Disclaimer: Nothing is mine but the story (which is kind of mostly Laura's).
A/N: This isn't really my most favorite thing I've ever written but I kind of just wanted to post and finish it so here you guys go. I hope it's okay!
She hates him.
Okay, she'll never be able to hate him, but she's really, really mad at him and she really, really, really dislikes him.
She hasn't seen him, let alone spoken to him in over a year but the mere sight of him gets her blood boiling in a way no one else ever can, or, she thinks, anyone ever will.
Nothing actually happened between them and that's really the whole problem. There was no fight, no big blow out, there was just…nothing. The show ended and they saw each other every now and then for a few months, and then they just…didn't.
But the thing is, she tried to talk to him. She made an effort. She texted, she tweeted, she even called a few times, but there was nothing but silence on his end. For six months, she'd tried so hard, but even she has a limit.
She's aware that he'd been busy, touring, filming a movie, being with his girlfriend. But she'd had a boyfriend of her own (had being the keyword), she'd been going to college, recording her debut album, doing more photo shoots than she can count, auditioning, and planning her own tour.
Some of those things are on hold now, namely the girlfriend and the touring, or so she had heard, and that's why she supposes he's even here at this after party tonight.
She hadn't seen him at all during the awards show itself but she's been finding herself being seated closer and closer to the front row during these things and he's been pretty much MIA for the past year so she guesses that he'd been seated further back.
He hasn't seen her yet so she takes a minute to survey his appearance. It's different from the last time she had seen him. A year ago, he'd been shaggy haired and dirty appearing, his shirt almost fully unbuttoned with an array of random necklaces hanging over his bare chest with a colored scarf tied ridiculously around his neck.
It seems like he's made some much needed changes. His blond hair is much shorter and parted like it used to be, slightly curling around his ears. He's wearing ripped jeans and converse, as it had been a fairly casual event, with a white v neck underneath a black leather jacket, and she finds herself unable to take her eyes away. He looks slightly more filled out than he had before, his body a little bulkier, but his face a little more angular, his cheekbones and jawline more pronounced than she remembers.
She takes him in, and then gets angry all over again at the fact that she still finds him attractive. There's a tingling in her lower belly that began as soon as she saw his unmistakable blond hair across the room and she just can't control it.
She sighs to herself as she takes a generous sip from the champagne glass in her hand and then forces herself to turn away.
Maybe some fresh air will help.
The after party's in a mansion in the Hollywood hills and she makes her way out onto the balcony and stares unblinkingly at the bright lights of the city below. She finishes the rest of her champagne with one more sip and then sets it on the railing before resting her forearms on it and leaning forward. She sighs again.
She's so engrossed in her thoughts and trying to calm both her temper and arousal that she doesn't hear the door open behind her and notice someone slowly approaching.
"Long time, Laur," he murmurs, and she freezes. She would know his voice anywhere.
She slowly turns around but keeps her eyes down, taking in the familiar beat up Converse before slowly raising her gaze.
His eyes are dark, his blond hair almost glowing in the moonlight, and he has a small smile on his face.
"What do you want?" she snaps, unable to keep her composure for even a moment. She hates what he can do to her.
He raises his eyebrows. "Just saying hello," he says. "I haven't talked to you in like, a year."
She stares at him. "Are you serious right now?" she asks. "Are you honestly serious?"
He just shrugs. "How are you?"
He's acting as if nothing had happened between them, as if they had seen each other just yesterday or something, and she sees red. She takes a deep breath, forces herself to calm down, and clenches her fingers into fists so hard her knuckles turn white.
"Just fine," she mutters. "I'm leaving."
She moves to walk past him and she's calm and she's almost at the door and she's breathing and then he wraps his arm around her elbow and she loses it.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she seethes. "It's been over a year since we've interacted in any way and you think you can walk up to me and act like nothing's happened?"
He opens his mouth to say something but she continues, her eyes narrowing dangerously.
"I tried to talk to you, I reached out to you for six months. Six months, without a single 'hi' or any sort of acknowledgement from you whatsoever. And what, then you expect me to just pretend like it never happened? Make small talk with you?"
"Laura—"
"Shut up, Ross!" she yells, and his eyes widen as he's stunned into silence. "I've seen the shit you've been saying in interviews lately. How Austin and Ally was just a job to you, it was a way to get your band more fame, how the best part was a freaking consistent job?"
At least he has the capacity to look ashamed, she thinks, as she takes a step closer to him.
"I don't want to talk to you ever again. I am done making a fool of myself for you," she says, her voice deathly quiet now. "Please stay away from me."
She's almost to the door, her hand is on the doorknob, when he finally speaks.
"I miss you," he says so quietly she thinks for a second that she imagined it.
She whirls around, her eyes flashing. "You miss me? Bullshit."
It's his turn to look angry now. "Want me to prove it to you?" he yells, taking a step closer to her. "You know why I stayed the fuck away from you. Don't act like it's all my fault."
She grits her teeth. "What do you want me to say? Sorry for finding a guy who was actually there for me? Sorry for choosing to be with someone who didn't treat the idea of a relationship with me like some shitty little secret for the sake of his fucking band's reputation? Sorry for finding a guy who actually makes an effort to talk to me? Sorry for finding a guy who doesn't turn his back on his so called best friend?"
They're almost face-to-face now, her head tilted up so it's just inches away from him.
"You fucking know we were never just friends!" he yells, and then his mouth is on hers before she can take another breath.
She immediately shoves him off, her palms pushing firmly against his chest, and he's panting when he pulls back, his eyes narrowed and angry.
She's glaring daggers at him, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath, and a silent, heated moment passes as they just stare at each other, tension radiating off of them in waves.
She's never felt this out of control. She doesn't want to want him. They had come close, a couple of years ago when they thought they weren't going to get a fourth season, flirty moments on and off set and a few chaste, stolen kisses, but nothing had come from it. They were both hesitant to pursue a real relationship, him more than her, for the sake of his band. They had left season three on slightly shaky terms but their friendship had managed to remain intact. He had toured for months and months, and she had met someone else.
The first day of filming season four, he had almost given her the silent treatment for the entire day, to the point that she couldn't take it anymore and dragged him into her dressing room at the end of the day and forced him to speak.
"Why are you acting like this?" she asks, frowning.
He shakes his head. "Let it go, Laur."
"And have you give me the silent treatment for six months?" she asks, her eyes narrowing. "Tell me."
He screws his eyes shut for a moment and when he opens them, there's an anger she's never seen before.
"We didn't even get to fucking try!" he suddenly yells, slamming his hand down on the coffee table in front of him. "You show up here with a fucking boyfriend and I'm supposed to pretend like last year never happened?"
She startles at his outburst. "Ross—"
He turns his head to glare at her and she's suddenly so mad she can't see straight.
"I pretended like nothing happened? What about you? You didn't want to be with me last year because you wanted to mess around on tour and having a girlfriend would have screwed that up for you! Why the hell would you think I would just sit around waiting for you? When I met—"
He cuts her off. "Don't you fucking even dare say his name."
She can't help herself. She slaps his chest as hard as she can but he doesn't even flinch. "Get out of my room, Ross," she shrieks. "Get out."
"Fine," he snarls, and stands up from the couch. "I can't wait until I can finally get the fuck out of your life."
He slams the door so hard her ears start ringing.
That memory and a dozen more just like it go through her mind. She's still angry, so angry, but he's here, standing in front of her and she's just so, so tired of resisting.
Four, five, six beats of her heart, and then she steps forward and pulls his face down so hard their teeth clack together as she kisses him.
His hands immediately go to her waist and he squeezes her hips tightly, his hands inching up her bare skin under the loose crop top she's wearing.
She bites his lip as she brings her fingers up into his hair and both of them let out a groan when he pulls her body flush against his, his readiness for her evident against her lower belly.
His thumbs are dangerously close to the bottom of her breasts and she moans into his mouth when he quickly swipes them across her nipples over the thin lace of her bra. He pulls back slightly and begins to kiss down her neck, his tongue swirling over her collarbone until she's almost boneless in his arms.
"Fuck…you, Ross," she pants, her fingers tangling in his hair as she tilts her neck back even farther.
"You're about to, Laura," he mutters, and she can feel his smirk against her neck. "We need to get out of here."
"Taxi," she whispers. "Get a taxi."
He takes his phone out and pulls her from the balcony and through the party as he orders a car to pick them up, and his free hand is tightly interlaced with hers.
"It'll be here in two minutes," he says, when they get to the front door. "My hotel's close."
"Mmkay," she murmurs, already standing on her tiptoes to press her lips to his neck. He clenches his jaw as he tries to maintain composure and his fingers tighten around hers. She sucks hard on his collarbone, apparently not caring in the least if she leaves a mark, and he suddenly wraps an arm around her waist as he pulls her body tightly against his. He's about to lose it unless he does something.
"If you don't stop, I'm not gonna be able to keep myself from fucking you right here on the front lawn of this house," he whispers into her ear, gritting his teeth as he tries to keep her hands from wandering down to the front of his pants.
She opens her mouth to respond but then their taxi pulls up and they both practically run to climb in. He sits as far away from her as possible in the back seat but keeps his fingers intertwined with hers, willing himself to stay under control until they get to the hotel. He even goes as far as closing his eyes but he doesn't even last five seconds until he has to have her. He looks at her across the seat, her hair mussed and lipstick smudged, and she's looking at him in a way he thought he would never see.
He recognizes the sheer lust in her eyes because he knows his are reflecting the same thing but there's a touch of anger still buried underneath it all.
He only has a moment to look at her before she practically leaps across the backseat and straddles his lap.
"This," she murmurs, as her tongue swirls over his collarbone. "Means nothing."
He bites his lip and tightly grips her hips as he grinds her pelvis down into his lap, making sure she knows what she's done to him. She hisses when she feels his erection pressing into her, her fingers digging painfully into his shoulders.
"Whatever you say, Laura," he whispers, bringing one hand to the back of her neck. He kisses her hard and she gives just as much as he does, her chest pressed against his as she starts subtly rocking her body against his, trying to relieve some of the ache between both their legs.
He vaguely hears the cab driver clearing his throat a few times but he can't bring himself to care even a little bit. Like he had told her, the drive is only a few minutes long and he throws a fifty at the driver without even looking back.
Her hand is clenched tightly in his and they walk quickly to the elevator, his stomach in knots as they wait impatiently for it to arrive. He doesn't dare to look at her again until they're alone, and the second the door opens, he pulls her in and slams the door close button before pushing the number for his floor.
His hands are around her waist and pulling her to him before the doors even fully close and she moans into his mouth the second it touches hers.
He can feel her tiny hands in his hair, pulling roughly as her nails scratch his scalp. He feels like he's about to explode; he's never felt this out of control and he's never wanted anyone more in his entire life.
The elevator stops and the door opens but it takes him a good ten seconds before he realizes and steps them both out onto the floor.
He practically drags her down the hallway and pushes her against the closed door of his hotel room, his lips on her neck and his hands tightly clenched around her waist while her hands fumble inside his pockets, trying to find the room key.
"Back pocket," he murmurs, his lips moving against her collarbone.
"Got it," she mumbles back a moment later, and twists around in his arms to open the door.
He follows her in and then spins her around again, his hands immediately moving to the hem of her shirt and lifting up. She obliges him and he takes a small step back to see that she's left standing there in a lacy black bra and dark skinny jeans and he doesn't even bother to hold back a groan.
She's better than he even dreamed, he thinks, his head spinning as he tries to wrap his head around the fact that she's actually standing there in front of him.
"You're so pretty," he says simply, and he watches her expression briefly change from lust to longing and he knows that she's in just as deep as he is.
She doesn't say anything further to acknowledge that she heard him and instead moves closer to him, moving her hands to either side of his leather jacket and pulling so he can shrug it off. He drops it on the ground, not caring in the least what happens to it, and then he takes off his shirt and flings it away.
He watches in fascination as her eyes scan his torso, as her tiny pink tongue darts out to wet her lips, as she swallows nervously before reaching one small hand out to touch his stomach. He holds in a breath as she slowly drags her nails over his abs, his eyes never leaving her face.
His heart slams in his chest three, four, five times before she finally makes eye contact with him. A silent moment passes and then, suddenly, it's like a switch has been flipped and they both completely lose control.
She has never wanted anyone more in her entire life. She feels like she's barely in control of her own body as she presses herself to him, his need for her apparent through both of their jeans. His large hands briefly cup her ass before she finds them gripping either side of her bra, and her eyes widen in realization before he literally rips it off of her body.
"I'll buy you a new one," he mutters, and she could really care less as he throws it somewhere in the room.
"Oh my god," she moans as his thumbs circle her nipples, coaxing them into hard buds before he drops his head and wraps his lips around one. His hand roughly squeezes the one his mouth isn't occupied with and she tilts her head back as she registers the rush of moisture that it causes between her legs.
She brings herself out of the haze enough to start removing his belt, and he briefly steps back from her to push his jeans and his boxers to the ground. He unbuttons her own jeans in the next instant, and he pushes them along with her panties to the floor.
"Laura," he groans, and then his hand is between her legs and she forgets how to breathe. He starts slow, his fingers barely skimming her folds, but it only takes a few moments before one finger, and then two are inside her, moving back and forth frantically.
She's leaning back against the front door of the hotel room, as they hadn't gotten as far as the bed only a few feet away. His face is buried in her neck as he brings her to the edge over and over and over again, and she almost lets out a sob when he removes his hand entirely.
"You're not cumming unless it's around my dick," he grounds out, his lips moving against hers now. He hisses when she finally touches him, his hot breath mingling with her own.
He only lets her stroke him for a moment before she finds herself being lifted up, her back slammed into the door as her legs automatically wrap around his waist.
He leans his forehead against hers, his tip just prodding at her entrance, and they stay like that for a moment, their eyes locked on one another's. "I've wanted this forever," he whispers. "I've wanted you forever. I can't believe you're here, that we're here."
She blinks back tears as she stares into his eyes, recognizing every emotion he feels for her as they're reflected back in her own, and she can't stop two tears from falling down her cheeks. He softly presses his lips to either side of her face, kissing her tears away, and she knows in that moment that she won't be able to be without him ever again.
"I want you, Ross," she whispers softly, barely able to hear her own voice over the sound of her heart slamming in her chest. "I've missed you."
He nods, and she watches, captivated, as he blinks away his own tears before he presses his face to her neck.
"Laura," he whispers, and then he pushes his hips forward, sheathing himself completely inside her. She could almost cry at how good he feels inside her, she thinks, as she clutches at his shoulders, bringing him even closer to her. She's never felt so full, so complete.
"Holy shit," he breathes, closing his eyes and letting her adjust for a moment. She clenches her legs around his waist, letting him know she's good, and then he sets a fast pace, pushing her back against the door with every thrust.
She feels herself tightening after just a few slams of his hips against hers, already sensitive from his fingers inside her just minutes before, and she suddenly cums without warning, her nails digging into his shoulders as she whimpers his name. He slows his pace just a bit as she recovers, and then he spins them around and walks them toward the bed, still deep inside her.
He falls forward with her still in his arms so he's on top of her, and his pace is relentless, his tongue swirling around her own as he presses her into the mattress.
"You feel so good," he mumbles, drawing back a little after a couple of minutes so he can switch their positions again, this time rolling them over so she's on top of him and pulling her further up on the bed.
"Move," he groans, and he locks his hands around her hips, helping her set a pace as she braces her hands on his abs. She watches him watch her, his eyes glued to her breasts as they bounce tantalizingly with every movement she makes. She rides him until she feels him start to tremble a bit and his grip around her waist starting to loosen as he's pushed closer to the edge.
She can feel her own release starting to build, and just when she thinks he's about to lose it, he uses the last of his strength to roll them over again, her knees bending up on either side of his hips as he slams into her more deeply than she's ever felt anyone.
It takes one brush of his long fingers against her clit and then she screams into his mouth, her orgasm hitting her so hard she sees stars for a moment. He thrusts erratically into her once, twice, his arms shaking with the effort to hold himself above her, and then he's totally gone, and she feels the sensation of his warm release filling her sensitive pussy as he collapses on top of her, completely spent.
He doesn't move for a long moment, his deep breaths stirring the sweat dampened hair around her neck. She tentatively moves her hand and he grasps it in his immediately, intertwining their fingers before he pulls out of her and shifts a little so he's not completely crushing her.
"I—Laura, this wasn't nothing," he whispers, and she turns her head so she can look at him.
"It was—it was everything," she whispers back, so softly she barely even hears herself.
He nods, his eyes dark and sincere, and she knows there still remain a lot of questions to be answered, fights to be had, and apologies to be given.
But they have to start somewhere.
He kisses her softly.
She kisses him back.
thanks for reading! this isn't really my favorite thing i've written but i had it and it's porn and there you go