This is literally my first time ever publishing smut so if it's awful, I do apologize. But I enjoyed writing it, so hopefully there will be some enjoyment in reading it.
Tim liked Jazz.
It only made sense that they let him take a ticket and continue on to Lake Tahoe. He took the other one with him too – he was sure someone would want to go and he'd hand it off to them – and Walter and Paige began the drive back to the garage.
"You okay?" She asked him when he hit the rumble strip for the third time in one song.
He looked over at her, wondering why in the world she'd think he wasn't okay. You're with me. We're going home. But he was a little tired of staring at the road.
"There's a hotel at the next exit," she said. "Let's get out of the car for a few hours.
"It's inefficient," he said. "It will take us that much longer to get home."
"Walter."
He loved the sound of his name when it came in her voice. "Hmmm."
"I'm right here," she reminded him. He knew what she meant – there was none of the same rush to get home as he'd felt on the drive the other direction. She was here, she was in his car and she was heading home with him, she'd chosen him, it had been easy, and there was no need to keep driving.
He put on his blinker and took the exit.
"If you're not out by two," the guest service representative reminded him, "you'll be charged for a second night."
"Understood." Paige's voice was cheerful.
"One or two keys?"
"One is fine," Walter said.
The room was small and the bed was large, making everything seem disproportionate. Paige dropped her purse on the floor by the bed and playfully dropped on it, rolling on her side. Walter watched her, distracted.
"Come here," she said, looking over her shoulder at him. He walked around to the other side of the bed and joined her. They lay on their sides, facing each other.
"I'm glad you came after me," she whispered.
"I'm sorry it took me so long. I'm still...I don't know...a lot, but..." He bit his lip. "I just know I want you with me."
She reached between them and took his hands. "I don't need you to be perfect," she whispered. "I've never needed that."
"I still want to be."
"You're you." She leaned across the gap between their faces and lightly kissed him. "You were honest earlier. When you said you loved me."
"Yes." He hoped that wasn't a question.
"Let me be honest, okay?" She scooted slightly closer to him. "I've been thinking about being with you for a year. You can fumble and sputter and trip over yourself and it's not going to make me leave. You said you don't want to lose me, and with all 197 I.Q. points you possess you still haven't fully realized that I don't want to lose you either."
He kissed her then, his eyes falling closed, a pleasant feeling dancing its way through him as she slid her hand over his ribs. He made a low sound deep in his throat, enjoying the closeness of her, beginning to feel everything around him spin, blurring, fading into irrelevancy.
Her hands danced at a button of his shirt, her finger sliding between two and coming into contact with his chest underneath. Her fingertip ran lightly over his skin, making him shudder, and he drew a sharp breath as her tongue flickered along his lower lip. She worked the buttons, opening his shirt pausing before undoing the lowest one to remove her own shirt. Her hands returned promptly to the bottom button, her index fingers and thumbs working at it, her little fingers tucking under the waistband of his pants, using proximity to tease. He reached down, unzipping his fly and as she removed the last button on his shirt, and he immediately began to work his arms and legs free, desperate to feel her skin against his. When he was rid of all but his boxers, he pulled her against him, their stomachs pressing together, her hips wiggling to get out of her pants and the stimulation of them against his pelvis was making his breath catch.
His heart began to pound, his body tensing anxiously. She shifted away from him, opening her eyes and searching his face. "Are you nervous?"
It was the first verbal indication of what they were both thinking. He didn't want to admit it, but he knew he couldn't be convincing otherwise. "I am. I, uh..." he frowned. "I am."
She rested her hand on his hip. "Walter, have...have you ever done this before?"
She asked the question as if the possibility had never occurred to her. He broke their eye contact. "The thing is...I never trusted anyone enough. Even if I had wanted to."
"Oh..." He looked back at her and saw surprise in her eyes. He let out a shaky breath and Paige pressed her nose against his cheek. "You don't have to be nervous."
Yes he did, he thought. It wasn't as simple as performance anxiety. He knew the mechanics of it all. What was a complete unknown to him was how exactly it would all feel, and not just physically – he'd been told that this was even better when the people involved loved each other, and even now, laying in bed with Paige, both of them in their underwear, the heat from their bodies filling the small space between them, he was right on the edge of being overwhelmed.
"Hey," she said, smiling a smile meant to put him at ease. "It's me. It's you and me."
Exactly. He hadn't truly understood what it was like to be attracted to someone until her. He'd been capable of identifying women who were nice to look at in the past, but it was more of an understanding that they were attractive, and not so much finding them attractive himself. She, like usual, was a different story. He was fixated on how her hair fell around her shoulders. He loved the natural color in her lips and he'd become more and more distracted every second he wasn't kissing them. His eyes lingered on her skin and tonight, with almost none of her covered up, he couldn't decide if he was more obsessed with looking at her the way she was or with wanting to remove her two pieces of underwear and just take in all of her. He had never been this fixated on the physical aspects of a person, but with her this close in this context, his body wasn't letting him forget how much hers appealed to him. He'd always used hunger as an excuse for behavior that he couldn't quite explain. He felt a different kind of hunger now.
She moved closer, her lips near his ear. "Walter," she said, her voice soothing. "Try to relax. It's okay, I promise it's okay." She kissed his cheek, then his lips, her hand on the side of his face. Her kisses were slow, tender, calming, and he found his breath coming easier. Then, probably not as suddenly as it seemed, her lips were on his neck and she simultaneously scooted closer again, her hips coming into contact with his and he moaned, loudly, his fingertips pressing hard against the soft skin between her hip and rib cage. He rolled closer, pushing her from her side to her back, placing his hand between her hips and dipping it under the fabric there. She writhed, moaning and bucking her hips against his hand, once, twice, three times. Her lips were hot against his neck and it just served as another reminder of just how close she was to him. Of where they were.
Her hand slid down his stomach and over his boxers, slowly, teasingly, enough so he knew she was there, and he understood the urgency with which she'd jerked against his hand moments before. He dropped his hips so they were against hers and ground them together, both of them still wearing items that prevented what they really wanted, but for the moment, he didn't mind. Her eyes were closed, her head tipped back, and with each movement he made she was letting out little gasps that sounded as perfect as the sounds of the B whatever they'd listened for the previous day when trying to save Toby.
He wanted to tease her. He wanted to prolong it. He lowered his lips to her throat and sucked lightly, pleased at the mark he left when he moved on, pleased at the way she wriggled beneath him in response to every move he made.
But she was teasing him too, dancing her fingers across his skin, holding his hips and stopping him from having complete control over their motions, holding him in place, rubbing against him and making him moan again. Every breath he took was audible on the exhale, and she seemed to like that as much as he liked her gasps.
She reached for his boxers again, trying to tug them down. He reached down to help her, ridding himself of them, and went to tug at her underwear, but she was already there, tugging the irritating fabric free and wiggling it down her legs.
Walter looked down at her face. He felt like a cliché, but he had to. He had to take her in before they took the plunge. He saw her looking back up at him, her eyes locked on his. Her cheeks were flushed, her pupils dilated, her lips swollen from all the kissing.
It was a look he could get used to.
He lowered his head, nuzzling her with his nose as she lifted her hips. He hesitated for a brief instant. He'd be completely vulnerable...but then again, so would she.
She trusts you. You trust her. He remembered Happy's words, and he'd told Collins just the day before that he understood what it was like to need a safe space. And she was his ultimate haven.
He fumbled slightly, lifting himself off of her to hold her hips as he entered her, and he was surprised when she reached up and grabbed his wrists.
"Slower."
He had thought he was going slowly, and her plea made him go completely still, afraid of doing something wrong. "What did I do?"
"Nothing." She shook her head. "It's just...been a while."
Her body wasn't used to this anymore. Of course. Walter let go of her hips and lowered himself over her again, counting to three and then pushing his hips forward, slowly, seeing how far he could go, waiting for her body to tense and prepared to stop before it began to protest. He reached that point and stopped, searching her face for a sign that it was okay to continue.
Her eyes were on him; he could see the love reflected in them and he kissed her, deeply, his body quivering with the effort it was taking not to move. He focused on the kiss, the way she rolled his lower lip between hers. "How do I help?" he asked quietly, not knowing if she only needed a moment or if there was something he could do. He hadn't thought that she might start out uncomfortable, and it made him doubt himself again.
Her voice was breathy as she answered. "I'm okay." She put her lips on him again, starting to roll beneath him, and he moved with her, as slowly as he could. Their motions were awkward for a minute, out of sync, and then they fell into a rhythm. Their mouths were against each other, open, lips barely touching, trading hot breaths that matched the tempo of their bodies.
He lightly closed his teeth around her upper lip, just for a moment, and he moaned again as her Kegel muscles tightened and made him see stars. "You..." he panted, trying to focus enough to speak. "You feel good."
Her eyes were almost completely closed, her hands on his neck. "God, so do you," she whispered. "So do you."
Her muscles kept tightening at the same point in their rhythm, and he realized she must be doing it on purpose. God. He wasn't going to last very long. He tried to focus his breathing, in two three out five six, but that tactic only worked for a minute or two. Her head was back against the pillow, she was still gasping, he was making her that way and it was that sight and that knowledge that nearly drove him over the edge.
Everything about this was good. So good.
He realized he hadn't touched her bra, and he fumbled slightly before finally locating the hooks and she squirmed out of it and finally every inch of her was before him, his spine curved as he lowered his tongue to one of her nipples and she thrust her chest upward at him while the first syllable of his name escaped her lips and he never thought being called Wal would be such an experience.
The muscle tightening was happening faster now, feeling more like a spasm than a calculated action, and he hoped that meant she was close because he was too, his breath was ragged and he could feel his heart pounding, he could barely control what his body was doing, and he kept teasing her breasts as he shifted, changing the angle of his hips just slightly, knowing it would be soon and desperate to bring her with him. He reached a hand down between them, careful to not touch her where she was too sensitive, but close, providing a bit of friction with his thumb, and she let out a sound that he might have misinterpreted as pained if he couldn't feel her pulsing around him and if he wasn't able to see the look of complete ecstasy on her face.
He felt her fingers dig into him as her body shuddered beneath him, enough to cause him alarm if they were in any other situation. The feel of her around him as she finished was enough to send Walter over the edge, his hips jerking involuntarily and a long moan coming from deep within him. His arms gave out and he collapsed on her, his muscles throbbing in a way he'd never thought possible. His hips twitched a few more times, then they both lay still, his weight pushing her down against the mattress, his cheek against hers. They were both gasping, struggling to return to a normal respiratory pattern, but he managed to regulate enough to turn his head, his lips close to her ear.
He wanted to speak, but what to say? There were not words to describe how he felt about what they had just done. He wanted to stay like this, keep the skin – to – skin contact, keep the feeling of closeness, even keep the sweat and the trembling muscles and the feeling of vulnerability because when it was with her he decided he welcomed it, wanted to continue to put his emotional safety in her hands because she would take care of it.
"Walter," she mumbled, once again able to complete his name. She slid a hand up to run through his hair.
"I love you," he whispered. He'd said it before, earlier, but it needed to be said again. He knew she understood how significant it was that he'd chosen to do this with her, but he needed her to really, really know. She was everything. The only one.
He shifted his weight off of her, glad when she rolled with him, keeping their contact. She slid an arm across his stomach and rested her head against him, her mouth still open. He slid his arms around her; he didn't want her to move away. Ever.
"You, uh," she said, still out of breath as she lifted her head and regarded him. "You okay?"
"Uh huh," he said, still not capable of forming a complex thought. "Uh huh."
She lowered her mouth to his, kissing him slowly and sweetly. "You sure?"
He smiled affectionately at her.
"If we fall asleep we'll be charged another night."
He smiled at her. "I don't care."
"You're not in that big rush to get back to the garage?" She asked teasingly.
He tugged her closer. "No."