"Take me apart," he says. He is certain that Taylor won't be able to eviscerate him the way he really needs. Only one person has ever been able to do that, and he just fired her. So all he can do to try to make himself feel better is hope that he can be humiliated on live television, just so he can feel something other than numb.
He feels nothing, all the fucking time.
She's nowhere to be found, after the broadcast. Taylor scored a few points against him, but with Mac in his ear he feels like nothing can touch him. He can't let her go. He hurries through the newsroom, oblivious to everyone around him, and dials Lonny, hoping that the car will be there when he makes it to the street.
"Are you all right?" Lonny looks at him worriedly as he climbs in to the Escalade.
"Sure, I- take me to Mackenzie's apartment, would you?"
"Are you sure? You look like hell."
He glances in the visor mirror and is surprised to see how haggard his face is. He just nods, and Lonny doesn't ask any more questions, maneuvering them towards Midtown.
It's three in the morning, and the journey seems eternal despite the lack of traffic. Lonny parks, and Will can't get out of the car fast enough. He rings the buzzer and tries to smile at the doorman, who he doesn't recognize.
"McAvoy, if you run off again I'm going to have to make you ride in the back with the kiddie locks," Lonny said.
"You don't need to come up, I'm fine-"
"No way man. The building's not secure. If she lets you in, I'm coming too."
He jabs the buzzer again, angrily. After a few long moments, her voice crackles through the intercom.
"Hello?"
"Mac. It's me. Please, we have to talk."
She doesn't answer him right away. It's at least a minute before she buzzes them in, and Will almost cries in relief. Lonny leads the way up the stairs, but Will thinks he's going far too slowly. When they finally reach her open door, Lonny insists that he wait in the hall.
"Mackenzie, it's Lonny, I hope you don't mind, but I need to come in first and secure the apartment."
"Come in, Lonny, thank you." She comes to the door and stares at Will, exhaustion written all over her face. He's never seen anyone so beautiful.
Lonny appears behind Mackenzie. "All clear," he says. "I'll be in the hall."
"Thanks, Lonny," Will says quietly, never taking his eyes off of Mackenzie. "Mind if I come in?"
She drops her gaze and steps back, making room for him in the doorway. She shuts the door behind him. He's only seen her like this once before, her face drawn and grey, timid. He couldn't bear it then, and he left because he was so angry at her, and didn't see her again for three years.
"You can't fall on the sword like this. I can't let you." She's only an arm's length away, but it feels like an impassable chasm. He can see her retreating in to herself, closing off all access, and he wishes she would listen. "This isn't your fault, and I can't live with myself for firing you."
"I can't live with myself for a lot of things." Her weary voice is full of bitterness.
"Please," he says. He isn't above begging, not when she's involved. "Please don't leave."
She's quiet for a long time, but a few tears escape down her cheeks and he wants so terribly to brush them away. He doesn't know what else to say. Everything in his mind is such a mess, and everything in his heart would be too painful for both of them.
"I can't ever get your trust back now," she whispers, barely audible.
"You have it. You've had it for a long time now," he says. "This guilt is going to kill you, Mac. It isn't your fault."
She's crying freely now, and all he wants is to envelop her in his arms.
"You should hate me."
"No. No, I can't. I could never hate you, and believe me, I've tried."
"How can you be so fucking perfect?" She sobbed. "You're the perfect man, and I've ruined everything again-"
He can't take it any more, and wraps his arms around her, tucking his face in to her hair. He drops a soft kiss on the top of her head and he can feel the dampness of her tears against his chest. He holds her tighter as she shudders, wracked with sobs.
"You're perfect, Mac. You haven't ruined anything. You're perfect. You are." He rocks them back and forth, wishing with every fiber of his being that she will listen. His words are like a mantra, and he would say them for the rest of his life if it would make her smile again. It's been too long since she's been happy.
Slowly, she relaxes against him, breathing deeply now and twining her arms about his waist. He's missed this so much, just being close to her, and he worries that he's holding on too long but he doesn't care. He needs her in his life, by his side where she's always belonged.
He pulls back just a little bit so that he can see her face now, and smooths her hair back off of it. "I wish you could see how perfect you are. You don't deserve to be unhappy. You don't deserve all the punishment you're trying to exact on yourself."
"I do, though. I never deserved you, but I do deserve this."
Oh, god. "No." This beautiful woman, this stunning, vibrant, brilliant woman, has never realized how much she matters. Will cannot stand the idea that she feels unworthy of having everything she wants. "Mac, you're everything to me. I- I love you. I never stopped loving you."
Her eyes are wide, and her mouth is open just a little bit and when she speaks, her voice is clear. "I didn't want to let myself be in love with you. But I am. I love you so much." All he can do is stare. Her upturned face is softer now, with color beginning to return to her cheeks. He dips his head down to kiss her, and the gentle brush of her lips against his feels like the warmth of the sun after years of wintry cold.
"Will," she breathes, knotting her fingers in the stiff cotton of his shirt. She slants her head to the right just so, and everything falls in to place. It's been so long, but he still remembers what kissing her is like. She tastes like coffee and peppermint. She can't help but catch his lip with her front teeth. She holds her breath sometimes. Occasionally she hums softly in the back of her throat, and her hands are never still. Thank god some things never change.
He never wants to stop kissing her. She's his lifeline, always has been. He tries to draw her in closer, but the laws of physics prevent this even as she clutches at his shoulders. The kiss is searing, and her hands swarm all over his back and his sides and he cannot get enough of the taste of her or the heat of her mouth.
Panting, they pull back for just a moment. Her eyes are bright, and her quiet smile is incandescent. He's stroking his fingers up and down her arm, and soon she manages to catch them in her own. Bringing his hand up between them, she kisses his knuckles first, then touches her lips to his palm with such tenderness that he fears he might just die.
"Stay with me tonight, Billy," she whispers against his palm. When their eyes meet it is electrifying. He frames her face with both hands and just kisses her, pouring himself in to her as the whole world disappears. Her delicate hands grasp his wrists and hold him there, but he isn't going anywhere and he tells her so.
"God, I love you," he says, resting his forehead against hers.
"I love you too." She lets go of his arms and tucks her thumbs in to his waistband, just resting her hands on his hips. He sneaks the collar of her shirt open just a little more, so that he can lay a kiss against her collarbone. Her gasp is so achingly familiar.
"I need to tell Lonny that he's off duty," he says, resting his forehead on her shoulder. "Then I'm all yours."
"It's like having a chaperone," she says nervously. He reaches for his phone and sends Lonny a quick text, and he tries not to feel like he's in high school again. It would have been easier without the smileys he got as a reply. Oh well. He shows her the message, and she blushes so adorably he has to laugh. "I'm definitely going to have to avoid him for a few days," she says.
He kisses her again, and it's unbelievable how much more intense it is. Her whole body is pressed against him, and hot tendrils of desire are weaving their way down his torso to his groin. Their mouths are sloppier now, crashing together again and again like waves on the shore. Her breath is hot against his face and the way she smells is beginning to drive him crazy. He's never wanted anyone so much.
Clever fingers are unbuttoning his shirt. He manages to find the zip at the side of her skirt, and soon she is stepping out of it as it lies in a puddle on the floor. She's pushing his shirt off of his shoulders, and he lets go of her long enough to shrug out of it completely. Her hands rake up his chest, brushing through the dusting of hair there, and his knees go weak. His trousers are becoming uncomfortably tight.
She kisses down his neck to the center of his chest, and her fingers slide up and down his sides before finding his nipples and rubbing them gently. "Fuck, Mac," he groans. Her lips roam back up his sternum and nibble along his collarbone, homing in on the spot near his shoulder that begins to turn him in to an incoherent mess. He sneaks his hand underneath her shirt and lays his hands on her back, needing to feel her smooth skin.
She crooks one leg around his, stretching up to press their hips together. Her hipbone grazes against his hardening cock and he gasps and tries to pull her closer. She kisses her way back up his neck, meeting his lips again with such passion that he's amazed that they don't spontaneously combust.
When she pulls away a moment later he is bereft. He imagines that the outline of her body is etched against his and he feels a chill without her there, even though she's standing less than an arm's length away. He reaches for her again but she's started to lift the hem of her shirt up, and he recalculates his movements to help her undress, pulling it up over her outstretched arms and tossing it on the floor.
"You're so beautiful," he breathes. He's always been amazed by her and now, finally, he can be with her again.
She reaches for his belt and he lets her unbuckle it while he traces her arms with the backs of his fingers. They're both trembling slightly, nervous and so aroused, and he marvels at how pale her creamy skin looks next to his. He kicks off his shoes as she shoves his trousers down, and he steps out of them gracelessly and she smiles.
She reaches for his hand. "Come to bed?"
He nods, and follows her closely down the hallway. (He'd follow her anywhere.) As they reach her bedroom he tugs at her hand and guides her against the wall for another dizzying kiss. She whimpers in to his mouth, and he reaches behind her to unfasten her bra. It takes them a few seconds to untangle their arms and get it off, but now her breasts are pressed against his chest and it's all he's ever wanted. He dips his head to kiss the elegant curve of them, taking a nipple gently in his mouth. Distantly he can hear her saying his name, over and over again, a mantra in the darkness.
He lifts her body just a little bit, and is thrilled when she finishes his thought for him by wrapping her long, gorgeous legs around his waist. The heat of her cunt is overwhelming, even through his boxers and her panties. She braces her back against the wall for a little more leverage and circles her hips, small, tight circles, and he has to stop kissing her nipples for a minute to try to get his head back in the game. "Oh god. Mac, I need you."
"Me too," she says, locking eyes with him. He hugs her tighter and walks them the few steps to the bed, laying her down as gently as he can. He climbs over her body and covers her completely, taking her hands in his and stretching their arms above her head. He worries for a moment that he's crushing her but she locks her legs around his, encouraging him to stay put. "Billy," she says in to his mouth. They rock together, making out like a couple of teenagers. Her lips, soft and slick, are right there for him, and she's writhing beneath him and oh god he needs to be inside her, needs to feel that completion again, needs it more than air. He lets go of her hands so that he can work on getting rid of the rest of their clothes, kneeling over her. He sneaks her panties down her beautiful legs, kicks off his boxers, then rolls her stockings off her feet, one by one. He'd love to spend more time kissing up and down her legs, but once he gets to her thighs he gets distracted by the darkness of her pubic hair against her milky white skin. He teases his fingers through it, the springy curls are almost exactly as he remembers. With his right hand he parts her labia and gently rubs at the entrance to her vagina. She is so wet for him, and he can slide a finger effortlessly inside of her.
"Will, please," she chokes out. He strokes her inside and dips his head down to lick at her labia, and the taste of her is so heady and rich. He glances up to see her face, and her eyes are screwed shut, her hair spread dramatically across the pillow. His tongue wanders all over, tasting, teasing, and she bucks her hips against him. He tries to be firm enough with his finger inside her, but he knows it's not enough. He wants to see her come. He lays his tongue against her clitoris and laps at it gently, circles it, drawing lazy patterns across it as she shifts restlessly beneath him.
Her cheeks are rosy and it's spreading down her chest. He remembers how husky her voice sounds when she's coming, and he knows she's close. He isn't finished with her yet though. He withdraws his finger and kisses his way up her body, past the horrible scar on her belly (that he doesn't want to think about), across her breasts, to her mouth. He lays his weight upon her again, and this time his penis is rubbing against her curls. He groans, deep in his chest.
"There are condoms in the nightstand," she whispers. He scrambles for one, breathing heavily as he rolls it over his cock.
"Want you so much," he says. He's never been so aroused in his life. She spreads her legs as he kneels between them and she reaches for his cock, guiding him inside of her. When he enters her, they both shudder as one, and he gazes in to her dark eyes, sheathed completely in her. "Oh, god."
"I love you so much," she says, never breaking eye contact. She wraps her legs around his waist again, pulling him deeper in to her.
"I love you too," he says, and begins to move, slow, measured strokes. He's not sure he can last very long tonight, his heart is so full and his body is humming like a live wire. She moans with every thrust, her voice ragged, and he has to kiss her again. She bucks up to meet his every thrust, and soon he is fucking her in earnest, and he braces himself on one arm so that he can reach between them and rub her clit with his thumb. Her heels are digging in to his thighs and she's so, so beautiful. Her back is arching off of the bed and her hips are rocking against him and she feels so incredible. He cannot believe how lucky he is, to be here in her bed, making love to her and knowing that she loves him too.
She's calling his name again, and all of a sudden she's coming. The way she grips his cock with her muscles makes him lose his rhythm, and he stills, deep inside her, for just a moment while she jerks around him. "Fuck, Will. Oh my god. Oh, god, oh-" She is so beautiful like this. He thrusts gently as she comes down. She's talking to him a little bit more now, encouraging him, and he speeds up, and all of a sudden he's right there at the edge.
"Oh god. Mac," he says, his thrusts erratic now.
"Come on, Will, come for me, darling, that's it, oh-" her voice is ragged in his ear, and all he wants is right here before him. He's starting to see stars, and with just one more thrust he lets go, orgasm crashing through him like a tsunami.
They collapse together, a tangle of limbs. "God, you're incredible," she says, her fingers idly wandering across his back.
"You're not so bad yourself," he says, grinning. "I love you."
"I love you too."
He hasn't felt this content after sex in years. Just being with her makes him so happy, and he can't believe it's taken him this long to put himself back together.