Work Text:
When she gets home, her boys are there. Fred jumps into her arms with such rigour, it almost throws her off balance. Tom hugs her, and there is no awkward teenage reluctance. She clutches them both close and tells them how much she missed them, because bloody hell she’s missed them.
Lucy is there as well, and her father, and she greets both of them with warm hugs.
And then she spots him.
Hardy is hovering behind them, looking like he would rather be almost everywhere else in the world.
She’s suddenly nervous. The conversation they had on the phone seems far away - almost as if it happened in an alternate universe - and now he’s here, looking every bit the surly colleague she left.
But she’s in love with him.
And he’s in love with her.
And she should probably kiss him.
But there’s a part of her that needs him to make the first move. Not because she couldn’t do that herself, but because she still can’t quite believe he likes her back.
She feels like a teenager.
So instead of running to him, jumping in his arms and kissing him like she is yearning to do, she waves at him.
Smooth, Miller. Smooth.
He waves back, half a smile appearing on his face and GOD he’s hot.
Sure, Crowley and Hardy look alike, but where Crowley is expressive and cheeky and loud, Hardy is … the opposite. He moves carefully, smiles rarely and is mostly quiet.
But he’s deliberate. The way he looks at her makes her shiver, makes her feel like the most important woman in the entire world.
He’s so proud and stoic and cool, but he’s also a gigantic dork with a heart that’s so big it almost broke.
She smiles back at him, and then they all walk out of the train station.
There’s a dinner. Lucy is there, her father, her boys, Olly, Beth, Mark … and Hardy.
It’s nice. She’s missed everyone. She wants to tell them everything about what she’s experienced, but she can’t tell them a single thing.
And even though she loves them all, appreciates them for doing this for her, she would also really like to be alone with her boys.
And Hardy.
Eventually, the guests start seeping out. Mark and Beth both hug her, and Beth shoots her a glance that lets her know that she knows more than Ellie has let on.
She decides to tell her. But not now. Tomorrow, maybe.
Olly takes her father home, and Lucy puts Fred to bed. Tom goes to bed too, kissing her on the cheek on the way.
It feels like an alternate universe.
She hears the clatter of plates from the kitchen, so she grabs her wine glass and goes to investigate.
Hardy is there, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, arms buried in her sink.
“Are you washing up!?” She laughs.
He looks up and his mouth quirks into a soft smile. “Couldn’t just leave it.”
She crosses the room and leans against the kitchen table next to him.
“Are you going to help?” he asks.
“Nope,” she takes a sip of her wine and crosses her arms. “Just enjoying the view.”
He puts the plate he was working on down and dries his hands. Then he turns to her, meeting her eyes. “It’s good to have you back,” he says.
She suddenly feels out of breath. They’re closer than they’ve been … well, ever, and the phone call is suddenly very clear in her mind.
“It’s good to be back,” she whispers.
He moves slowly, touching her waist gently as he pulls her to him. He doesn’t go for a kiss, which she’s only momentarily disappointed by. Instead, he hugs her. Gently. Almost as if he’s afraid she’ll break if he squeezes her too tightly.
She melts into it. Brings her arms to his shoulders, pulling him closer, deepening the hug until they’re flush against each other. Hardy responds, squeezing her closer, letting one arm encircle her waist as the other caresses her back.
They’ve never hugged before. Never really touched at all. And a part of her has been wondering if a physical relationship between them would even work. He looks so lanky, so tall, so fragile - and she’s none of that. She’s short and plump and sturdy.
But he’s not fragile. He’s strong. And sturdy too. She feels safe in his arms, she realises. Comforted. Calm. She breathes him in, and lets herself enjoy being held like this.
She hasn’t been held since Joe.
But she doesn’t want to think about him right now. Or ever again, for that matter.
After a while, Hardy pulls back. Not enough to let go, but enough for their eyes to meet and for Ellie to realise how close their faces are.
She wants to kiss him.
She has wanted to kiss him for such a long time, it’s almost become a permanent ache inside of her.
And now it’s happening, she realises. He’s leaning in. And so is she.
And then the door to the kitchen is thrown open and Lucy’s voice brings them both back to reality.
“Fred is down, and I think Tom-OOOOH, what’s happening in here?” she says, shooting them a mischievous smile.
“Just thanking Hardy for his help,” she says, as they let go of each other.
“Right,” he says, turning back to his dishes.
“Thanking him how?” Lucy continues, leaning over the counter with a predatory look in her eyes.
“Oh, come off it.”
“I’m just saying,” Lucy sings as Ellie herds her out of the kitchen.
“Thank you for putting Fred down, now please, go home,” she herds her towards the door.
“Sorry for cockblocking you, sis,” she laughs as she puts on her coat. “I’m guessing you didn’t end up with the bachelor .”
“No comment,” she says and pushes her out of the door.
When she comes back to the kitchen, Hardy is hovering awkwardly at the table. “I should probably head home as well,” he says.
“Oh. Right.”
“You, uh, probably want to be alone,” he attempts a smile, but he just looks vaguely constipated. “See you tomorrow?”
She nods absentmindedly and follows him to the door.
“Goodnight then,” he says as he turns to leave.
“Goodnight.”
She’s just about to close the door behind him when he turns around and wraps her in a quick hug. “Good to have you back,” he says and then he lets her go and practically runs out the door.
She should have known a simple conversation on the phone wouldn’t be enough to make Alec Hardy act like a normal human being.
Things go back to normal.
She takes care of her boys. Goes to work. Has dinner with Beth. Sees her family.
And she spends a lot of time with Hardy.
But there are no more hugs. No lingering glances or accidental touches.
It’s as if the phone call never happened. As if they never hugged in her kitchen.
And it’s getting ridiculous.
A week goes by.
And then another week.
And she’s itching to touch him. To kiss him. To talk to him.
But she’s stubborn. And so is he, apparently.
Because nothing happens.
There’s an office party on the Friday that marks her first month back.
She puts on mascara and a top that makes her breasts look good. God, she misses Maggie’s magical make-up skills …
Of course, Hardy refuses to come out of his office, so she talks to her coworkers while she nurses a beer, and tries not to stare at his office door.
When people start leaving, she decides to make her move. This is getting ridiculous.
She doesn’t bother knocking.
Hardy is hunched over his desk. His glasses are on his nose, and he’s reading a case file. His hair looks like it’s been through a wind tunnel, and she knows he’s been pulling at it in frustration.
“Aren’t you at a party?” he asks without looking up.
She leans against his desk, right next to him, placing a beer gingerly on the table. “Drink this.”
“I’m working, Miller,” he says, poring over the page in front of him.
She shakes her head. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Go party. Have fun.”
“I don’t want to party,” she says, taking a sip of her own beer. “I don’t want to have fun.”
“Pull up a chair then,” he says. He still hasn’t looked at her once.
“I don’t want to work either.”
“Well, go home then,” he mumbles, turning the page.
“I don’t want to go home either.”
“What do you want, then?” he asks, frustrated. And finally, he looks up, meeting her eyes.
“I want to spend some time with the guy I fancy. Even if he is a massive, bloody bastard.”
She takes another swig of her beer, trying to act nonchalant, even though her heart is beating out of her chest.
It’s as if her words take a while to penetrate Hardy’s thick skull, but when they finally do, he pulls out his chair and goes to stand in front of her.
He grabs her beer from her hands and puts it on the table. He turns to her, but then seems to think better of it. He grabs her bottle - and the bottle she brought for him - and puts them on the shelf behind them. “What are you doing?” she laughs, but her laugh dies out when he turns back to her.
“I don’t want to make a mess,” he shrugs, and then he’s on her.
And this time, it’s more than just a hug.
He kisses her with searing, insistent lips, his hands grasping at her waist, pushing her against the desk.
And she kisses him back. She wraps her arms around his shoulders, follows his every move as their lips move together.
She’s spent a lot of time wondering how it would be to kiss Alec Hardy. But she could never have imagined how it really feels. It’s not hesitant or awkward. It’s not careful and soft. It’s hot and intense and passionate. It’s all hands and lips and teeth and tongues. It’s like opening a pressure cooker, like going down a waterfall, like jumping out of a plane.
He grabs her ass, lifts her to the desk and slots himself in between her thighs. The papers he was just poring over, crunches beneath her but she doesn’t care. And neither does he.
She pulls at his hair, touches his chest through his shirt, moves her hands towards his ass.
And he does the same. She’s grateful for the top she decided on, since it grants him easier access to her breasts. He groans when she grabs his ass, and he squeezes her breast through the fabric of her bra.
She pushes at his coat, and he sheds it quickly before going back to touching her.
She wants more. Wants everything.
But the door isn’t locked. And half of their coworkers are drinking in the room right next to them.
“Hardy,” she gasps, when he pulls her shirt over her head. “The door. It’s-”
He kisses her again, hard and fast, and then he runs to the door and pulls the lock. He makes sure the blinds are closed, and then he comes back.
He takes her in, letting his eyes rest on her chest before touching her again.
“You’re beautiful.”
She blushes and reaches for him. “Kiss me, you bastard,” she says.
This kiss is slower. More deliberate. She unbuttons his shirt while their lips move against each other, and he undoes her bra.
The bra falls to the floor, and she feels her nipples harden at the chill of her room. He touches her, running thumbs over her nipples and massages them like it’s the first time he’s ever been allowed to touch a pair of breasts.
He stops kissing her, choosing instead to take her nipple between his teeth, licking and biting as he moves a hand down over her stomach towards the fly of her trousers. She moans when he manages to get his hand underneath her waistband and touches her between her thighs.
She spreads her legs, letting him touch her through the fabric of her underwear.
“Wait,” she says, hating herself for stopping him, but needing more .
She pushes at his shoulders and is met with his dazed eyes. “Sorry,” he mumbles.
“Oh, no, no no,” she says pulling him to her again. “Not sorry. Just … need more.”
She kisses him and pushes him away again. Then she jumps off the desk, undoes her trousers and pulls them down. He follows her move, shrugging off his shirt and pulling off his trousers.
She jumps back on the desk and pulls him to her. He’s so thin, but so strong, and the way his skin feels against hers is intoxicating.
She touches the scar that hides his pacemaker, and meets his gaze. “Can you feel it?” she asks.
He shakes his head.
“I’m really glad you’re alive,” she says, and it’s a ridiculous notion, because of course she is, but it suddenly dawns on him how close she came to losing him.
“Me too,” he smiles. “Especially right now.”
She laughs.
He kisses her again and pushes her back on the desk until she’s spread out in front of him. He kisses his way down her body, licking each nipple and sliding his beard against the softness of her stomach. When he reaches her thighs, he spreads them with firm hands and kisses the inside of both of them.
She feels out of breath and desperate for him to touch her. He grabs her underwear and pulls it off, spreading her legs again. He kisses her knee. The inside of her thigh. Her lower stomach.
And then he kisses her where she most wants it.
She moans and grabs his head as he moves his tongue over her clit, using his fingers to tease her.
He’s done this before, she thinks. No one can be this good without practice. Why Tess ever decided to divorce him is beyond her. Because this is mindblowing.
He brings her so close to the edge, she almost starts shaking. And then he pulls back, kissing her inner thigh.
“Oh, you really are a bastard,” she laughs, and he chuckles against her thigh.
“Want more?”
“Yes,” she moans, as he touches her again. “Please don’t stop.”
So he doesn’t. He licks her and sucks at her clit, as he fingers her slowly. She’s shaking with it, completely overwhelmed. And then she comes, her hands clutching at his hair and his name spilling from her lips.
Alec.
Over and over again.
He licks her through it, and when he finally pulls back, she feels completely spent.
“I don’t think you’ve ever called me Alec before,” he says, fondly, leaning over her. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and pulls him to her.
“Felt right,” she says, kissing him.
“Mmm,” he says against her lips and she can’t believe this is really happening.
She reaches for his cock, moving her hand over him while she kisses him. He groans into their kiss, hands touching her breasts.
He’s between her legs, so close, and she wants him. She wants him so badly, she almost can’t cope.
“I don’t have a condom,” he whimpers, as she positions him against her.
“I’m on the pill,” she says. “Have been since Fred.”
He practically growls as he slides into her, and she immediately wraps her legs around him. He kisses her, and then he starts moving. She feels her body gearing up for another orgasm. He hits her just right , and his lanky frame hides a surprising amount of stamina.
He grabs her hips and pulls her closer to the edge of the table. She sits up, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him close.
It’s all breathing and moaning and thrusting and it sends thrills down her spine. Knowing their co-workers are just outside the door makes it somehow even more intense.
“I’m close,” he breathes, his pace becoming reckless.
She kisses him, urges him on. And when he brings a hand to her clit, she comes almost immediately.
He follows closely after, leaning over her until she’s on her back again, his body covering hers as they both try to settle their breathing.
“D’you think they heard?” Hardy asks after a short while, pulling out of her.
“Probably,” she shrugs. “If we’re lucky, the music drowned us out.”
He chuckles. “Embarrassed of me, Miller?”
“Quite the opposite,” she sits up as he rummages around his desk to find something to clean them up with. “I don’t want to share you.”
“Don’t worry,” he laughs, wiping off her inner thighs with a kleenex. “There’s not exactly a line of suitors waiting for their turn.”
She raises her eyebrow at him.
“And even if there was,” he leans over her. “I’m quite content where I am.”
She shakes her head and kisses him. “I feel so appreciated.”
“I don’t do feelings , Miller,” he says. “But if I did …” He pulls her into a close hug, and if she wasn’t so satisfied already, being this close to him would probably get her going again. Especially since they’re both still naked.
“I’d probably say something like … Ellie Miller, you’re my best friend, which, to be fair, isn’t saying much, but the statement still stands, and I love you. I’m in love with you.”
“Hmm,” she says, looking up at him. “I think you forgot to say something about how gorgeous and perfect I am, and how much you-”
She doesn’t get to finish, because he’s kissing her and who is she to deny him?
They eventually manage to put their clothes back on.
Hardy’s hair is still standing on edge, her own hair is probably a big mess too and judging by the way Hardy’s lips look, her own must look thoroughly well- kissed as well.
They’re detectives. If they walk out of this room together right now, every single one of their coworkers will know what just happened.
And although it would be nice for people to just know, she also wants to keep a modicum of distance between herself and her coworkers. And she would also like to keep it to herself for just a short while longer.
Just until she’s gotten used to the fact that she can kiss Hardy without reason. That she’s allowed to touch him.
“We’re stuck in here, aren’t we?” he asks, picking up the beers from the shelf and hands one to her.
“At least until the others leave,” she smiles, bringing the bottle to her lips.
“Thought as much.”
“Bored of me already?” She teases.
“No,” he shrugs and sits back down. “I would just really like to spend a few hours in bed with you.”
“Yeah?”
“I’ve waited for years, Miller. I might not be ready for round two quite yet, but I’m already thinking about all the things I want to do to you. With you.”
She straddles his thighs, and he grabs her ass as she lets him carry her weight.
“I would very much like to hear what you have in mind,” she says, leaning in to kiss him.
“Can’t tell you,” he kisses her again. “It’s better experienced.”
“Fine,” she says, standing back up. “Then let’s get out of here.”
“But-”
“No buts,” she says, unlocking the door. “You coming?”
He stands, pausing briefly to kiss her before opening the door. “Not until you do,” he laughs and exits.
She smiles and tries to suppress an eye roll as she follows him out of the building, and as soon as they’re in his car, he grabs her hand and kisses it.
“Your bed or mine?” he asks.
“Don’t care. As long as you’re in it.”