Title: Rise 
Author: A.j. 
Rating: NC-17 Porn! Whooo! 
Fault: Timey's. 
Fandom: Dom/Nate. And how! 
 
Note: Written because Timey was complaining there was no new Dom/Nate 
porn. Yes, I do take requests. Thinking of stuff for myself is 
pointless and doesn't work. Tell me what to write! 

***
 
The first clue that this is going to be a very good morning is the hand 
between his legs and Dom's smile against his neck. 
 
The nice, soft, had with calluses that he knows aren't his. Doing very 
nice things. 
 
Very nice. 
 
"Like that, do you?" Smokey and airy, the question blooms down his 
spine from his ear, intensifying the warmth caused by the sun slating 
through the window. Fuzzily, he wonders if keeping the blinds open is a 
good idea, but that thought drifts off as fingers circled and slid. "I 
know you're awake..." 
 
"Guh..." Yeah, he hadn't had his coffee yet. Not that he's complaining. 
 
"So articulate, Nathan." A chuckle vibrates across the skin of his 
chest, punctuated by a quick bite with blunt teeth. Sharp and right, he 
can almost feel the little bruise bloom. The woman next to him has 
given him thousands of tiny hurts like it over the years. A nip here, 
nails there. Somewhere in the deep, sentimental part of his brain, he 
treasures each of them. She's claiming him. Has claimed. 
 
He's grinning. It's seven am on a Tuesday, he hasn't had coffee, and 
he's grinning at the ceiling with his eyes closed. 
 
God, he loves this woman. 
 
The hand slides more, cupping. Shifting. *Sliding*... 
 
Oh, and he wants to fuck her too. But... not just yet. 
 
Stretching, he curves his arm around her back, skimming the muscle and 
long planes of her side. In his mind's eye, he can see his hand, dark 
with tan, moving against the unremitting white. It always jerks 
something primal in him to see that. 
 
The Alpha Male inside him crows. She is smaller. Weaker. He is strong 
and big and can protect. Except, this woman could rip his lungs up 
through his nose without much physical exertion. 
 
And he wouldn't have it any other way. 
 
She gasps pleasantly as his hand curls around her flank. He times his 
strokes on her thigh with hers on his cock. Dragging gun calluses 
across sensitive flesh. The curve of her ass. 
 
He really, *really* likes her ass. 
 
"Shit, you're good at that..." And she really likes his fingers. She's 
panting. Hot and heavy against his ribs, grazing nipple and chest hair. 
Warm and wet and slow, she begins to shift against him. Drag on his 
hip. Nuzzle. Slide of her hand. 
 
*Not so bad yourself.* Easier than using oxygen best directed somewhere 
else. Warm and bright in her mind. Like the sun outside, slow like 
honey over her conscious mind. Picturing it like that. Lets her feel 
what she's doing. 
 
Gasping now, she releases him and slides up and over until he knows 
she's staring down at him. Black hair draped around her face, falling 
down the sides of her face like pitch water. He can feel the ends 
dragging along his skin sending bolts of light and energy arcing down 
his nerve endings. 
 
Nothing compared to her lower body rubbing back and forth and back and 
forth and *back and forth* on his. 
 
He is extremely surprised his brain has not, as yet, leaked out his 
ear. Plenty of time for that later. 
 
And then she's kissing him. Breast to chest, tugging at his lower lip, 
tongue sweeping along his teeth. She tastes like sleep and morning 
breath, and it doesn't matter because his hand's on her face tracing 
and touching. His eyes are still shut. Doesn't need to see. Just needs 
to feel and know and taste. 
 
His hand slides up a long her jaw, rubbing and cupping; letting her 
duck back and forth. Nipping here and there until she's back and 
kissing hard and proud and long. 
 
His other hand slides from her hip, tracing the bone of it. Follows it 
forward until he can feel her. Wet skin. Warm skin. And she's grinning 
into his mouth making happy little sounds. 
 
Sounds she doesn't always make. And he's warmer now. Gloriously, 
totally warm. Another reason he loves doing this to and with her. This 
time is always too cold. He always needs sweaters and thick socks. Even 
in spring. Doesn't mind though. Not with this woman stealing them and 
looking all of twelve draped in too much fabric. Him knowing there's 
nothing there but the sweater and the socks. 
 
She moves then. Tracing a line of kisses up his jaw to his ear. Teeth 
are back. Blunt and not very gentle, they move around the shell of his 
ear. 
 
Someone's groaning. It's probably him. 
 
Her hair drags across him, her lower body mimicking its motion. Drag, 
drag, *drag*. And her neck is *right there*. 
 
"Fuuuuck..." Not him. Nope, not him. Mouth attached to the line of her 
trapezium, laving, moving, knowing. 
 
Hands in his hair now. Grasping. She likes it a bit long on top. Good 
enough to tug, adoring the stubborn lock of hair that insists on 
getting into his eyes. It's annoying but bearable. Worth it for her. 
 
She smells like ginger. Spicy and hot on his tongue, in his lungs. It 
suits her like florals never could. Those are different things than she 
is. They are proper, distant. Young. He's never known Dom to be any of 
those things. 
 
Can't picture someone who is those things rubbing up against him long 
and perfect and dirty like this. So wet and good he knows they'll have 
to change the sheets, again, when they finally get up. Move beyond this 
place and these moments in the sun. 
 
Her breath hitches in his ear and he knowsknows*knows* that he can't do 
this anymore. Won't. 
 
And then she's back and down and on him. He's in her. She's in him. At 
this point it really doesn't matter. Nothing but the slow start and 
slide. Rocking and moving and heat around and in him. 
 
"God, Nate!" 
 
Her teeth nip a path between his nipples, more out of desperation than 
design. He's with it enough to know that. Rocking moving *sliiide*... 
Feels her mind glowing and reaching. Knows that she feels what he does, 
loves this. 
 
In these moments, he loves his gift. Despite everything else, he loves 
it for this. This touch, raw and powerful and *everything*. 
 
Her rocking against him. Has to curl up and taste her for this. Mouth 
on mouth, wet and open. Spine bent at an angle that will hurt later, 
but not caring because he needs this. Needs her. 
 
Opens his eyes and sees her staring back. 
 
Feels her break in his head. Eyes wide. Still surprising after all 
these years. 
 
"Dom-" Gasping, crying. 
 
Oh, yeah. Definitely a good morning.

-fin-