Work Text:
He was doing something inconsequential on his phone when a movement from her caught his eye. He couldn’t believe he’d let himself get so easily distracted, but then again, he hadn’t really been paying that close attention to what he’d been doing in the first place.
It was an inconspicuous thing that she’d done. A flick of her wrist. A small tilt of her head. And yet, once he caught a glimpse of it, he couldn’t help but stare. Teuta sat at the edge of her bed, cross-legged, her back bent in concentration. She went between furiously scribbling something in her new notebook and typing something on her laptop. He had given her the notebook for her birthday, and he had to admit, he felt pretty good that she was getting use out of it.
He kept watching. It was like he’d been hypnotized.
She tucked her hair behind her ear. She muttered to herself – most likely reading back what she’d just written. If he listened closely, he could just make out the words, but at that moment he chose not to. He’d rather read it when it was finished.
Not that he’d ever admit that he religiously read her work. Or that he even looked forward to it. Some things were simply best kept to himself.
She let out a slow sigh and scratched her head. She flicked her pen up and down. Her back expanded and contracted with each slow breath. His foot was right next to her. If he wanted to, he could prod her with it.
But, no. Let her concentrate.
Besides, he kind of wanted to keep watching her doing these very normal things. He was sure no one else ever got to see her like this – not even her closest friends.
It kind of made him feel like his guts were being run through a blender.
She stretched her arms above her head before settling them back down on her lap. He could tell she was getting to the end of what she was working on, because now she was re-reading every single sentence she committed to the page. She was going back and forth between the notebook and laptop less. He committed all of these motions to memory, because who knew when he’d get another chance to see them again?
It wasn’t exactly . . . healthy to think like that, was it?
He’d worry about it later.
A very (odd, uncharacteristic, unrealistic? unexpected?) feeling overcame him.
He (kind of, sort of, maybe, desperately) needed to kiss her. Like right now.
No, he had to wait. Be patient. She was almost done.
She bundled her hair into her fist for a moment before settling again. A few more hurried taps on the keyboard, one more read through, and then – “I’m done,” she said exasperatedly with yet another stretch.
“You sure?” he asked.
“Yep.”
He sat up, his fingers itching down to the tips. “Did you save it?”
“I did.” Teuta rolled her wrists before closing her notebook.
“Did you email it to yourself?”
“Yesssss.”
“And saved it to the flash drive?”
“That was the last thing I did before I declared I was done, so, yes.”
“Good.”
He reached over and closed her laptop. Teuta let out a small surprised noise which turned into a near shout when he pulled her down across his lap. He wound his arm along her back to hold her up so he could kiss her. She froze for a moment, clearly taken off guard, but then her hand rested on the back of his neck, pulling him closer, and he let her, his skin tingling from the contact.
When he pulled away, they were both slightly breathless (though he’d never admit that about himself in a hundred years). A slow blush painted her cheeks and a smile spread across her face.
“What was that for?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I’m not allowed to kiss you?”
Her mouth quirked. He felt compelled to kiss her again, but he wanted to hear what she had to say first. “I didn’t say that.” She looked away from him for a moment, embarrassment coloring her features. He almost couldn’t stand it. “It was nice,” she said begrudgingly.
His fingers absentmindedly traced over her cheeks, which were growing warmer by the second. It was nice. Maybe too nice? He felt a pit form in his stomach. Nice things tended to end badly. How many times had a gun been pointed in his face? Those moments had been nothing, had meant nothing. They were mere blips in his memory. Why was this – being with her – the scariest thing he’d ever done?
His mind was doing that thing again. That thing where he wanted to exit his own body and just watch what was going to happen, because surely it was going to be bad at some point.
Teuta flicked his forehead.
He blinked. “What was that for?”
“Where were you just now?”
“Huh?”
“You did that thing you usually do. Like you’re trying really hard to keep your poker face, but there’s something in your head that’s bothering you and you don’t want anybody to know.”
Jesus, had he been that obvious? This was terrifying. Scarier than getting shot. He felt himself nearly escape but then her hand rested on his.
She waited patiently for him, still wearing her smile, still looking at him like there was nothing else she’d rather see.
Scary as hell.
“I was just thinking that it isn’t fair your bed is twice as big as mine,” he said as casually as he could.
She propped herself up to sit on his lap, chuckling. “Well, you could always move into a different room.”
He knew that he wasn’t entirely off the hook. She was simply letting him have his space and his time. Later, she would ask again, maybe timidly. If he chose to answer her, it would be all right. If he chose to keep quiet, it would be all right.
A part of him didn’t trust it and he hated that.
He wound his arms around her like he wasn’t fully in control of his own body. “Too much effort.”
“Or you could move out of the house.”
“You that eager to get rid of me?”
She laughed. “You have a bigger closet and I want it.”
“Not happening.”
“You could always . . . um . . .” Her face suddenly became so red that it nearly glowed. It was practically unbearable.
“What?”
“Um. Nothing.”
“Mm. I don’t believe you.”
Her face scrunched up from embarrassment. She was too much. He tapped her nose. “Tell me,” he prodded.
She made a little grumbling noise, squirming in his lap. Without meeting his eyes, she said quickly, “You could always stay here.”
His breath caught for a second.
She kept talking, fidgeting with her hands, which meant she had either ignored his reaction or didn’t even notice it at all. “I mean, if you want to. I know you like your space, so, it’s not a big deal if you’d rather not. And, you know, I might snore or something, so –”
“Do you want me to stay?”
She pressed her lips together. Her ears were turning red. Unbearable. “Maybe.”
“I’m gonna need a more definite answer.”
She finally met his eyes, if only for a second. She said it so quietly he almost didn’t catch it. “Yes.”
“OK. Then I will.”
“Are you sure?”
“You trying to back out of it?”
“No. I just don’t want to hear you complain if you can’t sleep tonight.”
“Heh. Don’t worry about me. I’ve slept in worse conditions.”
She gave him a withering look. “You’re lucky I like you so much.”
“Just like?” He braced himself. For what, he wasn’t exactly sure.
She shrugged and offered him another smile as warm as her skin. “I’m letting you invade my space tonight, aren’t I?”
~
They cooked lasagna together for dinner.
The time was 6pm. By now, he would have shoved a handful of mixed nuts into his mouth and called it a night, because who had time for things like dinner when other, more important matters were calling? Tonight, though . . . Well, almost every night, he agreed to help her learn how to cook.
He had to admit, it was hard to understand her reasoning. She wasn’t good at it by any means, and even watching her do something as simple as stirring a pot of boiling noodles made him sweat. But she was determined. He guessed he couldn’t fault her for that.
He could tell she took it very seriously, too. The look of pure concentration on her face as she carefully measured the spices would have made him laugh if he didn’t already know that this meant something to her. She insisted on putting the baking dish in the oven, insisted on checking the timer every ten seconds like her life depended on it. He could tell she was nervous. And he was sure it wasn’t just about whether or not the food would taste good.
He allowed himself to gingerly place his hands on her shoulders. She didn’t flinch like he half expected her to. Instead, she settled, allowing her body to softly bump against him. Which, in turn, allowed him to wrap his arms around her and pull her back against his chest. She let him hold her for the last five minutes of the lasagna baking. The scent of melted cheese and tomato sauce filled the kitchen.
If he had committed to his old life, he would have missed this.
Not even just this. He would have missed the way her eyes lit up when she took the first bite and the way her voice sounded when she declared it delicious. (It wasn’t a masterpiece by any means, but between two people who were not professionally trained chefs, it was good enough for what it was.) He would have missed the easy conversation carried through dinner and the way she laughed at his jokes and the way she dished out some of her own. He would have never been able to quietly do the dishes with her afterward or the look of satisfaction on her face as she scrubbed off the leftover sauce that stained her dinner plate.
These things would have been nonevents before. Boring, meaningless. And yet, when she asked him if he wanted to share her ice cream and watch a movie he said yes without hesitating. The last movie he had ever watched before was Calamity Jane. After, he had watched so many. And some of them were long. Like more than two hours long. Like this almost feels like wasting time long. Regardless, he would always sit through the whole thing. Especially if he was watching one with Teuta.
She nestled against him, a large tub of ice cream in her lap. Wordlessly, they passed the spoon back and forth to each other. He was only half paying attention to the movie, which, admittedly, was a little shitty of him. She liked talking about what they saw afterwards, and he knew this time he’d fail spectacularly. But he couldn’t stop looking down at her, at the way she was so relaxed and content – at least until some plot twist or big reveal happened. He focused on her weight against him.
Her gaze slowly lifted to meet his.
Shit.
“Is there something on my face?” She asked, one eyebrow raised, wearing a sly smile.
He did the typical thing when he was backed into a corner; he acted quickly. “Not yet.” The spoon was currently in his possession, a small glob of ice cream on it. He swiped it against her cheek. She yelled magnificently, trying to push away but he had her locked against him.
“You jerk!” She said between a fit of laughter.
He licked the ice cream off her cheek, eliciting another yell of protest from her. (It really should not have tasted as good as it did; a sweet and salty mixture he couldn’t help but indulge in.) She gave him a sour expression.
“You’re blushing,” he said.
She made a noise of annoyance and grabbed hold of the tub. “No more ice cream for you,” she said.
“That’s not fair.” He tried to grab the tub out of her hands, but she kept holding it out of reach. Soon they were wrestling for control – over ice cream of all things.
The spoon fell to the floor with a clatter somewhere. He needed both hands for this. She was surprisingly making this tricky for him.
He stuck two of his fingers into the very cold ice cream, intending to smear her face with it again.
She grabbed his hand and stuck said fingers in her mouth.
(Her mouth was warm, and sweet Jesus that was her tongue and --)
He died.
“Ha!” Teuta declared when she released him. She turned around to face him with a look of smug satisfaction on her face, unaware that she had literally killed him.
He was very aware that his fingers were wet.
He kinda (very much, without a doubt, needed to) turn the movie off.
“Do you surrender?” she asked in a tone that suggested her mind wasn’t in the same space as his. He didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved. Either way, something was stuck in his throat and his mind was in a scramble to find something else to latch on to.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “I surrender.”
~
They briefly separated to their respective rooms to shower and change. Shu found himself lingering in the shower for a bit, not trying to erase the memory of her mouth on him, but more like trying to distract himself from it.
The house was dark and very quiet. Even Crow’s many computers were shut off. Rather than turning the lights on, he used his phone as a flashlight to walk down the hallway to Teuta’s room. He was a little unsure of what to do when he came face to face with her closed door. It felt a little weird to knock but he did it anyway. He technically was invading her space after all.
“Uh – come in!” Teuta called, and he did not miss the hint of nervousness in her voice.
He stepped in to see her standing there, wearing an oversized T-shirt and pajama bottoms. (He was a little disappointed that her legs were covered, but, whatever.) Her hair was still a little damp from the shower. When she saw him, she froze, like she’d been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to. The tips of her ears reddened like they’d been burned.
“Oh, come on!” Her unexpected yell made him flinch.
“What?”
“I –” She paused, flustered. “Are you serious right now?”
He didn’t know what to say. What the hell is going on?
“You’re wearing that to bed?” she asked, pointing at him.
He looked down at himself. He didn’t think he was wearing anything ridiculous.
She crossed her arms. “Exposing your arms like that? Unfair.”
“I—What?”
She sighed. “You have to know how attractive you are, right? When we walk down the street together, all these girls stare at you, and then their eyes find me and they give me this look like, What the hell? And I’m like, I know, right? It’s crazy. It’s insane! Honestly? I feel sorry for them.”
“Honestly? I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Well, that’s fine. I’m just saying you can’t just wear stuff like that and expect me to just not react.”
“OK?”
“OK.”
There was a very long (painful) pause before Teuta declared, “I’m, um, going to lie down, now.” Her eyes darted between him and the bed as she made her way towards it.
“Hey, if you’re not comfortable –”
She stopped moving. “No, no. It’s not – I’m not . . .” She closed her eyes for a moment. “I’m glad you’re staying here. At least for tonight.”
I can stay here as many nights as you want, was on the tip of his tongue. He chose not to say it. The last thing he wanted to do was rush. “Guess I’ll lie down, too.”
They both got in bed on different sides after pulling the blankets back. (Why did she sleep with so many blankets?) There was a gap between them, one he was (very) eager to close, but he kept right where he was.
Teuta flicked the lights off.
It was quiet again. This time, it was a little less painful. There was something warm in the air between them, however, and it was growing more insistent the longer time passed, but neither of them moved.
“Well, um, good night,” Teuta said brightly.
“Yeah, ‘night.”
She rolled over and settled against the pillow with a soft sigh.
Shu was too restless to try and fall asleep. He didn’t want to be on his phone and he didn’t want to be anywhere else, either. He watched her body slowly rise and fall with each breath. Strands of her damp hair clung to the (very tempting) curve of her neck.
Teach would not have liked her.
Not because Teach would have thought she was a bad person. No. It would have been because Teuta was a distraction. Teach would have said he couldn’t afford distractions. Teach would have told him to get rid of her.
And he would have told her that he couldn’t.
Not because he wanted to disobey Teach. But because there was something more powerful keeping him rooted here with Teuta. Something he was only barely beginning to understand himself.
The thought of getting rid of her hurt more than a bullet to the back of his head.
He held his breath when Teuta shifted. She rolled over, facing him.
She was wide awake.
“You’re not asleep?” she asked, incredulous.
He was so taken off guard by her question that he couldn’t even laugh. “That was, what, thirty seconds? You think people fall asleep that fast?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know how you sleep.”
“It takes me longer than thirty seconds, that’s for sure.”
Her mouth quirked, her eyes cast down. “Do you think it’s weird that we haven’t done this until now?”
“I didn’t until you said something. Do you think it’s weird?”
She chuckled. “A little. I would have asked you earlier, but I was nervous.”
“About what?”
Her eyes met his again and she shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve had a crush on you for forever, and it just blows my mind that you’re here with me. That we’re, you know, a thing.”
He had to admit (not to her) that sometimes he felt the same. His mouth curved up in an involuntary smile.
“What’s going on in that head of yours right now?” Teuta asked.
“Hmm. Mostly wanting you to elaborate on that whole ‘had a crush on me for forever’ thing you just admitted. How long ago was that?”
“Oh, no!” She buried her head under the blankets and he promptly removed them. “It’s embarrassing!”
“Now I definitely want to hear about it.”
“Ugh.”
He dared to poke the very tip of her nose. “Tell me.”
“Mm. Well . . . OK, did you have a crush on me?”
Oh, Jesus. “Maybe.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
“I said maybe. Besides, we’re not talking about me right now. We’re talking about you. And your schoolgirl crush.”
She gave him a withering look. “I’ll only tell you about mine if you tell me about yours.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. How dangerous would it be to admit to that particular story? He stared at her eager expression and honestly couldn’t help himself. “All right. Deal. But you go first.”
“OK.” She fiddled with her fingers, looking everywhere in the semi darkness but at him. “OK, well . . . I always found you attractive. Those arms and those eyes? My God, it was like you were made in a factory or something.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
“But, I started having a crush on you when . . . Ugh, I can’t believe I’m admitting this right now.” She let out a long sigh. “It started when you taught me the coin toss trick.”
He definitely wasn’t expecting that answer. “That’s it?”
“Yeah.”
“Why then?”
Her cheeks were growing red, her finger fiddling increasing. “Because you didn’t laugh at me or belittle me. You took the time to teach me about it. And, I don’t know, but I found that really nice. That you would go out of your way to do that. It was like I saw a different side to you, and I realized that was just how you are. I liked what I saw. So, yeah, that’s my really embarrassing answer.”
He couldn’t wipe the grin from his face if he tried. “That wasn’t so bad.”
“Anyway, it’s your turn, now. How long have you had a crush on me?”
“Since I saw you in that swimsuit, duh.”
Teuta rolled her eyes and he laughed. “Of course,” she said in exasperation.
“Nah, I’m kidding. That wasn’t it.” Though he admittedly had her bare legs seared into his memory ever since. “Here’s the real story.”
It was a normal morning, when she first started living with them. As he got up and headed to the dining area to start his normal routine, he had almost forgotten that she was staying in the house, so he was a bit startled to see her sitting at the table with her laptop opened, a cup of coffee on one side and her old notebook on the other. He didn’t get a chance to say anything, not that he really had anything to say to her.
She looked up from what she was doing. Maybe she’d heard his footsteps, he wasn’t sure, but her eyes landed directly on him and she smiled wide and bright. She gave a little wave and said, “Good morning.”
And then she returned to her work like nothing happened at all.
Like the image of her bare legs in that swimsuit, he couldn’t stop thinking about this normal interaction. At some point he realized that it was because it was simply that: normal. He didn’t need to do anything to earn her recognition or her kindness. She had willingly given it to him and asked for nothing in return.
It was silent between them again, and he had to admit he felt a little nervous now. He wondered if maybe this story was kinda stupid and he should have kept it to himself –
“Aw, shucks,” she said.
. . .
What?
“Did you just say, Aw shucks?” he asked.
“Y-yeah, so?”
He couldn’t contain his laughter. His shoulders shook from it. She gave him another withering look and it only made him laugh harder.
She was absolutely insane. But what did it say about him that he loved her as much as he did?
“What? I’m not allowed to say that?” she asked, indignant.
He reached for her and pulled her against him. His cheek rested against the top of her head while hers was pressed against his chest. He knew she could feel his heart beating against her and he didn’t care. It was like they fit together like this. He could smell the slight orange tang from her shampoo. Her hands were flat on his back, and he could feel their warmth spreading through him slow and even.
They stayed like that for a little while. He didn’t bother counting the seconds.
Teuta piped up softly. “Um . . . do you want to talk about what was on your mind earlier?”
It took him a moment to figure out exactly what she was asking, and in that time she kept on talking. “I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought . . .” He waited for her to continue. “I’m not trying to fix anything and I don’t always know if I can help or if there’s anything I can do or say. But I want to be here for you if you need it. Or when you need it.”
. . . Oh.
He knew he had to respond somehow. But how could he when it felt like his chest was being ripped open? How could she do this to him?
Now, this wasn’t fair.
He gave himself a minute. Then three more. Finally, he pulled back, his fingers delicately pushing her chin up so she would look at him directly and –
He completely forgot what he was going to say.
Her eyes were something else.
Like that morning she had looked up at him with that smile of hers, his mind unhelpfully produced the thought:
She’s beautiful.
His fingers traced along her jaw before he leaned in to kiss her.
It was slow and soft. He gave himself three minutes. Or at least he thought he did, it was kind of hard to keep track of time when he felt her clinging to him the way she did. He pulled back, this time with every intention of giving her a better response, but at this point he was pretty much powerless against his own impulses, and so he found himself kissing her again. His tongue coaxed her mouth open. His arms pulled her closer.
She draped her leg over him, and that was all he needed to roll her on her back and pin her beneath him. One of his hands was entwined with hers while the other slowly slid under her shirt to feel her hot skin.
She gasped and he broke away. An apology was about to spill out of his mouth, but he wasn’t in the habit of lying to her. He wasn’t sorry at all.
She was breathing kinda hard and he swore her face was glowing in the dark.
She was clearly about to say something, but he reacted first. “I want to know what else you like,” he said.
She gave him a quizzical look. “Um . . . I like food. And ice cream. Kittens are nice. The color red is my jam. Let’s see, what else? Reading books. Writing my articles. Oh, and I guess I like you, too, but the jury’s still out on that one.” She smiled mischievously at him.
She got a chuckle out of him, even though the last thing he wanted to do was make jokes. Not when his body was currently settled between her legs. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”
Teuta looked around nervously again. She bit her lip. “I know. I guess I’m just curious as to why you want to know.”
“Is that something I shouldn’t know?”
“It’s not that.” She squirmed a little under his stare. “It’s just nobody has ever really asked me that before. It’s not something I’ve put much thought into, I guess.”
“What about now?”
“Now I’m a little more curious. You didn’t exactly give me an answer.”
“You’re right, I didn’t.”
“So are you going to tell me? Or do I have to force it out of you?”
When exactly did she gain the upper hand here? Just a second ago she was a nervous wreck, and now she was causing his stomach to do backflips. Was she aware of how powerless she made him feel sometimes? The unfairness continued. Her fingers were drawing lazy circles beneath his shoulder blade.
He was (very, absolutely, without a doubt) sorely tempted to find out what exactly she was going to do to force it out of him. But he could always save that for another time. A time that wasn’t now, when he felt like he was seconds away from bursting out of his skin.
He had no idea how he was able to speak, let alone form a complete sentence. “How about this? You give me ten minutes to help you figure out the answer to my question and then I’ll tell you everything you want to know.” A risky wager, to be sure, but this was worth it.
She was worth it.
Her eyes narrowed. She shifted a little, causing her inner thigh to brush against his hip. (She had to know what she was doing, right?) “Your answers better be good. Ten minutes is a long time.”
“In the grand scheme of things, ten minutes is nothing.”
“The grand scheme, eh?”
“Yeah.”
“How are you going to keep track of time?”
“I’m a human timer.”
She gave him a skeptical look.
“How else do you think I’m good at what I do?”
She seemed to concede at that answer, at least. “What do you get out of it?”
“Knowledge.”
Her mouth twisted with uncertainty. He wanted to bite her lip.
“Look, you don’t have to say yes. We don’t have to do anything. We can just –”
“OK.”
He waited for a moment. “OK what?”
“I mean OK. I’ll give you ten minutes. If that’s all you want.” She smiled wryly up at him.
It wasn’t, but he would take whatever she was willing to give. “Great.” He kissed her again, just like before. He almost forgot to breathe, that’s how focused he was on the way her mouth felt and the way she tasted. The way she arched slightly into his hand as it roamed under her shirt. All these little details he committed to memory and begged time not to steal this from him as it had cruelly stolen so many other moments.
He didn’t know how he managed to pull away. At some point he had to remind himself what the goal was, here. “Did you like that?” he asked. He considered staying calm while his heart was pounding relentlessly to be a special talent of his.
She gave him an incredulous look, even while she was panting something fierce. They both had their own things they were good at, he guessed. “Do you really have to ask me that?”
“Yeah.”
“You should know.”
“I don’t like to assume anything.”
She grumbled.
He prodded. “So? Did you?”
She made her voice as small as humanly possible. “Yes.”
“OK.” He freed his hand from hers to turn her head to the side. He nibbled on her earlobe and she squirmed even harder, her legs tightening their hold around him.
“N-not that,” she said. “That tickles too much.”
He stopped what he was doing. He lifted her chin up to kiss down the length of her neck. Her pulse thrummed wildly against his mouth. She made some kind of small noise of content followed by a warm sigh that made the muscles in his stomach tighten. He slid his hand to her shoulder and pulled the shirt down to expose her skin. He gently bit down –
“W-wait!”
He immediately stopped to look at her.
“Um . . .” She took a moment to catch her breath. “I l-like it. I do. It’s just I – I can’t have any marks above my shoulders? Um, I still have to look professional. Can’t have anybody staring, you know?”
She didn’t really need to explain, but he was a little relieved that her reasoning had nothing to do with him at all. “Guess I’ll have to find some other place to mark you then,” he murmured.
“O-oh, ok, um –”
“Roll over.”
“W-wha –”
“Please?” It was important to be polite after all.
He knew she was still confused, but she obliged him. (Painfully, reluctantly) he moved to lie beside her and pulled her shirt up to expose her back to him. His hands traced the knuckles of her spine and he planted kisses when the moment struck him. She shivered though her skin was so hot it was liable to burn him. In fact, the heat was making him feel a little delirious, but not once did it occur him to completely stop yet.
His hands clung to the edges of her shirt. “Would you like it if I took this off?” he whispered.
Once again he waited patiently for her. He would wait all night if that was what it took. She nodded. “Yes.”
So he did. Once it was over her head, he tossed it somewhere and positioned himself above her again. He couldn’t stop his hands from wandering, from taking in every curve and dip and part of her. He took in every shuddered breath that escaped from between her lips. Her eyes were shut, but her expression told him she was fully reveling in the moment.
When she opened her eyes, there was a ravenous look in them. One he was sure mirrored his own. Her hands wormed their way under his own shirt and, after the initial shock, he found himself relaxing against her touch.
“It’s only fair,” she said as she pulled his shirt up.
Were they still playing this game? He supposed that was fine. He helped her get his shirt off and tossed that aside, too. He pressed his body against hers, his fingers dancing at the edge of her sides while hers dug into his back.
“I like feeling you like this,” she whispered. And, OK, if they were still playing this whatever game, she was (absolutely) winning.
He would have said, Me, too, if he could remember how to talk. He would have admitted that he lied to her about the time limit. It probably wasn’t going to take ten minutes. He kissed her clavicle, careful not to scrape his teeth on her skin. His put his mouth on her nipple, and this time he was sure she made a sound. Her hips bumped against his, spurring him on, his thumb rolling over the other one while his lips were occupied. She trembled and writhed beneath him, her nails biting into his skin and he sincerely hoped that she would leave a mark of some kind.
He pulled back after an undisclosed amount of time because, well, he still had a goal, even if it was getting harder to remember it. “What about that?”
“Are you really going to ask me after every little thing?” she asked, exasperated.
“Yeah.”
“My reactions aren’t enough?”
“I told you I don’t like to assume anything.”
“I feel like I’m losing my mind. Is that enough of an answer for you?”
“Maybe.” He dragged his tongue along her nipple, causing her to cry out again. “Maybe I just like hearing you say it.”
She looked him right in the eyes. “I do like it. But . . .”
He dragged his tongue again. “But?”
“I . . . I-I would probably like it more if we were both naked.”
How on earth could he say no to that? He obliged her without protest, tossing the clothes away like they meant nothing. Getting to see her bare legs again nearly sent him into a spiral. His fingers teased along her outer thighs up to her hips, which twitched against his hands.
She’s beautiful, he thought yet again, not for the first time and mostly likely not for the last.
“What about this?” he asked. “Do you like when I touch you like this?”
In response, she reached down between his legs and grabbed a hold of him. Not too firm or too tight, but enough to have him biting back whatever uncharacteristic noise wanted to slip between his teeth. Her hand was so goddamn soft, and with each motion, she was slowly but surely stealing the breath right out of his lungs.
And that look on her face.
She knew.
That was fine. He knew how to get his revenge.
He wrestled out of her grip and kissed down the length of her body. Warm blood bloomed under her skin, rising to meet his lips like every part of her was trying to kiss him back. He drew a slow circle around her navel with the tip of his tongue. She released a long deep sigh as if she’d been holding her breath the entire time.
He spread her legs and ran his hand along her inner thigh. The higher he roamed, the more tense she became, and he knew exactly what she was anticipating.
But he had other ideas.
He stroked his thumb along a particular spot on her thigh. “Would you like it if I marked you here?”
“I – u-um.” Her muscles clenched under his hand. “Yes.”
“OK.” Then he bit down, not hard enough to hurt too much, but enough that his teeth would be imprinted on her skin. He ran his tongue along the ridges he created to soothe the sting. Her entire body shook, her hands fisted the sheets, and when she moaned he could feel it reverberate in his ribs. Even though she was so close already, his hands gripped her leg tightly against him. He hoped that whenever she would look down at herself that she would remember this moment, and it would paint her cheeks as red as the mark he was surely leaving.
When he pulled back, his ragged breathing matched hers, and it ghosted softly over the spot on her thigh. He tenderly kissed it, and then kissed upwards, almost to the spot that pulsed like a heartbeat. His hand hovered just over it; so tempted to touch, yet resisting because he wanted to pace himself, even though his body was relentlessly begging for her.
“Do you want me to kiss you here?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
She squirmed yet again. “I, um . . . I don’t know. I don’t want to be too loud.”
“There’s nobody here,” he reminded her.
“I-I know. But I don’t want it to be too embarrassing.”
“What if I said I want to hear you? I want to hear how loud I can make you.”
“U-um. Why?”
“Because I want to make you feel good.”
“O-oh.”
She still hadn’t answered him. “Do you want me to stop?”
She paused. When she spoke her voice was small but firm. “No.”
“Then what say you?”
Another pause. This one shorter than the last. “OK. Just, I, um – Oh, God.”
She melted on his tongue.
Her back arched – and she was loud. It was the best sound he’d ever heard. She squealed when he hummed against her and almost completely writhed away from him when he pushed his tongue in as far as he could. He grabbed onto her ass and pulled her back where she belonged, holding her in place so she couldn’t escape. She undulated beneath him and he helped her ride that high for as long as he could.
She draped her leg over his shoulder. The heel of her foot dug into his back. Her body tensed around him, winding up so tight, he knew it was only a matter of time before she –
“St-stop!”
He backed off. “You OK?”
“Y-yeah. Yeah, I –” Her hand was on her chest, eyes closed. She took a moment to catch her breath. He wondered if he’d done too much too fast. “I just want to feel you close to me,” she whispered.
Denying her of that was the last thing he wanted to do, even though he was sorely tempted to finish what he started. He crawled back on top of her, pressing down as hard as he could while still leaving her room to breathe. Her heart thrummed wildly against his chest.
He slid into her, slowly, slowly, slowly, taking all the time he could so he could feel all of it, keeping his eyes on her as she opened her mouth with a loud gasp. She was warm and wet and soft and she was tightly clinging to him. A spark of heat shot through his nerves up to his throat where he released a low groan against her collarbone. Their hips scraped against each other like they were trying to start a fire.
Someone had once told him (or maybe he’d read it somewhere; now wasn’t exactly the time to try and remember that sort of thing) that sex was better when you were in love. He had laughed at that because that sounded so stupid. What difference did it make when it was just two bodies grinding against each other? It was just something to do to pass the time, or so he had once believed.
Whoever had imparted that knowledge was absolutely right.
It had never been this intense or all consuming. It had never made him feel like his blood vessels were bursting under his skin like fireworks. Not once did he even shudder from anyone else’s touch.
Until he’d been with her.
Teuta’s body shuddered violently around him. He swallowed her “Oh,” with a kiss. He was gripping her so tight that he was worried that he was hurting her, but he couldn’t let go. Not now. Not yet. Not when she was so close and he felt so close to her. Not while she still wanted him like this.
A slow, feverish shiver worked its way up his back as a white hot pressure spread through his body, almost like a poison. He laced their fingers together, desperate to hold on, even though he knew it couldn’t last as long as they both may have wanted. His free hand drifted down between her legs, finding the spot that made her shut her eyes and cry out. And then she was shuddering and shuddering and shuddering around him.
He shattered.
He felt as though she had physically speared her fingers into his chest and yanked out his heart, exposing all the parts of him he wanted to keep hidden and all the parts he didn’t.
~
It took a long time to get into the shower. He was too busy kissing her as they stumbled almost drunkenly into it. Not even the water falling into his eyes could get him away from her.
It took a long time to get out of the shower, too. Because he had to hear her make those sounds at least one more time, had to feel her tremble and cling to him so she wouldn’t fall.
Eventually, they returned to Teuta’s bed, breathless and spent. Her head was on his chest and his fingers were weaving in her hair. He found himself drifting off to sleep when her voice called him back. He didn’t quite hear what she said the first time.
“Huh?”
She laughed softly. “I said, I’m pretty sure I gave you more than ten minutes.”
Oh, right. He had promised, hadn’t he?
Her hand found his in the dark. “You don’t have to tell me, you know,” she said. “I can wait until you’re ready. Or if you don’t feel comfortable telling me anything. I just want to make sure you’re OK.”
“After all that, I’m the best I’ve ever felt.”
She lightly punched him as he laughed.
“OK, OK. I’m fine. I promise.” He took a deep breath. He’d never admitted this next part to anyone. He wasn’t even sure if this was a good idea. But if he couldn’t tell her, then he supposed he really couldn’t tell anyone. “For so long I’ve lived my life as just passing time until the next thing I had to do came around. There were so many hours in a day, so many days until the next thing, and I realize that I wasn’t exactly doing any of that living stuff properly.” His fingers traced along hers. “I don’t want it to be like that with you. I wanna learn all these things about you and take the time to appreciate them. That’s why I asked. And that’s what I was thinking about. I don’t want you to go running off because I’m still trying to work all this out, you know?”
She was very quiet, but she hadn’t pulled away and she hadn’t laughed at him.
He kept talking. It seemed like the only thing he knew how to do in the moment. “I don’t need you to help fix anything. I just need you to keep being who you are, and being here. If you want to be.”
He felt her smiling against him.
“Let me guess,” he said, breaking the small silence, “you were gonna to say, Aw, shucks again, weren’t you?”
“No,” she said indignantly. Then, “Maybe.”
He couldn’t stop laughing.