He came to your house weeping, he was a mess. His hands were buried in his face and the sobs seemed like they were never-ending. It was about 2AM in the morning and you were just about to change into some comfy pajamas until he called you up on the phone about how he needed to see you. You knew how important it was when you heard his voice, every word came out in shaky stutters. Within a couple of minutes, he was already at your door and seated himself on your bed. You sat next to him on it and held him close while he cried.

"Who could have done this to her? Why?" he pleaded, cursing under his breath about how cruel the world was and you rubbed his shoulder gently with your hand, hushing him and keeping him close to you.

You didn't know much about his mother, but you knew without a shadow of a doubt that he loved her. You could tell in the way that he spoke of her and the many fond memories he mentioned as you tried to console him.

You had been friends with him for years. You couldn't really remember why you were such good friends, except that you were. You had a lot in common, you supposed. He always called you his 'bestie', and that was how he always introduced you to other people. You were content with that. Not happy, but content. You always had a crush on him, from the first time you saw him and gathered the courage to introduce yourself. You were just a little girl then, and recalled that he was just as shy as you were, if not more.

You couldn't imagine how he must have been feeling right now, he lost his mother, there was nothing you could say to change that or make things better. The only thing you could do was be there for him.

"I'm so sorry, Jerome," you whispered as you hugged him. "You can stay the night if you need to, I'm here for you," you promised.

He wiped his tear-stained face with both of his hands, sniffing as he choked out, "Thank you, you're such a good friend," he said with a small smile. It was enough to make you feel like you weren't as useless as you thought you'd be in this situation. He needed a shoulder to cry on, and you were more than willing to be that for him.

"You can come by whenever and stay as long as you need to," you assured him and pulled your hand away from him but you found him scooting closer to you, his knees brushing against yours all of a sudden. He brought your hand back to his shoulder and it took you by surprise.

"Your touch always makes me feel better, Y/N," he told you as he held onto your hand before letting it go.

"Well um okay," you answered, a little taken aback because he didn't say things like that before, until now.

"I really appreciate you letting me stay, I needed someone to talk to," he confessed. "I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight," he uttered a long sigh.

"I'll be here, we can talk or do whatever you want, just say the word," you suggested, trying to lighten up his spirits. He seemed to be thinking of your offer and what he would want. He let his long fingers linger against yours and you didn't pull away. He traced them up along the tips of hers, lining them up to bring them together and quietly sucked in his breath as you moved to do the same thing.

When your fingers were interwoven his chest felt tight, and so did his groin. He still had his eyes locked with yours and watched your lids close halfway, your lips parted ever so slightly, and your pink tongue slipped out to moistened them.

He had tightened his grip on your hand, his eyes examining yours as he did so.

"I know what I want," he choked out.

"What?" you asked, swallowing thickly. You nearly pulled away from his unwavering gaze but you fought against it.

"I want to be with you," he uttered quietly, his voice still shaking a little.

"Jerome, are you-" you started, you found yourself staring at him in bewilderment. Your eyes widened in surprise and you were sure your cheeks were flushed. The physical need you had buried resurfaced and the desire you had tried to stifle grew strong, but you thought the timing was off. You felt like this came about impulsively, like it wasn't something he thought through

"Someone murdered my mother," he started, "and it made me realize that life is a precious thing. The truth is, we never know when our last day is, and that's why I want to make the most of it with you," he said softly, holding onto your hand tighter in his.

"You're in a vulnerable place right now, you're not thinking clearly," you said with a slight frown. "You want comfort, and it's making you confuse it with something else," you bit back your bottom lip, averting your gaze from him.

"No, I'm not confused" he replied, "I want to be with you, Y/N, you're always there when I need you, and I know you feel this too," he whispered with a weak smile as he brought your hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss there.

You took a deep breath before you replied, "I... Jerome, you don't know how long I've been waiting to hear you say that," you answered with slight curve of your lip.

"I had to tell you," he leaned in close to your face as he spoke, "I didn't want to let another day go by without you knowing," he admitted.

"Jerome..." you murmured his name softly.

He pulled your head suddenly with his hand and planted a firm kiss on your lips. In no time at all, he swiped his tongue over your lips to ask for entrance which you quickly obliged him. You wrapped your arms around him tightly as he kissed you again and again. There was a sudden, happy leap in your chest upon finally tasting his lips.

His arms were tight and powerful around you, making it near impossible for you not to melt in them.

"I've wanted to do this since I first laid eyes on you," he confessed.

It was a struggle to be rational when such sweet words were spoken in such a tone.

"Me too," you admitted, the words coming out before you even had time to think about them.

He smiled at that, reaching over to gently knead your breast and then latching his mouth on your neck. He touched you as if you were an exquisite piece of art, exploring your body through the clothes with slow hands. You moaned softly as you started to weave your fingers in his hair. Even through your clothes, his touch was potent, sending your senses aflame. His thumbs immediately found your stiffening nipple and brushed it rapidly back and forth, making you gasp.

"Come here," he whispered as he pulled you into his lap as he sat at the edge of the bed, the fabric of your dress bunching up around you.

One of his hands rested on your thigh, steadying you, while the other preoccupied itself with grasping at your ass through your dress. Your own hands threaded through the hairs at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. Your mouth was hungry against his, tongue insistent for entrance again. His lips parted easily for you, his grip tightening on your body as you slowly ground your hips along his once.

But he froze when you attempted to again, breaking the kiss. "Y/N, I..."

"Yes, Jerome?" you asked softly.

He loudly exhaled, "You really want this too.. right? With me?" he took another breath.

You silenced him with your lips pressing once more against his, chaste this time, before you pulled back.

"Yes," you chewed slightly against your already kiss-swollen lower lip. "I want you, Jerome, I really do," you reassured him.

"And you don't want anyone else?" he tilted his head to the side in question.

"No, I don't want anyone else," you answered immediately, without even having to think about it.

"Good," he said with a smile, "because I don't want anyone else, either. I really care about you," he added.

"You do?" you asked with a giggle, raising an eyebrow playfully.

"I do," he replied.

A small smile played on your lips as you stood from his lap, moving your body backward until it was against the headboard. He stayed seated at the edge of the bed, a brow cocked at you, curious as to what you were up to as his eyes never left yours.

You looked away shyly, not meeting his gaze as your fingers went to the buttons of your dress. Your heart was pounding, you didn't know if he could hear it, but it was a deafening drum in your ears. No one had ever seen you like this. You were sure he could see the tremble in your hand as you tried to undo the offending buttons, failing miserably.

You could hear him take in a sharp breath before he said, "Let me."

You looked up from where you had been staring at the floor in concentration and embarrassment, eyes wide as he slowly stood and stepped toward you. Your hair came first, the locks moving over your shoulder to clear the path for his fingers to follow down to the buttons.

Your breaths were starting to become unsteady, your nerves threatening to cause you to forget this whole thing and back out. But his touch, his gentle touch; you wanted this. Your eyes fluttered close as his lips pressed soft kisses along your neck, his hands continuing down your body as they undid each fastening.

His nose nuzzled at the patch of skin just below your ear which made your knees start to quake. When he finished opening your dress, leaving the edge of the fabric dipping sinfully low on your back, his hands came back up, fingers sliding under the material of your shoulders and slowly pushing it down.

Your hands came up instinctively to cover your breasts as the light fabric covering you slid down and collected at your waist, but the second his eyes looked back up to see your body uncovered, you pulled them away. He stared in admiration of the way the moonlight caught around your torso, illuminating the lines at the sides of your breasts, stomach and arms.

His darkened eyes was roaming across your body before he said, "You are so gorgeous, Y/N."

You were certain that the flush creeping across your face was crawling down your neck and chest. No one had called you beautiful like the way he had said it, full of want and awe, as if you were something precious. The words bloomed a small hint of courage in you, and you boldly pushed the fabric from your hips along with your panties, leaving it to pool at your feet before you kicked them off.

There was a long smirk on his face as he ogled your body before him. You didn't give him time to react further before you moved towards him, afraid that too long a pause would put an end to whatever it was that was occurring, your fingers fiddling with the hem of his shirt before he pulled it over his head.

His fingers worked on his pants quickly, thumbs hooking into the fabric of them and his underwear when he pulled them down.

And then he was climbing across the sheets beside you, mouth immediately seeking your own, hands gripping at your hips and pressing you closer to him. You gasped in his mouth as you felt his arousal growing against your stomach.

"This was really happening, wasn't it?" you thought to yourself, still in a state of disbelief.

You'd never been this close before, never been without clothes and against each other like this.

He was breathing heavily as his mouth created a trail down your neck, alternating between sucking on the skin, nibbling at you, and soothing the bruises he was creating with his tongue. He moved down to your shoulders, continuing the pattern before he placed soft kisses down your collarbone. His lips placed a single kiss in the valley between your breasts, not having a chance to place another as your hands restlessly tugged at his shoulders, and then he was mouthing at your breasts, one tight peak between his lips. You were going to be littered with evidence of his affection.

You didn't quite know what to do with your hands, and so they clung at his shoulders, kneading the skin there as he continued his ministrations.

"You're tense," he started, "you've never..." he lifted his head to catch your gaze. "you've never done this before, have you?"

From anyone else the words could have been said accusingly, mean to belittle your lack of experience, but his tone was tender, his fingers stilling as he waited for your answer. And yet despite everything, you found yourself looking away to avoid his gaze, "No."

His attention left your breasts and his hand came to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing small circles over your chin. "If you want to stop, we can," he reassured. "There's no rush."

Your answer came quickly. "No. No, don't stop," you practically begged.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment longer than you had expected, his free hand moving downward across your skin, pulling a gasp from you as it skimmed past your hip and fell towards the juncture of your thighs.

"You're sure you want this? With me?" he asked.

Your fingers curled at the base of his neck, pulling him close to press a soft, chaste kiss against his lips. "Yes, Jerome."

That was all he needed to hear. Your back arched as a finger slipped through your outer lips, working his way around your folds, smearing the evidence of want over the tip before moving back upwards to the hardening nub.

"You're so-" his words were cut off as your own hand began to run down his back, nails lightly scratching against the haired skin as you moved downwards. He groaned as your soft fingers skimmed across him, stroking him gently, his breaths becoming more and more ragged the longer you touched him.

His hand stopped moving against you suddenly, "I want to taste you, Y/N, please," he pleaded. "It might ease some tension."

You were pulled from the haze washing over you at his words, a nod of your head being your only answer, words failing you as you watched him back himself down the bed. The flex in his shoulders and his back as he moved, an unspoken promise of all the strength he had to give you, had you tightening your thighs together to give some relief to the ache building there. He chuckled as he eased them apart again, fingers under your knees. "You're not helping."

You giggled, the sound becoming a moan as he pressed a soft kiss to one of your thighs, lips lowering down to your knee, then your ankle, before switching to your other leg and showing it the same attention. He placed each leg over each side of his shoulders when he was finished, nuzzling into the now too sensitive skin of your inner thigh. It was maddening how patient he could be, and you were nearly about to urge him onward when his mouth placed a soft kiss to the outer lips at the juncture of your thighs.

You gasped when the cool night air hit your arousal as he spread you with his fingers. You didn't know what to do with your hands again so you fisted them in the sheets beneath you. A loud moan, louder than you were sure either of you had been expecting erupted from your mouth as he pressed his lips to yours again, his tongue rubbing against the spot where you needed most.

He alternated them, sometimes suckling against your inner folds, pressing wet kisses to your lips, his tongue gliding along your seam before growing attentive to your clit. His hands were kneading at your thighs, hips, breasts, anywhere he could reach, and you weren't sure how you both waited so long for this, that it took his mother dying for him to express how much he cared about you.

You were certain that you were going to die right there and now on the bed as the pleasure surged through your veins. Your fingers kept their tight hold onto the sheets, palms dampening the fabric as you clung to something, something so you wouldn't float away in a haze of pleasure.

You called his name when he pressed a finger inside, and you wondered how you could ever go back to using your own hands to bring yourself pleasure after this. You didn't think you could take much more between his tongue and fingers exploring you. And yet you wanted more. Only more.

"You feel so good," he purred, "so good," he repeated.

His lips drifted upwards as his finger continued to pull sounds from you that you never even knew it was possible for you to make. And then he added another, curling them just so, his long fingers reaching a place inside you that you had never been able to on your own.

"You're so tight," he cooed.

One of your hands loosened enough and tangled itself in his hair instead, fingers ruining the soft waves. He groaned against you and that was it. The hum against your tender skin and the sound in your ears was all you needed before you climaxed around his fingers.

You didn't know how long you laid there, your chest heaving. You barely remembered him loosening your legs from around him. But then he was there, above you, and all around you.

"I want you, Jerome, please," you whined.

He pressed his forehead to yours, breathing labored as his hips slowed, his words echoing your own. "Are you certain?" he questioned.

Your hands traveled upwards from his shoulders, framing the sides of his face as you looked him straight in the eyes. "Yes, Jerome, I want this. I want only you."

He smirked upon hearing that, it was like he just wanted to hear you say how much you needed him. Your back arched once more as he pushed himself inside you slowly, shallow at first, pulling his hips back before working in a little more each time as you stretched around him.

He groaned, a low grumble in his chest as he worked himself to the hilt, stopping for a moment when he reached it. He kissed you then, hard, tongue barely sweeping across your lower lip before it was dipping into your mouth. He pulled away only when his hips began to move.

"Fuck," he growled.

Your fingers grasped at his skin, hands sliding down as you kneaded your way down his back, finally finding their destination at the curve of his ass as it flexed between your legs.

You never felt anything like this before, it was too much and not enough. His teeth were scraping and nipping against your neck, lips and tongue soothing after. His one forearm stayed firmly planted against the bed while his other hand roamed over you. It squeezed and caressed your breasts, flicked and pinched against your taut nipples.

But then his hand eventually sought your own, pushing the back of it into the mattress as his fingers threaded through yours. Your eyes snapped open briefly at the contact, catching his gaze as he spoke in a broken voice.

"I'm so close," he said under his breath, "touch yourself."

Your hand that had still been cupping his ass slipped between you two, rubbing tight circles against your clit. His hips began to stutter, thrusts coming even faster. He tucked his head in your shoulder, burying his face in your skin as he tried to hold off his own end for the sake of yours.

You cried out as you could feel the edge of orgasm, your grip tightening on his hand. You were certain that you called his name, but it could have been an unintelligible sob as your body shook and contracted around him. It only took few more pumps of his hips and he was groaning your name, his own end thrust upon him at the feeling of yours.

You were both breathing heavily as he slumped against you, his arm still holding a little of his weight off you, but you couldn't deny that you enjoyed the solid feeling of him atop of you. Your hand that had been between you two slipped from its spot and rubbed soft lines down his back.

When his breathing started to steady then, he pushed himself up as his hand disentangled itself from yours. His now unoccupied fingers came to brush your cheeks as he looked down at you.

"Thank you," he uttered around a low pant, "for being here for me, I needed that."

"Jerome, I'm always here for you," your eyes fluttered, shivering at his touch.

"This wasn't a one night stand, I don't want this to end," he whispered in your ear, "I want you, so much, only you," he placed a gentle kiss upon the shell of your ear. "You hear me? I don't want anyone else."

You nodded your head in response, "Yes, I do," you smiled warmly, "I'm yours, Jerome, only yours."

You nuzzled into his chest, closing your eyes as you relaxed. It didn't take long for you to drift off to sleep, but Jerome was still wide awake. He smirked darkly to himself as he snuggled with you, stifling laughter. Little did you know that you fell asleep that night in the arms of a murderer. But you didn't have the slightest clue about it.