get in a physical altercation over me. That part was hot. Just accept it.”

She sits up just enough to fix him with a stern look. “But don’t do it again.”

“Trust me, I have no desire to repeat getting punched in the face,” he mutters under his breath.

She reaches behind her, feeling for the clasp on her bra, but Beckett pulls her hands away. He sits up and unhooks it with ease, dropping soft kisses on her shoulder.

It had surprised her at first, his affectionate side. He was far sweeter and more romantic than she would have expected, given their first encounter.

“You smell good,” he murmurs, burying his face in her neck and sucking gently. “How do you still smell good after playing Thief?”

She moans when he lightly sinks his teeth into the soft curve between her neck and her shoulder.

“Mm,” she hums in pleasure, then quips, “Magick.”

Beckett groans and lifts his head up. “And you say my sense of humor is terrible.”

“It is,” she says, impatiently adding, “Don’t stop.”

There’s a faint whine in her voice but she doesn’t care, just threads her fingers into his hair and guides him back down, her eyes drifting closed.

She shifts closer, then pauses. Her eyes open again.

“Tamsin?”

“You smell…” Tamsin wrinkles her nose. “Like you’ve been in an almost fight.”

She pushes him away, still frowning. “You need a shower.”

“But-” he protests.

“No,” she interrupts him. “Shower. Now.”

“But-” Beckett says again.

“I love that your vocabulary shrinks when you’re horny,” Tamsin says, sneaking in another kiss.

Beckett turns red. “It-that’s not-”

“It’s like your vocabulary shrinks as your-”

“Tamsin!” he yelps.

She grins at him innocently. “What? No one else is here. Now come on. Shower.”

She purposely presses her hips into his when she climbs off of him and tugs her shirt back on.

A disappointed expression flashes across his face. It gives her an idea.

“I’ll join you,” she says casually.

There’s a pause where he stares at her in dismay.

“What?”

“There’s that shrinking vocabulary again,” she laughs.

She grabs her shower caddy and waits for him impatiently. Beckett remains on the bed.

“You can’t shower with me,” he finally splutters.

“Sure I can.”

“We’ll get expelled,” he protests.

Tamsin waves this off. “If we haven’t been expelled yet for everything we’ve done, I think we’re okay. Besides, we won’t be the first or last people to have sex in the showers.”

Beckett grimaces. “That’s a disturbing thought. And not convincing.”

He’s impossible sometimes. She finds it a little endearing and appreciates the challenge most days, but right now…

“Beckett,” she says sweetly. “I want you.”

The breathy way she says the words makes him shift uncomfortably. Tamsin glances down.

“You very obviously want me.”

“I-yes,” he mumbles.

She grins. There is something truly flattering about reducing him to single words.

“Then come shower with me,” she pouts.

He’s complained once or twice (okay, many times) about that pout, about how ridiculous she looked. But he always gave in when she did it.

Beckett still looks reluctant, so she cups his face with her free hand and kisses him again. “We can use the private bath on the third floor,” she suggests. “The one with the tub.”

“…I suppose that would work,” he agrees with a sigh.

Once they get inside the private bath, Tamsin locks the door, starts the water, and strips unceremoniously. Beckett gapes at her.

“What?” she asks. “You’ve seen me naked before.”

“I know. I just-you’re…”

He trails off when she begins undressing him too. She draws her finger in a line down his chest and stomach, giggling when his muscles clench. When she trails her hand lower, he groans so loudly that she claps her hand over his mouth.

“I don’t think this room is sound proof,” she scolds him teasingly.

Beckett flushes. “Yes, well, this was your suggestion.”

She stills her hand. Beckett groans again when she drags her hand back up. His heart is pounding under her palm.

“I can always leave,” she breathes in his ear.

“That’s not what I meant,” he protests. “I just meant-”

“Beckett.”

She yanks his boxer-briefs down and kisses him, hard.

“Get in the shower,” she says.

He steps up and over the tub without further protest, offering her a hand when she joins him. He showers ridiculously fast. Tamsin watches him in amusement, then washes her hair and watches him staring at her. Beckett swallows hard as she runs her loofah over her body with deliberate slowness and rinses off.

“You know the whole point of me showering with you was to spend more than three minutes in here,” she comments.

His cheeks turn pink and he glances towards where the door is.

“Relax,” she murmurs, wrapping her arms around him. His muscles are tense underneath her. “The door is locked.”

He exhales a noisy breath and relaxes, just a little bit. Tamsin rises on her toes and drops a quick kiss on his lips.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous,” she grins.

“Yes, well, ‘expelled for having sex in the shower with another student’ does not have a nice ring to it,” he mutters.

She ignores him. He can protest all he wants, she can feel just how much he wants her. She kisses him again, then sinks to her knees.

“Tamsin, what are you-”

His hands tangle in her hand when she takes him into her mouth.

“Oh god,” he groans, loud once again.

The only thing more satisfying than reducing him to one-word responses is making him be loud. She relaxes her throat, taking him in further, and his hips nearly snap forward.

“Tamsin, I…” his words end on a drawn-out moan.

She glances up to find him staring at her dazedly.

“I…I…”

He finally hauls her to her feet, kissing her messily. His hands are everywhere, cupping her breasts, running over her ass, dipping between her legs.

“God, yes,” she moans.

He nips at her neck, slipping his fingers easily into her warmth.

“Mm,” she whimpers, wrapping her arms around his neck to hold herself up.

He wraps his other arm securely around her waist.

For someone so inexperienced when they’d met, Beckett had been a fast learner. It hadn’t really surprised her, although he’d turned a brilliant shade of red when she’d asked him how he knew so much. He’d finally admitted, when they were both lying in her bed, sweaty and breathing hard, that yes, he’d ‘looked some things up’.

“I wanted it to be-I just-I wanted you to feel good,” he’d explained, tripping over the words.

“That…is really sweet and also really, really hot,” she’d said at last. “And you definitely succeeded.”

He’d adorably turned even redder.

Tamsin bites back a shriek when Beckett curls his fingers, his thumb circling her clit.

“Beckett,” she moans against his neck. “There… don’t stop…”

She sinks her teeth into his skin when he makes her come, muffling her near-scream.

It’s her turn to stare at him a bit dazedly, blinking up at him slowly. He looks utterly satisfied but also keeps shifting against her, groaning quietly at her every movement. She slips her hand between them, running it over his erection, and he jerks against her.

“I want you. Now,” she groans.

Thank god for birth control, she thinks to herself, not for the first time.

Beckett lets out a strangled noise when she turns around, pressing her ass back against him and rocking her hips.

“God, Tamsin.”

“Hmm,” she hums, tilting her chin up so she can kiss him.

His hands drift over her breasts and down her stomach. She thinks she might imagine it, but she swears she hears him curse when she leans forward and plants her hands on the back of the shower. She definitely hears him curse, just under his breath, when he presses into her. The angle and the way he moves has her digging her nails uselessly into the cold fiberglass under her fingers.

“Mmm,” she moans, thrusting back. “You feel-”

He slams into her, his fingers tightly gripping her hips, and the words die. She bites her lip when he speeds up. Beckett groans when she clenches her muscles around him, then slips one of his hands between her legs.

She nearly cries out his name, then remembers where they are and forces herself not to. Her eyes slam closed and her breath escapes in a noisy gasp when he presses his thumb to her sensitive nub and she comes again. She drops her forehead next to her hands, breathing raggedly.

Beckett squeezes her hips so hard when he reaches his release that she thinks she might have marks in the morning. Not that she minds. She’s left her own marks on him before, which she’d blamed him for.

“Maybe if you sucked at sex it wouldn’t happen,” she’d retorted, and he’d stopped complaining immediately.

Tamsin stands slowly, sighing in satisfaction when he kisses her slowly and they rinse off. She smiles when Beckett helps her step over the tub and leans in to kiss her again.

“Will you admit this was a good idea now?” she asks, running the towel over her hair and watching unabashedly as Beckett pulls his pants back on.

Someone suddenly knocks on the door, loudly, when she has her shirt halfway on. Beckett glances at her with horror and panic written all over his face.

“Someone’s in here!” Tamsin calls, quickly yanking her shirt down the rest of the way.

Whoever it is grumbles but stops knocking. Tamsin exhales after a few seconds and then looks at Beckett. He’s half-dressed, his hair is everywhere, and he looks ready to bolt out the door. She fights back her laughter.

“Come on,” she grins. “Get dressed.”

He groans when she leans in and murmurs, “Shreya won’t be back in the dorm for at least another hour.”