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He was a sweet kid. That was her first impression of him.
It was a funny thing to think, too, since she was sure to be at least a couple years younger than him. He just had this indescribable glow of naivety to him, simple honeydew eyes and a sweet orange lilt to his voice. When he spoke, his words lacked that artificial current that so frequently plagued the blood sharks she met in this business. He said what he meant. He was sincere; she could see it in his eyes. And he never thought twice.
It was that same quality that had her associates brand him a sociopath, or, as Jesse put it, a ‘wack job.’ The contrast between his youthful disposition and the actions he oftentimes took was severe, to be fair. But to her it made him endearing, a rare, untarnished gem buried in piles of desert sand.
And so she took to him very quickly.
Mike noticed near instantly, though not to her surprise. She visited Walt and Jesse as they cooked far more often than necessary, hoping to catch a glimpse of Todd as he worked. When in the same room, her eyes would naturally drift to him. She smiled when they talked, giggled more than she’s certain any of them had ever seen her giggle. Mike had taken her aside one day, told her in a very sober tone to remember the keen distinctions that existed between their two groups: the critically legitimate vamonos pest front and their own little meth empire. He didn’t put it in any exact words, but she got the message; don’t get too close, don’t get attached—don’t fuck this up.
Well. She would have been deterred if it weren’t for Todd’s ready reciprocation. There was no way to be certain, but it felt like he sought her out, too. And, being the bona fide open book he was, it couldn’t be any trick or delusion that led her to see a clear inclination towards her. It was this unnamed thing, between them; both recognized it, leaned into it, though this bubble that frustratingly held between them refused to pop.
She tags along with Jesse when they scope out a new house because he’s cool with her and doesn’t ask any more-than-casual questions about her intentions. She hops out of the passenger’s side rather keenly, dodging Walt’s distrustful look as she heads inside to find Todd. He’s verifying again what the property owners have already pledged to verify; shutting windows, checking locks, the sorts. She suspects he’s also always looking out for any threat to the flip side of their operation.
He watches her reflection pull up beside him in the dining room’s windows. “Hi,” he says, sounding slightly startled.
She grins. “Hey.”
He turns to face her and almost immediately ducks his head, sheepishly. “It’s nice to see you.”
“Yeah, you too,” she says. There are sounds of sudden movement coming from down the hallway. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to distract you from doing your job—”
“—No, you aren’t,” he quickly interjects. “Not at all.”
“Oh,” she says. “I’m glad.”
The corners of his lips quirk upwards, and he gestures vaguely to their surroundings. “Look, I’m almost done here; I was thinking—and, you know, it’s only if you want to, or you’re not busy—I was thinking we get a coffee, or something, after?”
She bites the inside of her cheek. “No, I’d really love to.”
“Oh, okay.” She watches him fidget with the lining of his rubber gloves. “That’s cool.”
___
Todd listens to some great music. Some truly great music.
They sit in companionable silence, him interjecting every once in a while to make small talk. But otherwise it’s very peaceful, very relaxing; she figures she could nod off like this if it weren’t such a short drive to the coffee shop they’re heading to.
The cell in Todd’s jacket pocket starts ringing as they pass through a green light. He gives a little sigh, and looks at her. “Do you mind if I take this? I think it’s my uncle,” he says, near apologetically.
“No, not at all—” she offers a smile in response—“go ahead.”
She doesn’t expect him to pull over to the side of the road, though, when he answers. She mulls over how well-disposed a criminal Todd is, respecting traffic laws and whatnot. She thinks about that while he speaks soft “Yes, Uncle Jack” and “Not a problem, Uncle Jack”s into his cell. Uncle Jack eventually hangs up and Todd slides the phone back into his pocket, breathing the same little sigh he had given before and apologizing obligingly to her.
“I really don’t mind, promise.” She smiles at him curiously, and evidently he catches onto the twinkle of fascination in her eyes.
“What is it?” She breathes a soft laugh. “It’s—it’s nothing really, just—it’s very good of you to not talk on the phone while you’re driving.”
He cocks his head at her. “Well, it’s the law, you know?”
She breaks first, her crooked, disarmed smile splitting into a grin as they both tumble into understated laughter. The childlike lilt to his giggling shouldn’t surprise her, but it does. It endears him further to her. Oh, how sweet he is, she thinks.
She’s not sure how much of that shows in her eyes, but it must be enough to give shy Todd the spike of confidence he needs to lean over the armrest between them and kiss her gingerly on the lips. It’s overwhelmingly sweet and she takes it in stride; letting her eyes drift closed and her lips move in time with his as though they’ve been doing this for years. But the pounding of her heart, the flutters of butterflies, the fresh electricity moving through her body—it’s all new, new and exciting.
Todd reaches a hand to grasp the upper part of her arm, thin fabric bunching between his fingers. Her own hands seem to imitate him of their own accord and she’s holding his face in her hands, thumbs brushing against his cheeks.
The little gasps they take for breath are short and scarce, still so close to each other as though nothing can make this brief parting worthwhile. Then she’s pulling herself towards him, hand over his shoulder to steady herself as she presses their bodies together against the confines of the car. He gives a little whine into her mouth, and her head goes dizzy, and—
The honking of a car whizzing past makes them both jump. Looking out the windshield, it becomes clear how out in the open they are, how surrounded by vehicles and pedestrians and traffic cameras, probably. The embarrassment is worth watching Todd shrink into himself, cheeks reddening and smile sheepish.
“I—” he clears his throat—“I have coffee at my place, too, if you wanna...?”
She readily agrees.
___
They don’t stop to drink any coffee, after all.
She doesn’t know who initiated it but as soon as they’re in Todd’s apartment, closed off from the outside world and overwhelmingly alone, they reach for each other. Todd has her pressed against the kitchen counter, and he slips his hand against her back as padding for where the marble cuts jarringly into her skin. Her lips move from his own to his jaw, and the hand he has running over her thigh and hip grips her tightly in sudden surprise and pleasure. She sucks harshly on the soft skin of his neck, then, and the noises he makes send a satisfied warmth through her body. She laps at the red marks, kisses them gently, let’s her hands slip under Todd’s t-shirt as he rolls his hips subconsciously against her.
The rise of her desire is profound and leisurely and utterly fulfilling. She giggles as she breaks from Todd, pushing him to lead her to the bedroom while keenly aware of the aching heat inside her. She backs him onto the bed, and he sits in front of her, looking up at her with dark pupils blown wide. He tugs at the hem of her shirt, and the message is clear; she strips herself of the blouse quickly and keens under his eyes and touch as he shows unrestrained fascination. His touch is cool as it runs along her waist, his gaze fiery with enamoured interest as he pursues his deeply curious, almost worshipping ministrations.
She clambers onto his lap, knees resting on the bed on either side of him. She rolls her hip gratuitously down onto him, pleasure spiking in her core in a way she’s certain is similar for him. They kiss, again, vibrations of moans between their lips. She tells him to take off his shirt and he does.
Somewhere along the way they fall backwards onto the mattress. She reaches a hand down between them, palms the hardness straining against his jeans until he breaks the kiss to lean his head back into a pillow, letting out audible little gasps that spur her on further. She latches onto his neck, reaching to undo his belt just as he tugs against the clasp of her bra.
Hurriedly they shed themselves of their clothing, her only climbing off of Todd to give him space to pull down his jeans. She pulls his boxers, then, sliding further down the bed so she can take his dick in her mouth fluidly. He lets out a low, drawn out moan, throwing his head once again back into the pillow. She gives a satisfied little hum. She flicks her tongue around the head, across the slit where beads of salty precum pool, and takes him further in her mouth. Her tongue drags along the underside of his dick while she suctions with her cheeks. He thrusts subconsciously up into her mouth and it’s really the only approval she needs.
She swallows around him, takes him further and she gags a couple of times but doesn’t pull off because of it. The pressure, he seems to enjoy, anyways. If she does come up for air she takes over with her hand, the other one drawing shapes on his hipbone where it rests.
“God, I...”
She flicks her eyes upwards at him, smiling around him despite herself at the concentrated look on his face, eyes shut tightly and hips thrusting erratically into her mouth. He looks lost, floating far above where she lies, grounded by the full heavy warmth in her mouth. His lips are pink and parted slightly. A bit selfishly, she pulls off of him with a pop and clambers up towards him so she can feel them properly against her own. He looks at her, dazed, until they’re joined together again and locking into the same rhythm.
When she feels the gentle tug of his fingers at the waistband of her panties, she pulls away to catch him looking up at her, eyes wide and questioning. Her nod is so slight she’s surprised he even caught it. He doesn’t ask for any more permission as he slips a finger inside her. She catches her breath as he moves slowly inside her, studying her face for every reaction she gives.
He slips a second finger in, moving faster as she holds tightly onto him to steady herself in the pulsing waves of arousal hitting her. She buries her face in the crook of his neck, reaches her own hand between them to jerk him off while he continues to finger her. His long fingers stretch her easily, striking again and again a spot deep inside her that makes heat bloom in her centre. “Todd,” she begs, voice muffled against him as she shudders, violently, in his grip.
“Let me fuck you,” he breathes. “Please.” The unrestrained want in his voice, the throbbing of his dick in her hand, she whines her acquiescence against his skin. “Yes, please.”
He flips them over so he can hold himself above her, propped on one elbow as he pulls her panties down her legs until she kicks them off herself. He positions himself until he’s prodding gently at her entrance, pushing slowly in and she gasps harshly. His own heavy breaths warm her lips as he watches her, part concern and part dazed arousal, with a blissful expression.
When he’s fully in he pauses, observing curiously how she shakes in pleasure over the fullness inside her. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice low and deliberate and she can see the restraint in his face, the desire to move and properly feel her around him. She nods, repeatedly. Pulls him down to kiss her as he starts pulling out, pushing back in, slowly and desperately begging for more. He picks up speed, spurred on by their joint desire and her right leg as it hooks around the back of his thigh.
She matches his newfound steady pace with the rolling of her hips, eagerly meeting his thrusts with soft cries over the dizzying pleasure of him striking deeply inside her. The hot flames that spread slowly from her core grow every second, with every moan and whisper he utters, the touch of his hands in her hair and his breath on her face. His eyes are shut, brows furrowed, lips parted, lovely and soft in his pleasure. She stretches upwards often to kiss any inch of skin her lips can find. That encourages him, he moves a little faster, a little more erratically, the stuttering of his hips heavy in anticipation against the flowering of her own climax. “Todd,” she whimpers. He groans in response.
Wrapping her other leg around him, she pulls him closer to her, and they both feel it; the electricity, the fire, the cascade, a genuine burning between both of them that has him pressing lips in her hair to muffle his groans. She wraps her arms tightly around him, the length of their bodies pressed together as he fucks her thoroughly.
The building pleasure is immense. She comes first, crying into the near quiet of the room as her legs shake around him and the hot pressure in her core bursts in drawn waves of rolling flames, spreading through her until her vision goes white with bliss. The suddenness of her climax, her tightening further around him, brings out a choked moan from his throat as well, and he pulls out quickly to finish himself off with his hand.
She feels the vibrations of his low groan against her hair as he comes after her, spitting warm streaks on her stomach as she’s still coming down from her own high. She shakily reaches a hand around the nape of his neck, and he collapses onto her, the warmth of his closeness and weight pressing into her calming her rapidly beating heart.
They stay like that for a few moments. She idly fingers the back of his hair and he, seemingly exhausted, rests his head against her in respite. When he finally pulls away from her, doing so rather regretfully, she beams at the quiet contentment on his face, the soft, shy pull of his lips into a smile and the ease in his eyes. She kisses him on the nose.
“Wow.” He laughs breathily, falling backwards beside her. She echoes him. “Yeah,” she says.
The remnants of his pleasure cool on her stomach and eventually grow uncomfortable, so begrudgingly she sits up and scans the room for her shirt.
“Oh,” Todd sits up quickly, noticing her dilemma, and leans over his side of the bed to pick up his own shirt. “Here.”
He puts a hand on her back, and she lets him apologetically dab the cum with the inside of his shirt. “I don’t want you to ruin your shirt,” he explains. “It’s real nice.”
It’s only mid afternoon and the sun casts a peaceful glow into the room. When she slides back down on the bed to rest, he smiles at her, pleased, and joins. The weight of his arm as it comes to wrap around her and pull her close is comfortingly protective, the proximity of their tired bodies a means for pure serenity she hasn’t dreamt of in a long while.
They drift into a dreamlike state of half-consciousness. She’s not sure how long they’ll rest for. She may, either way, still hold him to that earlier offer for coffee.