Flashpoint
Disclaimer: Not mine. Never, ever mine, and based on this piece we're probably all better off that way…
Summary: Flash point: a critical point or stage at which something or someone causes or creates some significant action.
This is in the same universe as Vows. It is NOT a sequel, as I said that was a one-shot.
A/N.
Not sure where this came from. The WIPs are in progress, really, and I plan to finish them. I LIKE them. I like that Zach and Kendall. But I can't do fluffy right now because dark Zach has a hold on me, kids. Blame TK and his eyes. And blame the fact that we will NEVER get this on the show.
Or be grateful that we won't, depending on what you think of it. (Yeah, that's my plea for feedback. I'm really not sure on this one. Parts of it I like and parts of it…)
A/N 2… So, at least two points in this story have already been screwed by what aired. I don't care. I tried my darnedest to finish it before any of this stuff showed up onscreen, but…. I don't write fast. You guys already knew that, though!
A/N 3… Special thanks to Liz, who was far more patient than I deserved. If not for her encouragement, this would never have seen the light of day.
4. Wedding Night.
Zach: I didn't think you'd be back tonight.
Kendall: I couldn't stay away.
Zach: Well, um, would you like this shift?
Kendall: Yes, I would love it. Hey, sweetie.
He thinks, sometimes, that hell would be easier than this.
She was crying, so he sent her to Ryan. That's who she wants, after all. But now she is back, and he is stupidly, giddily happy to see her. He watches her, the line of her back, the curve of her hips…he hears the softness and love in her voice as she speaks to their son. For one blessed, beautiful moment all is as it should be.
But then he remembers, again, that she is not his and that this is not his life, not anymore. If it ever was.
And the beast roars its disapproval.
So he leans back in his chair, closes his eyes, and tries to shut out the smell of her perfume and the sound of her humming a lullaby.
But the beast won't let him. The sounds and smell of her quiet it, though, so Zach lets it listen and they are both soothed.
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3. Surgery
Zach's hands tighten on the steering wheel as Ryan talks about their visit with the DA. He hates the tone of the other man's voice as he speaks of Kendall: it is too possessive, too knowing, too involved. He reminds himself – again – that beating Lavery to a pulp won't accomplish anything.
The beast isn't so sure.
When they get back to the hospital, Kendall is where they left her, leaning over Ian's crib and stroking him, humming lightly. Zach remembers the feel of those hands on his skin: how they can soothe him and arouse him at the same time. Sometimes he and the beast are almost jealous of his own son, because he is offered her touch so freely.
When they get the good news about Ian, Kendall hugs him. Initially he is surprised; then without thought his arms go around her, pulling her closer. His hands drift down her spine, his head nestles into her hair, as he and the beast relish the feel and smell of her in their arms again. Her curls tickle his nose, and he burrows further, so he can feel the soft skin in the hollow of her shoulder. The beast purrs. Zach wants to purr, too. "Mine," they both think.
He feels her surrender herself to him, hears her sigh softly, fitting herself more closely into his arms, and then she freezes as they both hear Lavery's voice saying, "Congratulations."
Zach releases her slowly. The beast stops purring, arrested. Zach reminds it, again, that she is not theirs. Her eyes meet his briefly then skitter to Ryan. He's not sure what he saw there: flashes of recognition, regret...something else he can't or won't recognize. He remembers when he could read her every thought. Now she has learned to hide from him, or he has learned to hide from her.
He thinks he may hate that more than anything else.
Kendall crosses to Ryan to hug him. She holds him tight. Ryan cradles her, murmuring into her curls and staring at Zach over her head. Zach stares back, his palms itching, while the beast growls and bares its fangs.
It turns out that there are things he hates more.
He breaks the stare to look at Ian. He puts his hand on Ian's chin, tracing the same path that Kendall does, from the dimple that matches his, across the soft downy cheek, to the curls that are all Kendall. Ian smiles at him sleepily. Zach smiles back.
He tries not to listen to the soft conversation, but catches the words "Spike", "home", "rest". Kendall is arguing, but is overborne and taken away. The silence takes hold, leaving the beep of the machines that are virtual white noise to all of them now. Ian's smile fades as he starts to drift off. Zach slowly takes his finger from the boy's face, still leaning against the crib to watch his tiny chest rise and fall.
A minute later, he hears the hesitant click of her ridiculous shoes. "Zach?" she says softly. "I wanted to say goodnight to – Ian..." She comes to stand next to him as he makes room for her. He continues to watch Ian, although he can feel her beside him in every pore. Ian's eyes open wider as he sees his mother's face come into view, and he blinks up at them, happy to see them both but obviously fighting the desire to sleep. He smiles delightedly. They both smile back, until Ian's face breaks into a huge yawn. Kendall laughs. "Oh, my boy," she says softly. Zach grunts in agreement, wondering if his own face was ever that open to the world or if this is something else their son got from his mother. He fights the desire to pull her back into his arms, to fit her body to his. He can feel his body hardening at the thought of resting that tempting backside against his hips, of taking her against the crib while their son sleeps, of proving conclusively to her again that she is his mate, his wife, that they are his family. The beast rattles his chains and roars his approval of this idea. Zach yanks the chain tight again and then moves away to watch and listen from a safer distance. He wills his body to release his rising tension.
Kendall glances at him over her shoulder, surprised that he has backed away, but he keeps his face blank, hoping that she has lost the ability to read him. They stare at each other, unasked questions unanswered, and the air pulses with something Zach recognizes.
He realizes suddenly that she feels it, too. He can see the knowledge and the want and even a hint of fear in her eyes. They stare at each other, both afraid of what may happen next.
The moment is broken by Ian's soft babbling and Kendall turns back to the crib in relief.
He watches her trace that path again from Ian's chin to his curls and back, and this time he can feel her fingers on his chin, his cheek, his hair…he watches her place a kiss on her fingers and then touch them to Ian's lips.
He feels that, too – the drift of those cool, slender fingers over his mouth – and his lips burn.
Kendall doesn't look at him again as she leaves. He listens to her footsteps fade quickly, as if she is almost running down the hall.
Once she is gone, he drifts back to Ian's crib, enveloped in the lingering smell of Kendall's perfume, and plays with his wedding ring while he watches Ian sleep.
He can feel the beast's chains loosening again, and isn't sure he has the strength to fight it back anymore.
It only wants what he wants, after all.
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2. Kiss
Ian has survived. They stare at each other, incredulous. So little has gone right for so long, they are almost incoherent with joy. She grabs him, laughing, and kisses him quickly on the lips. He does the same to her, just so happy that their boy will live. Zach cannot remember the last time he felt this free. They are both laughing, giddy with relief. This time they kiss each other, but their lips meet longer… the kiss still essentially chaste, but it starts to change, to mutate into something more adult, more knowing. Testing.
The laughing stops. The beast within stirs, feeling the change in them both.
Their breath is mingling. He sees her eyes change, sees the green start to darken. He remembers that gleam, and feels his own eyelids start to weigh down in response. It has been so long.
He feels her fingers winding into his hair, tangling there as they haven't in months. The beast purrs. He draws her closer; one hand catching in her curls and the other drifting down the curve of her spine, settling in the curve of her waist and drawing her more fully against him. Their mouths meet, and he isn't sure whose opens first.
It doesn't matter, really. The taste of her, the smell of her, the feel of her tongue against his… it is at once hauntingly familiar and startlingly new.
The chains start to break as the beast starts to hunger for more.
God, he has missed this, missed her.
The beast is roaring again, it is almost free. Zach doesn't care. Its noise is no louder than the pounding of his heart or the pleased little sound she makes as he slants his mouth over hers again. The hand at her waist moves further down, around the curve of her bottom, and he spreads his legs, pulling her against his rising erection.
Yes. Right there. Yes.
She has moved one hand and curved it around his face as the kisses continue, while the other has drifted down and is resting on his chest. As he pulls her even closer, he can feel her body shifting to accommodate him.
"Mine," he thinks, as the beast roars it. The beast is rigid with anticipation. Zach starts to move the hand in her curls down to her breast and hears – a cough.
A small, embarrassed and yet amused cough.
He stops, realizing that they are not alone, but he doesn't release her. He can't. Not yet. The beast is free, and it feels too good, too right having her in his arms again. Kendall's eyes slowly open. They meet his, still languorous with pleasure and desire, until she too realizes that they are not alone.
Her eyes widen, dilate with something like fear. She breaks away from him with a gasp. "Oh, God," she whispers, trembling, refusing to look at him. She seems appalled by what they've done. He is at a loss, at first: then his hands clench as he remembers Ryan. The beast is rampaging now that she is no longer in their arms, but Zach ruthlessly brings him to heel as he turns to face the intruder with murder in her eyes.
Angie Hubbard is standing there, her eyes warm and knowing. "I'm sorry to interrupt," she says smoothly. "I thought you'd want to know, Ian can have visitors in recovery now."
Zach relaxes but refuses to acknowledge the twinkle he sees in her eyes. "Thanks," he says. Kendall doesn't say anything, she just nods and smiles gratefully at Angie.
Angie says, "You're welcome," and leaves them. Zach can see her shaking her head at their stubbornness as she leaves.
The two of them stand there, unmoving. He wills her to look at him, to acknowledge what has just happened. She has to know what it means – she must know that what they have between them is stronger than anything she has or has ever had with Lavery. Hell, Ryan knows it, Zach knows it, the beast certainly knows it. How can she not know?
But she refuses to look at him. "Let's go," she says. "I want to see him, Zach."
"Kendall –" he starts to say.
"Ian needs us," she insists, turning towards him, but still refusing to meet his eyes. "We promised we'd be there. We need to go." And she hurries down the hall, running as if the hounds of hell are at her heels.
And she's not wrong. Zach follows as soon as he has mastered the desire to chase her down, drag her into a supply closet, and make her acknowledge the truth.
The beast restlessly tests the newly applied chains and growls.
____________________________________________________________________
1. Homecoming
Ian is coming home. They all are.
Kendall had asked him the day before to continue living at the house. He hadn't said anything right away, and she had rushed into speech, pointing out that their marriage should look real to any potential jurors in her case. It would do neither of them any good, she said, if the first question the DA asked either of them was their address and they didn't match.
Her hands were waving the whole time, and her attitude in general made him smile. It had been a long time since she'd tried to convince him of something, and he'd missed her coaxing.
He was silent, playing with his wedding ring while Kendall nattered on, piling on silly reasons. Spike had missed them both so much, Ian would need him…he'd listened to her voice wash over him and thought of other times she had argued to get her own way, and how that usually ended with her promising more sensual delights.
She must have seen something in his smile, because her voice faltered momentarily. They were staring at each other, the silence starting to take hold, when Kendall shook herself and added hastily that Ryan would understand.
Zach's smile died as that remark sank in. Lavery. His hand had frozen and his whole body had tightened, as if he'd been punched in the gut.
Kendall noticed, of course. He saw an odd combination of relief, regret and misery flash across her face before she asked him if he was all right. "You're so quiet… even for you…"
He told her that he was fine. That of course he'd stay – the boys needed both of them, anyway, and she was right. Her case would be stronger if they were, to all appearances, 'together' again: the Team Slater everyone in Pine Valley had known.
He didn't tell her that he hadn't answered her right away because he had actually forgotten that he should be living somewhere else. The question had seemed stupid. Of course he would be there with Kendall and the boys. It was his home, their home together. Kendall was his wife, Spike and Ian were his children. They were his family, to love, to protect, to care for...
Until she reminded him with three small words that this was all a facade – an elaborate lie designed to protect her that was proving to be a constant, painful reminder to him of all that he had lost.
So here they are, preparing to take Ian home to the house he built for them. Their home, the home they were going to share forever, til they were both old and gray and full of sleep. Ah, sleep. He wonders who will sleep where. He hasn't been in what he still thinks of as their bedroom since… god. Since before Kendall came home from the hospital after her coma? Or was it only since that godforsaken trip to Connecticut?
In either case, it's been a long time, and he's not sure he can ever sleep there again without imagining Kendall in Lavery's arms.
He's even less sure he can sleep in a guest room while she sleeps there alone. Their growing closeness is playing merry hell with his control. The more they play with Ian, imagine birthday parties together and confide in each other, the harder it is for him to remember that Kendall. Is. Not. His. Their kiss plays over and over again in his mind with a different ending that has endless variations. Instead of being interrupted, he takes her on the floor, against the wall, in the chair…but he always takes her, and when they are lying there replete and exhausted she always admits that she still loves and wants him and him alone.
The beast approves, and grows more restless every day to make those dreams a reality.
But that is dream. Here and now, Erica is in Ian's room holding Spike by the hand, while Kendall and Ian settle into the wheelchair that will take them out of the hospital. Angie, Jake and some of the nurses are there as well. They are almost ready to leave. Lavery is nowhere in sight, and Zach is more conflicted about his absence than he imagines Kendall is. When Lavery is by, Zach can use his presence to curb the monster even though Lavery's very existence infuriates it. Lavery is the only reminder Zach needs that this is all for show. When Lavery is not around, Zach is always eventually seduced into believing that he and Kendall can find their way back to something like what they had.
Their rings, her smile, the laughs of their boys all taunt him that happiness – not the complete happiness he had with her before, but something almost as good or, if she's looking particularly beautiful or she and Ian are laughing or the sun is hitting their curly heads at just the right angle, even better - could be theirs.
Then the sun shifts, or Ian's color changes, or Lavery arrives, and Zach's fatalism returns.
He asks (and is granted) permission to push the wheelchair, and Spike vociferously insists on helping. Erica leaves them to it, promising to meet them at the house later in the day.
It takes them well over twenty minutes to get from pediatrics to the limo. They can't go very fast and many hospital staff members wish them well as they make their progression. Zach doesn't care, though, because he is so happy that Ian is going home at last. Kendall keeps glancing up at him and smiling. She is glowing, her eyes sparkling and for once free of shadows. He occasionally runs his hand over Ian's curly head, or tickles him to make him giggle, which makes Kendall and Spike laugh, too. One time, his hand accidentally brushes Kendall's breast and they both freeze as they feel her nipple tighten. Ian stops giggling but reaches up to pat Kendall's cheek, smiling at his father while he does it.
The moment passes when Spike asks why they have stopped, and why he and Daddy have to do all the work. Zach agrees, telling Kendall that he and Spike should get the ride next time.
She shakes her head at them both and cuddles Ian closer, refusing to meet Zach's eyes.
By the time they reach the limo Ian is almost asleep in Kendall's arms and Spike is insisting on sitting between Mommy and Daddy. Zach is relieved to have Spike's small body between them. They sit quietly during the short drive to the house, Spike falls asleep curled into Kendall's hip, his little hand on Ian's leg where it peeks out of the blanket he is wrapped in.
Zach watches his family through half closed eyes, oddly content. Part of him is cynically amused at how very little it takes to make him happy these days. The beast is happy, too, lulled by the intoxicating combination of her nearness and their solitude.
Kendall appears to be sleeping as well, but Zach knows she is faking.
He has watched her sleep often enough to tell the difference.
His contentment shatters when they pull into the driveway and he sees Lavery's car parked there. The beast growls menacingly.
_________________________________________________________________
Flashpoint
He arrives at Fusion to tell Kendall that the trial date is set. He knows this has been on her mind, and he wants to tell her himself so he can assure her that it will be all right. She won't believe him, of course, but this kind of assurance is all she will accept from him these days. He sees less of her now that they are living in the same house than he did when Ian was in the hospital. She is always running: to a meeting with Jackson, to the office, to a follow-up appointment for her, Spike or Ian. Her constant flight would be amusing if the beast didn't see her tactics as an invitation to chase. Every instinct Zach has clamors to corner her and make her deal with the simmering tension between them. The only thing keeping the beast remotely sane is the fact that Ryan has not been in evidence since his appearance at Ian's homecoming. Luckily he hadn't been there long. Erica had taken one look at Zach's face and whisked the other man off to help her with some project, claiming that Ian and Kendall needed to rest.
But that temporary relief was offset by Kendall's evasiveness. So Zach channels both of their frustrations into solving Kendall's case. He tracks down leads and annoys Jesse when he grows too frustrated by his wife's penchant for dancing out of the house as soon as she realizes he is watching her.
Neither of them is sleeping in what used to be their bedroom. Zach is in the guest room down the hall; Kendall has moved in to the room across from Ian's. Without prompting, Kendall told him the first night that she needed to be closer to Ian 'for a while'. He hadn't questioned her or pointed out that Rachel was staying in the room between the two boys.
Neither of them has mentioned the completely redecorated master suite. He assumes Kendall breezes through it on her way to her closet. Fitting her wardrobe into the one in her new room is a physical impossibility.
The master bedroom still smells of her. He'd noticed it when Spike had hidden under the bed during their last game of hide and seek.
The new bedding – cool neutrals, very different from the jewel tones they'd always used - doesn't smell of anything except laundry detergent. There is nothing of him, or really of them, in this room, other than the family pictures that have not changed.
The elevator opens silently and he steps out into the lobby. Fusion hasn't changed, even though it is currently quiet. Kendall has started working early evenings. She says the quiet helps her think, and it gives Zach some 'man time' with the boys.
As he gets off the elevator, though, he realizes that she is not alone. The low sound of Lavery's voice is offset by Kendall's lighter tones. As he comes into the main office, he sees Ryan take her in his arms.
There are tears on her cheeks. He can see the glint of them in the light that plays over the two of them. Ryan bends solicitously over her, brushing the tears away and smiling ruefully. Kendall smiles up into his face.
Neither one of them sees him in the archway.
They look very pretty together.
He leaves before he sees anything else.
But it is too late: the beast has broken free of its chains, and he is too angry, too jealous and too hurt to wrestle it down.
________________________________________________________________________________________________
Conflagration
He is sitting in the darkened living room, waiting. He holds an almost empty tumbler of scotch in his hand; swirling the glass round. He watches the play of the moonlight over the ottoman, his hand, the ring he wears. He sees her shadow at the door and hears her key in the lock. It is eerily reminiscent of the night it all started to fall apart - the night she confirmed his suspicions about Aidan. He can trace the disintegration of their marriage back to that moment. He remembers kissing her before he let her talk, pouring all his love, all his need for her into that kiss… as if that kiss would somehow stop the words from coming and keep everything the same. But the words came. Her admission rocked them both to their cores and they never really recovered from it. He said, she said, action, reaction…it all began to unravel then, and he doesn't know anymore (if he ever did), what could have happened differently.
But the past doesn't matter, not anymore. All that matters is the now, and what is to come. Their future, together. His and hers and theirs, because nothing will change the eternal truth that she is his and he is hers.
He's done denying it and soon, she will be too. The beast will brook no resistance.
There's an odd freedom in knowing that this dance is coming to an end.
She comes in. He puts the glass down but stays seated.
She starts to head up the stairs and then stops, realizing something or someone is in the front room.
She calls softly as she enters. "Zach? Is that you? Why are you…"
Her voice trails off as he stands. The moonlight from the window is behind him, illuminating her face and turning him into a shadow. She looks more beautiful than ever. The silver light plays over her face emphasizing her graceful features, the delicate and ethereal nature of her beauty. His classical education provides him so many allusions: nymph to his satyr, Persephone to his Hades, Beauty to his Beast… but the central metaphor is always her light to his darkness.
Two halves of the same whole.
"It's me," he says, not moving. "Late night, huh?"
"Really?" she answers, blinking in the semi-darkness as she comes towards him. "I –must have lost track of time." Her tone is casual. Elaborately so, it seems to him. "Are the boys asleep?"
He imagines the many ways she may have lost track and his hands involuntarily clench. He puts them in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. He ignores her question. "Why so late? Big crisis at the office? "
"Not exactly," she says, without elaboration. She seems freer – lighter, somehow - than she has since the day of Ian's surgery. It throws him off balance and gives the beast pause. But she runs her hand through her hair and the moonlight glinting off her ring renews his purpose.
"Ah," he says, as neutrally as he can. He stays as still as possible; he and the beast need her to come closer. Kendall looks at him oddly, starting to move around him to turn on the lights.
Ah. There. Right there. The beast pounces.
He stops her with a hand on her wrist and she turns to face him. He is silent, struck again by how truly beautiful she is. There are no traces of the tears she was shedding earlier. He wonders if Lavery kissed them away. He shakes his head to dismiss the image of her in the other man's arms, but it is seared there. Only one thing will make it go away.
She looks up at him, puzzled. "Zach? Are you all right?"
He laughs. It is not a happy sound. Kendall freezes. For the first time since she arrived home, she seems uneasy.
Perversely, he is glad. The beast is, too. Any reaction is better than the walls she has been hiding behind these past days.
She tries to pull her wrist free of his grasp, but he doesn't let her. He holds her carefully; she bruises so easily and he doesn't want to mark her skin. But he does not let her go. They will not let her go ever again. "Zach," she says again, still trying to wriggle free. "What's the matter with you?"
"Why are you so late?" he asks, ignoring her question
Now she is starting to get angry. "I told you. I was working. Now what the hell – "
He shakes his head. "I saw you, Kendall." The words burst out of him.
She stops trying to free herself. "What?" she asks, surprised.
"I saw you. With L- with him - at Fusion. Hours ago."
Her mouth drops open in shock. "You were spying on me?" she asks, outraged. Now she wrenches her wrist free. He lets her; he's between her and the door, and she's not leaving until this is resolved. And her anger is exciting. She has been tentative with him recently and he has missed her fire. The beast likes it, too.
He moves closer to her, but she holds her ground. "Spying? No. I came to see my wife – and found her in her lover's arms."
Her eyes flicker. "That isn't – never mind. It's none of your damn business what I do." She tries to storm past him.
She will not leave him. Not this time. "The hell it's not," he says, grabbing her by the arms and pulling her towards him. "You're my wife, damn it. Not his. Mine."
Kendall shakes her head in disbelief. "Unbelievable," she mutters. "I'm not a thing. You don't own me." She tries to pull away, but he refuses to let her go. She has to understand that this isn't about ownership; it's about belonging. His hands travel up her arms, over her shoulders, until her head is cupped between his hands. He can feel her pulse fluttering madly under his fingers.
"No," he agrees pleasantly. "I don't own you. That doesn't make you any less mine. And you know it." He is staring at the contrast between his skin and hers. Her skin looks like porcelain, but the texture is more like silk. His thumbs are resting in the hollow of her throat, in the spot that has always fascinated him. The tracing of veins, the fragile bones, the way her scent intensifies there ...in spite of himself his grip softens even more, and he starts stroking her. And Kendall is responding. Her eyes darken and her lips part as her breathing changes. Her pulse speeds up more, but becomes more regular, a steady throbbing that matches his own quickening pulse.
She is angry, and a little afraid, but she is also aroused.
The beast approves.
Kendall rolls her eyes and puts her hands over his, trying to tug them away. "Let me go, you Neanderthal."
Zach smiles. This is the Kendall he remembers. Fiesty, argumentative... he has missed this, too. But he doesn't let her go. "Neanderthal, huh?" he says. "Was Lavery more gentlemanly? When he held you tonight and brushed away your tears?"
Kendall's eyes start to frost over and she drops her hands away. "Go to hell," she says.
His smile twists. He stifles the urge to tell her he's already there. He doesn't want to sound that self-pitying. His right hand moves, without his volition, to trace the path he imagines the tears took. He's not sure whether he's brushing away the tears or Lavery's touch. He sees them again, in his minds eye, Lavery holding her so gently and sweetly, and the beast again starts to roar his outrage. So he focuses instead on the texture of her skin, the delicate flush that heightens as his hand moves over her cheek. That soothes it, and him. "Do you have any idea," he asks conversationally, "how beautiful you are? Even when you cry?" She doesn't say anything, just continues to watch him.
"Most women," he continues, "their eyes and nose turn red when they cry. But you, Kendall… your cheeks flush with just a hint of color, and your eyes… the tears make them sparkle." His hand continues to stroke her cheek. "Did Ryan tell you that, when he was drying your tears? How lovely you are"
Her eyes flicker. "I am not doing this with you right now."
"No," Zach agrees, bringing his face closer to hers and twining his hand into her curls. "Much better not. Tales of love denied are never all that interesting to anyone but the lovers. And you and I, we have other things to talk about."
Kendall tries to jerk her head away. The ice in her eyes is breaking, replaced by something much more heated. He is fascinated by the way her eyes are sparking at him. There is anger and irritation there, but a hint of something else as well. She tries once again to shut it all down, cover it with the icy demeanor that threw him off so successfully when she first woke up from her coma. "I don't have anything to say to you," she sniffs.
She will not shut him out. Not again. The beast howls. "Good," he says, "I don't want to talk anymore," and kisses her.
For one moment, her lips are still, and he considers pulling away. Even the beast pauses; they both want her willing.
But then she kisses him back. Her lips open under his, their tongues intertwine, and they are kissing fiercely, as if they are starved for each other.
Yes, he thinks. Yes.
His hands start to move. One moves around to cradle her head, tangling in her glorious hair, while the other traces the curve of her spine, pulling her even closer to his rapidly hardening body. Kendall's hands move as well, one drifting to his cheek and the other to his chest, where it starts burrowing between the buttons of his shirt.
It's not enough. He needs more. He needs her under him, over him, all around him. He needs his hands on her skin, her hands on his. He wants to inhale her. He drags his mouth away from hers and runs open mouthed kisses down her neck. His lips linger over the pulse in her throat. He can feel it pounding crazily, matching his own quickening heartbeat. Her fingers are trying to undo the buttons on his shirt. Apparently they confound her, because soon she rips it open and pulls it from his pants so she can touch him. He helps her pull the ruined shirt and jacket off, while he continues his exploration of her throat.
She purrs as her hands come into contact with his chest. He answers with a sound of his own, something between a grunt and a groan. It has already been too long since he kissed her, so he runs his open mouth back up to taste her again.
The kiss is gentler this time, but just as hungry. He will never get enough of her. Her taste, her smell, her skin… he wants to swallow her whole.
He maneuvers her back against the wall of the living room, hiking up her leg while he fits his hips into the juncture of her thighs. She curls her leg around his, meeting him thrust for thrust. The heel of her stiletto is digging into his calf, but he doesn't care. He cups her breasts in his hands. He can feel the nipples tightening through the silk of her dress as he fondles them. He wants them in his mouth. Kendall is wearing one of the high necked, tight dresses she has taken to wearing since her surgery; he has no idea how it fastens. He puts his hands into the collar and pulls. It rips apart and Kendall cries out.
The sound stops him and the beast both in their tracks. Her eyes are half closed, her mouth open. They stare at each other for several endless seconds. Zach is appalled at himself, even as he becomes more aroused by the creamy expanse of skin now bared to him. "Kendall -"
He can't read her expression. The house is silent, except for the sound of their hurried breathing. Kendall seems to come to some decision and then closes her eyes. "I thought we weren't talking," she says, and pulls his mouth back to hers.
The beast roars his approval, and Zach lets them both have their way. It has been too long.
He yanks his mouth away from hers to suckle at her breast, worrying the nipple to a fine point, while one hand works the other and the other traces the inside of her thigh, moving closer to the heat emanating from her core. He pulls aside the lace thong and touches her there, finding her already wet. Kendall mews as he strokes her, her fingers clutching his shoulders. Unable to wait any longer, he plunges one finger into her.
They both cry out. Wet. Hot. Tight. But it is not enough: he needs to see her come, watch her fly apart in his arms, and she needs to know who is making her feel like this. He raises his head, inserts a second finger, and continues to thrust, making sure to glance over her clit with his thumb with each stroke. She meets his rhythm, her eyes meeting his and clouding over as her crisis approaches. She has never looked more beautiful to him. Her nails are now digging into his back. He welcomes the pain – it proves that this is real, not another dream.
"Zach," she says breathlessly as her orgasm hits. "Oh, God. Zach!" She pulls his head down to hers and kisses him, her body shuddering, collapsing into his arms.
They stand there, breathless, kissing gently, the calm after the storm.
But the calm is temporary. He can feel the storm building, gaining force, and so can she. He has never been so hard. He needs to be inside that wet heat, feel her closing around him, hear her crying his name as she shudders around him. He and the beast need to know that she is theirs – and so does she. Even as her body is still shaking in the aftermath of the first orgasm, he rips the thong away and readies himself to enter her. He pushes her thighs apart and raises her up, using his body to hold her in place.
With one hand he cups her chin, tilting her face so their eyes can meet. He needs her to see, to acknowledge, what they are together. He waits, while the beast roars in his ears, for her eyes to meet his. They are drowsy, filled with pleasure, and something else he is thrilled and afraid to put a name to - but as he stares at her, waiting, they start to spark again.
Hunger. Desire. She wants this as much as he does. Her legs cross behind his hips, bringing them even closer together.
And now there is challenge there, as well. Kendall rubs herself against him, coating him with her moisture, teasing him with her heated softness. He groans softly, and she moans in response as her rubbing becomes more rhythmic.
No. Not without him, not this time.
"Enough," he growls, stopping her movements. Kendall stares at him, arrested, and he can see the anger start to spark. Christ, she is beautiful. She opens her mouth to say something and he kisses her, hard, as he pulls her down and plunges up into her.
They both cry out as his cock slides home.
Yes. So tight, so hot, so good.
He can't move, at first. If he does he will come, right then, from the sheer joy of being inside her again. He holds his breath until he has mastered himself. He can feel her adjusting to him, her body taking in his size, welcoming him. Her eyes close – in rapture, surrender, he's not sure and he doesn't care. He takes both her hands in one of his and raises them over her head and begins thrusting, almost languidly at first.
It is not enough. He starts stroking into her harder, faster. He wants to obliterate the memory of any other man from her mind, remind her that she is forever, only his. And Kendall matches him, stroke for stroke. He runs his mouth over any part of her he can reach. She tries to free her hands, and he lets her. He wants them on his skin. He groans as they start stroking him. He can tell from her cries, her breathing, her entire body that she is close. They both are. He changes the angle of penetration slightly, thrusts even harder, and she screams his name as her orgasm begins. Her walls convulse around him, and the tremors set off his own explosion. He groans her name as he comes, the beast roaring in his ears blocking out all sound, everything but her and him.
Them, together.
They collapse to the floor, gasping. He cushions her fall, wrapped around her protectively.
He never wants to let her go again.
The beast will not let her go again.
They lay there, their hearts slowing, catching their breath. She is nestled into him, her arms tight about his neck, her face hidden against his chest.
He doesn't know what to think.
The beast is beyond thought. He is happy, sated. Quiet, for the first time in months.
And now that he is quiet, Zach is afraid.
Zach traces the curve of her shoulder. "Kendall?" he asks tentatively. "Are you – did I hurt you?"
She is quiet – unusually so – and still. The fear catches in his throat. What has he done? He starts to release her, appalled.
The beast stirs.
Kendall raises her head to look at him in disbelief. "What? Of course you didn't hurt me."
His arms tighten around her in relief. "I don't..." He isn't sure what to say
Kendall smiles more naturally than she has in weeks. "Sshhh," she says. She raises her hand, brushes the hair back from his forehead.
"But we –you –" He has not been this inarticulate in years.
Her smile dims, and her stroking pauses. "I know," she says. "I know, Zach. Not now, OK? Just -- not tonight."
He catches her hand and pulls it to his lips, gently kissing her palm, and then brings it to his face. "I love you," he says, idiotically, as if that will solve everything.
The smile he gets in return almost makes him believe it will.
________________________________________________
Aftermath
They are in the new bed in their old room. Kendall is in his arms, where she belongs. The new bed smells, now, of them combined. He and the beast have missed this more than he even believed was possible. He breathes in the scent again.
She is sleeping now, a small half smile on her face. He should be asleep as well: he can tell from the light filtering through the shades that the boys will wake soon.
He cannot sleep. He is too entranced, too happy to sleep. He has been awake for hours, it seems, watching the light creep across her face and the gentle sweep of lashes across her cheek as she dreams, feeling the weight of her body as it rests against his. He has traced the line of her shoulder and arm with his fingers more times than he can count.
He cannot believe that she is here, with him, and that they have come through the storm. He is afraid that it is all a dream, and that he will wake soon, as alone and desperate as he was yesterday.
He knows there are things they still need to talk about, and that some things cannot be undone or unsaid. He wonders, even now, what will happen the next time there is some crisis with Spike that requires him to interact with Ryan.
But for now, he is at peace. She is his again, and all is right with the world.
She starts to stir. Her eyes open, disoriented for a moment. He tenses slightly, but then relaxes as the confusion starts to clear and those gorgeous green eyes warm. "Zach," she says sleepily.
"Mmmm hmmm," he says softly, brushing his lips across her forehead.
"Love you…" she murmurs drowsily, then curls into him and goes back to sleep.
He rests his head on her curls and closes his eyes, content at last.
The beast is free.