Work Text:
Evenings with Vincent were the sort of calm that differed heavily from the chaos and fragility of missions, or the control and perfection of the lab. Creating such dangerous, yet stunning concoctions, was an art form in itself, yet filled with such a precarious line between failure and success, and it was an exhausting and draining task.
So the evenings relaxing in bed with Vincent were a calm, sweet reprieve from the stress of the usual day. Something about his presence, even just there beside her in his fancy thread counted silk pajamas, glasses upon the bridge of his nose as he read some novel, a tasseled bookmark on the nightstand, was a calming factor. The cologne he wore danced around the air, diffusing its strong yet alluring scent. It filled her nose with its careful notes, a smell she had to come to associate with him, his presence and his care.
Vincent, tonight, was not looking at his book. Instead his gaze looked over his glasses and coasted across her face, delicate and lingering, as if she were a fine wine he wished to savour in that very moment. His gaze was consuming, yet soft in its nature. Gentle as it poured over her.
‘You’re staring’. Sabine remarked.
He smiled slightly, more of a guilty smile tinged with something light.
‘Yes, mon amour?’ He adjusted his glasses, pushing them up his nose as he straightened, setting his book aside, the bookmark tucked safely inside.
Sabine couldn't help her own smirk rising. Vincent knew exactly what he was doing. A slow, yet simple beginning. He teased with looks - almost ironic for a man who was usually so focused upon his own.
‘You’re up to something, aren’t you?’
Sabine already knew the answer, even before she spoke. Of course he was. Vincent was a schemer, a mastermind of incredible intellect - almost as much as herself - and was always up to something.
And here he was; clearly up to something with the way his gaze drifted over her, like a mischievous wind curling around in the atmosphere of the room, the amber light from the bedside lamps creating a warmth that was just perfectly them.
Sabine sighed,’ Spill it Vincent’.
He merely smiled.
‘Am I forbidden to look at you, ma cherie? For you must know, your beauty is the one thing that astounds me, every time.’
Sabine huffed in amusement. Vincent was a master of words - always knowing what to say. It seemed now, he was choosing flattery, and it was already working. Her heart gave a light flutter - as it usually did when he was creating a spell with his words.
He shifted, turning on his side so he could caress his fingers along her jaw, lingering as they began to trace down her neck, a delicate curve forming at the edge of his lips as he felt her pulse jump beneath his featherlight touch.
Sabine shuddered out a breath. After so long together, he knew just how to get her worked up - a few careful words and a touch was always the beginning. He moved closer to her, his head closer to hers as he captured her lips in a gentle kiss.
In that instant, Sabine felt the tension of the day melt, like a taut string finally cut, a sudden snap that turned into a wave upon a beach, receding calmly as his fingers traced along her collarbone, his other hand coming to cup her jaw. His fingers traced along scars - the webbing of lightning, the harsher, more obvious cuts of past missions, lines that were raised or shallow upon pale skin. He caressed them like they were fine silver, something to be craved and gently loved and cherished.
They were part of her - as much as her emerald gaze, her raven hair, her soft chuckles and dreamy gaze she would refuse to admit she had.
Sabine parted her lips, ever so slightly, leaning deeper into the kiss. It tasted like velvet, like fine wine, expensive and so very them.
So she let him take them deeper, a slide, a grasp as his hand gripped her shoulder, touch like iron's vice like grip, yet so gentle in its care as their mouths continued their heated collision, the kiss growing deeper with every passing moment.
It was rich, like fine truffle, it was the sweetness of honey, it was the grasp of ivy upon an ancient oak as it consumed them.
They broke apart, breath filling their kiss starved lungs. Vincent's face held a handsome flush upon her cheekbones, and a ruddy smile upon his plush lips.
He looked oddly… adorable like this. So smug yet bewildered, like he still couldn't believe them, that this was real. It was sappy, but it was endearing. Sabine has no quarrel with it. Not when he looked so precious in his shocked state.
It made him alluring in a way that flowers were - beautifully innocent, yet deceptively stunning. It was something Sabine believed she was addicted to, and that this pull would never lessen.
And right now?
It only deepened.
Its power seemed to wash over both of them, their intertwined bond of years and nights together a familiar heat spreading through their respective bodies, lingering where their kiss had been locked moments ago.
Vincent leaned back in, capturing her lips with the same softness as he cupped the back of her neck. Sabine melted into it, parting her lips as they fell deeper into the spiral of one another, time slowing around them to preserve the moment.
Funny, how she always felt that way with Vincent. Like when she was him, the world stopped, and only they remained.
And tonight, Sabine wanted to go deeper.
Vincent went to carefully pull away, but Sabine's hand kept him close, their mouths continuing to meet in their heated passion.
It was a wildfire, a fatal bloom, an all consuming rush of want and lust and desire and everything boiling in their blood that night.
Vincent moved closer, breaking their kiss before carefully pulling Sabine atop him, her straddling him as they resumed their kiss, his hands coming to rest upon her hips as her hands cupped his jaw.
They hooked apart for air, breathless, softly panting.
Her eyes burned emerald fire, poison and want.
His returned brown warmth and his own desire.
They broke apart once more, her hands having left his jaw, tracing over the lines of his chest, his pajama top, fingers lingering at the buttons. He gave a nod, and those buttons became undone, his chest now becoming unveiled.
Now, Sabine understood that Vincent wasn't a typically muscular man. His strength rested in his ingenuity and his brilliant mind, something Sabine adored. Intelligence was something she loved really - Vincent in all senses was a partner who understood her and his intelligence only complimented it.
She traced her touch along his chest like a feather, admiring the way his tattoos seemed to hum under her fingers. The gold stood out against his skin, her pale fingers more so.
She began grazing the tattoos along his chest, the way his finger jumped upon her hip when she skated her nails down.
She hummed, clearly satisfied with his reaction, him gripping her hips tighter, fingers digging in like an iron vice.
His exhale as her nails continued their tracing was like one where he’d been underwater, more so of a gasp, breathless.
Sabine couldn't help loving it. Their time was a back and forth, where one relented and the other took the reins. All in plan, with their connection a clear show of want. Any difference from that, and they would stop - it was clear.
Vincent was in a lustful trance. His fingers along her hips deep enough to bruise, that vice grip still present.
Sabine could feel him coming to life beneath where she was currently straddling him. A wry smirk emboldened itself upon her lips, as she lessened her tracing, and bent her head to kiss him again.
Their kiss was full of hot desire, like spice and cinnamon, enchanting and iridescent, that trace lingering as they broke apart once again. His hands left her hips, beginning to wander up her torso, slipping beneath the fabric of her shirt. His touch traced the lines of her stomach, the maps of lightning and old wounds he knew so well. They traced higher, across fabric before heading back down again.
Sabine shuddered from his worshipful touch. His smile turned cunningly smug as he suddenly rolled them, sabine now upon her back, Vincent hovering above her. Their mouths met once again, his hands reaching to her back, his hesitation before her nod of confirmation. He unclipped her bra, the garment becoming loose as his hands found her breasts, softly palming them.
He savoured her gasp and his touch lingered. Removed his hands and slipped them back out from under her shirt.
‘Vincent...’ Sabine’s words were breathy as his hands began to work towards her shorts, waiting for her say.
‘Please.’
With that, he moved, tugging her shorts down, exposing the black lace beneath. He moved with the motion, moving down the bed, until he was in fact, off of it, upon his knees at the foot, as he tugged her down.
The lace glistened in the low light, a clear sign of her arousal as much as the tent in his pajama trousers was a clear sign of his.
He waited again, fingers lingering at the waistband of the lace for her say so, before carefully pulling them down, discarding them somewhere behind him.
Now with Sabine on display, Vincent felt a straight bolt of heat strike through his bones, resting within his abdomen as a pool of melting desire.
He leaned forward, mouth parting as he licked a careful stripe up her centre, savouring her breathless gasp.
He liked to tease, to linger, to savour and taste the essence of desire, how his slowly strokes of his tongue across her core made her taste even more heavenly, how a careful glide across her clit elicited such a delightful gasp from her mouth, a shudder as he began to work properly, worshipping her.
She tasted like divinity, like the sharp bite of her toxins and heat. Like her through and through. He loved the taste of her arousal - the scent was intoxicating, the taste a drug he never wanted freedom from.
His tongue worked her folds carefully, subtle brushes over her clit to feel it pulse beneath his ministrations. Vincent brought up his hands, one holding her hip steady, the pad of a thumb beginning delicate strokes across her clit.
Sabine made a choked sound, making him slow, but her hips shifted, urging him on. Of course, with that, how could he not?
He brought his fingers to her entrance, feeling the wetness there, beginning to carefully slide one in. Her hips bucked again, another sound bordering on a breathy moan.
Vincent went slowly, curling his finger inside her, feeling the way her walls clenched around the intrusion. His face turned almost smug, pausing his work on her to speak.
‘I think you like me being on my knees’
She didn’t speak. Could only breathe, slowly, face flooded with heat, cheeks burning as his brown stare ate into her green one.
‘To you its control. But for me, ma cherie, this is my control.’
With that, Vincent dove back in. His work was methodical - after being together for so long, he knew just what Sabine needed.
So he worked. Another finger carefully joining the first, curling just right to elicit one of those delicious little sounds. The sound of her losing her composure as he zeroed in on her pleasure was something he loved, and he’d never stop loving it.
It was an artform to be the one to build her up to the pinnacle and watch her become consumed with pleasure.
Vincent continued his ministrations, pumping his fingers in a steady rhythm. Sabine didn’t speak, just breathed, gasped and shivered with erratic shocks of pleasure as he drove it higher, in his aroused desperation.
She was so pretty when she shattered, and to Vincent, it felt like heaven swallowing him up, to hear her groan in the web of pleasure’s ecstasy.
He had little warning before her thighs clamped around his head, her walls clenching around his two fingers and she tipped over the edge, her taste flooding his tongue as he worked her through the aftershocks.
He pulled away slowly, eyes moving to rest upon her face
Sabine’s face was cast in a pretty flush, a post orgasm glow that made her cheeks pink and her eyes glassy with the lingering effects of pleasure. Her breathing was frequent, soft breaths that showed the effect his worship had upon her.
Something in Vincent’s chest melted. The way Sabine looked in these moments, whilst so dashingly beautiful as she always was, her look was always touched with vulnerability, and trust. It made him feel chosen, special, favoured that it was him she trusted with her body, to bring her down from the high.
They were frozen in time, the moment a warm capsule between them, the world and reality outside the room far from their conscious minds.
As she came back down, awareness settling in, Sabine became more aware of the strain showing itself in Vincent’s pajama trousers. She smiled wryly, seeing through the calm mask upon his face as she observed the clear sign of his own arousal.
Heat pooled in Sabine’s abdomen, despite the lingering residue from her own orgasm. She knew Vincent would hesitate, and wouldn't make any move until she made it clear. He was giving her full control now - after having had his own. It was a delicious leash of trust, one where she could tease, deny and give all in one.
Her mind whirred in possibilities, and it was clear that Vincent could sense the cogs turning, distantly following her train of thought whilst he remained upon his knees.
Precious seconds passed between the two.
Sabine’s eyes darted to his groin, the movement quick yet noticed by the way their stares met.
Her mouth curved in a smirk, clearly understanding the power he was giving her. When Vincent gave himself up like this, it was an astounding beauty - and Sabine was never going to waste it.
His need was so clear, but she took her time. Observed his face, the way his bottom lip caught between his teeth, the way his jaw was set. His need, his want and desire glimmered in his brown eyes, but Sabine was going to toy with him first.
She moved away from the bed, moving back to lounge upon the pillows. She was naked from the waist down, bra loose beneath her shirt. Her seat left a glimpse of between her legs - a tantalising view to Vincent, who almost groaned in desperation.
The taste of her still lingered upon his tongue, and he craved to feel her once again.
But he waited, patently, allowing her to carry out her tease, her game.
She always loved the thrill of the power, the control the anchor of their own ship, even as they soared high in the realm of pleasure.
He was desperate, but let her set the pace, noting how she contemplated him - whether to allow him, or force his patience. Retribution for other nights, where he’d gone slow enough to crack hers, perhaps? Or maybe, it was just Sabine’s thrill of holding the control in her hands
Her gaze drifted to his arousal, glinting with mischief.
Now that was intriguing.
Sabien was a professional woman, and seeing that glimmer, twinkle of something more in those emerald eyes was a delicious signal of a time to come.
As if Vincent wasn’t excited enough.
She tipped her head, motioning for him to come up onto the bed, so he did, resting himself at the foot whilst gazing upon her. He removed his shirt in its entirety, leaving no fabric to hide his chest, or the golden tattoos that ran across his torso. They caught the lights subtly, seeming like they were glowing against his skin - like fire warmed metal cast in its lines across his body.
Sabine’s stare turned dark almost. That heavy lidded green gaze beginning to glaze further with lust, the remains of her arousal stirring back again.
From Vincent’s view, she was soaked, glistening in the low light.
That flare of mischief showed itself again, and he had little warning before she slowly removed her shirt, the garment dropped to the floor beside the bed. Her bra followed suit, leaving her completely bare.
The beauty of her body was on full display - that slight muscle that was so deceptively yet so strong, the lightning that webbed across her skin, the scars that cut across her pale skin. Her curves were on full display.
Vincent was always encaptivated by her body. Her looks in total always took him aback, despite his constant viewing of them, he could never really believe her beauty.
‘Come here...’ Sabine purred, a tantalising bite to the honey of her voice, beckoning him forward towards her.
He obeyed, eyes never leaving her.
She seemed to revel in his acceptance, so decided to take it further.
When he got close, she placed a palm upon his chest, to prevent him from getting any closer, her other hand snaking toward his pajama trousers. He stilled, going limber as her hand entered his waistband and skirted along the band of his boxers, before entering.
Her hand was warm against him, her palm soft against his skin. She teased him, gliding her fingers airily along his length before retracting.
It wasn't long before she retracted her hand completely, tugging down his boxers and his trousers in a simple tug.
He moved, only to aid her in his unclothing, before he too was bare, and still once again.
Her hand drifted towards him again, encasing him as she slowly worked him.
Her nails skated irregularly against him in her motion, thumb swiping over the tip as liquid beaded there, evidence of his arousal. She dragged it back down with the motion of her hand, slicking him in his own arousal.
He almost groaned from the pleasure of it, the barest touch had him craving her more than he had before, wanting to feel her encasing him.
But Sabine set her own pace, teasing, mischievous and completely hers.
She stroked him like she had all the time in the world, winding him up so slowly he could have combusted from the heat.
‘Sabine...’ Vincent murmured, dipping his head to rest beside her neck, inhaling her scent as a shudder rolled through him at a particularly vicious skate of her nails. He fought a groan as she did it again, but it slipped past his lips .
‘Vincent...’
She did it again.
He groaned loudly that time, face buried in her neck. The feeling of her tease was temptation, and it urged him, made him want even more.
She clearly knew what he wanted, but was taking her sweet time getting to it.
Taunting was something she always did like to drag out.
‘Go on, Vincent.’
Her words were almost whispered, but clear in their meaning.
He kissed her neck, gently sucking on the skin before moving his lips further up towards her jaw.
He was gentle in the way he handled her, but clear in what this was. He moved her back against the pillows, his arms caging around her as he held himself up.
A low, airy laugh escaped from Sabine.
He moved his lips to hers, locking them in a kiss.
He broke it to lean to the bedside table and open the draw, grabbing a package from the box.
Supporting himself via his knees, he ripped it open, rolling it down upon himself before placing the empty wrapper upon the nightstand to deal with later.
Briefly checking that the condom was secure, he initiated another kiss, lining himself up at her entrance.
He paused.
Her hips shifted forwards, taking the tip of him into her.
Vincent’s inhale synced with Sabine’s own exhale as he slowly began to slide in, a careful pace as he inched in.
He was always careful in their joining, always hesitant and gentle in its action. Sabine didn’t mind though - it was oddly endearing that his care was so etched into everything he did.
When he was properly seated, he didn’t move, letting her adjust to the fill of him inside her, waiting for her push.
Her hips twitched, another exhale and he slid back slowly, thrusting forward once more.
Sabine wasn’t entirely a very vocal person in sex, her pleasure was more the quiet, more physical kind that elicited twitches and the delicious warmth of her falling apart.
They fell into a rhythm, the slide of Vincent against her walls, the way Sabine rocked her hips back into him to match his pace, how his hand slipped between them to ghost across her clit to drive her pleasure higher.
A gasp escaped her lips as his length hit the spot inside her, so he hit it again, eliciting another delicious gasp.
Her eyes blazed with emerald fire as they surged together, the room filled with the sounds of their lovemaking, the sounds of hips meeting and the sound of skin on skin.
A thin sheen of sweat glistened on skin, catching the low light as they moved together in that unrelenting rhythm.
A shiver rolled through Sabine, Vincent picking up the pace as they neared the precipice of pleasure. It was a surging heat coiling within their abdomens, a raging fire that burned, a craft of their creation that they soon approached.
His touch across her clit became obsessive, desperate to feel her tip over before he did.
Another shiver rolled through her, another gasp as his hips pistoned with further motivation, angling as right as he could to bring her pleasure closer.
A few more strokes, and she tipped over, the waves of pleasure like a tide rushing in, feeling his sheathed length spasm within her as he spilled into the confines of the condom with his own orgasm overcoming him.
They rested there for a few brief moments, catching their breath.
Sabine’s eyes had the same gloss of pleasure still passing, the heat of the waves still cascading through her body as they settled to a resting point.
Vincent slowly pulled out, minding the condom carefully as he retreated to the bathroom to dispose of it.
He returned to find Sabine sitting more upright against the cushions, that post orgasm glow spread across her collarbone, her neck, her cheeks.
A wry smirk was pictured across her lips as he climbed atop the bed towards her, nuzzling her neck where he’d sucked it.
‘Vincent we have to change the sheets,’ she said, almost playfully pushing him away. ‘I am not sleeping on these.’
A low chuckle escaped him now, as he slipped off the bed, padding towards the bathroom where he had just been.
The showerhead was turned on, hot water beginning to pour from it as the heat and steam spread across the bathroom.
Moments passed before Sabine entered the bathroom herself, joining him under the cascade of water.
The warmth spread like wildfire across their bodies, water sluicing away sweat and slick. Vincent selected Sabine’s shampoo from the wall caddy, dosing the amount into his palm before beginning to lather it through her hair, creating an even spread whilst the water washed it away.
‘Spin.’
So he did, allowing Sabine to give him the same.
They cleaned one another - casual intimacy - before the shower shut off and they stepped out, wrapping one another in the soft towels kept on the shelf beside the shower.
Now clean, they had to deal with the sheets.
They stripped the bed in sync, Vincent dropping the old sheets in the laundry hamper inside the bathroom whilst Sabine got new ones from the cupboard.
It was in unison - the spreading of the lower sheet, the changing of covers for the cushions, the layering of the duvet across the bed’s entirety.
Vincent smoothed out the corners, Sabine grabbing fresh pajamas from the wardrobe for both of them. Once dressed, the littered garments from around the room were too dropped in the laundry hamper for dealing with in the morning.
Now settled, redressed, clean and the bed freshly made, Vincent settled into it, Sabine slipping under the covers alongside him.
The light was turned off, the darkness consuming them.