Title: Fire and Water Author: Diandra Hollman E-Mail: diandrahollman@gmail.com Website: http://diandrahollman.neocities.org AO3: archiveofourown.org/users/diandrahollman/works Date Finished: 3/8/26 Rating: R Keywords: Jonathan Pine/Teddy Dos Santos, Slash, seductive manipulation, minor scene adjustment Spoilers: Probably no Disclaimer: I am a fanfiction writer. Clearly I would never be allowed to write these characters for actual money. Summary: He knows he is playing with fire, but he isn't afraid to burn. Author's Notes: This is all Chrissy's fault. "You're going to kill him," Roxanna had murmured. Not as an objection - she clearly doesn't care one way or the other - but as a simple observation. As he stumbles into her and she tips him into the pool, he realizes she is probably right. He floats for a while, barely aware of his own body. Certainly not enough to be able to move his limbs. To save himself. He feels like a detached observer in his own body. It would be so easy to simply let go. He doesn't resist as hands pull him from the water, but he can't aide their efforts either. The hands maneuver him into a warm cradle of arms. "Matthew," a voice calls gently, coaxing him back to his body. A hand sweeps his sodden hair back and he blinks up into Teddy's dark, piercing eyes. "You can tell me everything," the man soothes. "You're safe here." 'That's your snake in the garden,' Sally's voice echoes in his mind. But he feared it was really Teddy who was tempting him to ruin. 'You're going to kill him...' He forces his mouth to obey him again and allows his military training to take over. The enemy can only know what you want them to know, no matter what they do to you. He recites the story they crafted to suit this mission, his voice slowly regaining strength, even if it still slurs badly. Teddy gently coaxes the details from him piece by piece, continuing to stroke his hair, his hand. Lulling him into security maybe, but there is an unmistakable sensuality in the touch. A longing. In this, Jonathan sees an opportunity. The briefcase is in Teddy's bedroom. He snatches at his advantage, arching beneath Teddy's hands and whispering the details of Matthew's crimes like a supplicant confessing his sins. He regains enough control of his limbs to touch his own lips and then Teddy's, making playful shushing sounds. Testing the water. Something dark and hungry slides across Teddy's face and he feels a thrill of victory. He knows he is playing with fire, but he isn't afraid to burn. Even though he is still feeling disconnected and muddled by the toxic combination of chemicals coursing through his system, he knows he has the upper hand. That Teddy believes him to be more vulnerable than he really is as he offers to help Matthew clean his stolen money. "If you trust me," Teddy murmurs, stroking his cheek tenderly. He pours as much rapturous wonder into his face as he can manage and pleads "make me clean" in a breathless whisper. Then he turns until Teddy's thumb brushes over his lips, sacrificing eye contact in the process. He sighs, closes his eyes and lets his tongue dart out to flick the pad of it, hearing Teddy's breath catch slightly. He pauses just long enough to be certain the man won't pull away before wrapping his lips around the digit with a soft hum. Teddy freezes, barely breathing as Jonathan sucks the tip of his thumb, lazily swirling his tongue. He makes a tiny, helpless sound - almost a muffled whimper - and suppresses a smile as he hears Teddy bite back an answering groan. He doesn't have to see the Colombian's expression to know he is coming undone. Emboldened, he lets his jaw slacken, his cheeks hollow, sucking the digit fully into his mouth, inviting Teddy to extrapolate information from the visuals and imagine what he would look like in a different context... Jonathan gasps as the thumb is ripped from his mouth abruptly, leaving a streak of saliva across his lips. He blinks, dazed as Teddy barks something in Spanish he is not quite alert enough to process. Hands pull him up suddenly, making the world swim unpleasantly and he is forced to close his eyes. After a minute of rough handling, he is deposited on a much less comfortable surface, face down. He groans as he realizes it isn't the bed inside but one of the chairs by the pool. Of course. Nothing about this mission could possibly be that easy. He pretends to be unconscious, biding his time while he tries to think of a way to salvage his plan to get inside Teddy's bedroom. He is still muddled and slow, but he doesn't need to be at 100% to tempt his way into a mark's bed. He is still plotting potential seduction tactics when he hears Teddy hand the briefcase to one of his men with instructions to take it to Cartagena and he realizes, once again, that he has failed.