AN: Nothing On My Tongue - The Outtakes. There's an incredibly off-colour joke somewhere in here, which I'm sure you can see and I won't beat you over the head with. Takes place right at the end of chapter 12.

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So, it's possible that the way he kisses her? Yeah, that wild swoop in her stomach and how it leaves her breathless and how she never wants to stop, is just not going away.

She's tried chalking it up to how new it all is but also, she can't stop thinking about all that stuff, how things are more serious because they were already friends and already sort of close and mostly, Winnie spends half the time they're together completely caught up in him and the other half terrified of something she can't put her finger on.

It's just-fucking Dahlia was right, there's a lot more pressure here when she thinks about all the ways this could go wrong, all the ways it could end. And it is more serious, even though they've only been out a few times (and she has been out with other guys before, it's just - it's not like this). It's not bad, it's just surprising, the way he waits for her after work, how he calls her first thing on their days off, wants to see her every day.

Even so, she keeps insisting on running back to her apartment after shift, even when he rolls his eyes at her, tells her that he's going to come and pick her up anyway or that they'll end up meeting up somewhere in the middle of their two places but he lets it go and it's just, she just doesn't want him to get like, sick of her.

Then she thinks about how he keeps just dropping her at her apartment, never comes in, never suggests they go to his place, not since that night they went for yogurt and she's just not sure.

It's just like - okay, they go for walks and they go skating and they go to movies and they spend a lot of time talking (and making out in his car, which is just like, apparently she's fifteen all over again) and he always shuts them down right when they could be arrested for indecent exposure.

Winnie's getting a little frustrated over the whole thing, actually, feels like she's walking around turned on all the time, it's ridiculous.

(The thing is, she also can't really complain – like just last night, he told her to dress warm, showed up at her door with a back pack, took her hand and led her to a park. And okay, at first she was all like 'what the hell are we doing at a park at night?' but then he'd set a sleeping bag on the ground, told her to take a seat and whipped out a thermos of hot chocolate. He'd tossed her a bag of mini marshmallows, pulled a blanket across them and apparently she can now check outdoor picnic in the middle of winter off her bucket list.)

He helps her bring her groceries inside one afternoon before shift (he goes fucking grocery shopping with her so really, she just wants to know why he doesn't want to get naked with her) and she's ninety percent sure he's going to do that thing he usually does which is suggest they go out and 'do something' so she puts on a movie and they watch it and she has no idea at all what they're watching because all she's thinking about is how his hand feels running idly up and down her arm. It's like Pavlov and his dogs, Spike's hands on her and her just like, ready.

She kisses him first.

Just turns her head and then pulls him closer by the back of his neck. Literally three and a half minutes later, he has her in his lap, legs straddling his hips and his hands firmly on her thighs, painting lazy lines from her knees up to her back. His lips are on her neck and throat and Winnie's pretty sure she's whimpering against his shoulder, this noise she's not sure has ever come out of her mouth before.

He pulls her sweater up and off over her head and she kind of wishes she'd thought to put on a tank top that isn't a little stretched out and loose and possibly a better bra too. Whatever, doesn't matter, this is something she can work with, tugs on his t-shirt until he pulls that off too and there's just warm skin and heat and she's not even remotely nervous, isn't even thinking about tugging him into her bedroom, thinks that just here is fine with her.

It is entirely possible that he gets her off twice while she's still fully clothed, mouth biting down on that spot right above her collarbone that no one else has ever even found before. She slumps against him after the second one, his hands moving to the skin on her back, underneath her tank top, warm and slow against her. Her legs are completely jellofied, takes her a second to push away from him and then slide onto the floor.

"What are you-"

Like he doesn't know, hello, she's on her knees here, unbuttons his jeans and yes, apparently this is a thing they are going to do while they're both still wearing half their clothes.

She feels like a genius when he chokes out her name, her mouth sliding onto him.

He is-he's polite. She can't think of any other word for it, doesn't even touch her hair, let alone grasp her head or force it anywhere she doesn't want it to go, barely moves his hips at all and okay, it's been a while since she did this but it's not like any other guy has ever complained so she doesn't have any reason to think it's something she's not at least passably good at. He gasps a little, holds his breath and okay, she's going to have to assume that he's just quiet and polite and apparently has no tells whatsoever, only then she thinks of his teeth sinking into any skin they can find, fingers tightening on her waist almost hard enough to bruise and she's pretty sure that this is just not-

She links their fingers together, squeezes his hands, feels like doing a little dance when he squeezes back, hard. So she tugs on them until he follows her, right into her hair and she feels him freeze against her the second he does.

It's actually kind of sweet of him, except that this is one time where she doesn't really want him to be either sweet or thoughtful (has this brief second of like what in the hell has even gotten into her, wants him to lose control or something, she doesn't even know) so she looks up at him, makes eye contact, gets her mouth off him for a second and says, "Come on."

Ostensibly, that's what gets him moving because then he's pulling on her hair in a way which should be completely unattractive but isn't at all, wrapping pieces of it around one fist, hips up against her and yes, yes this is what she was hoping for.

He chokes out, "Winnie, hang on-"

She ignores him entirely, is focused on the task at hand, wants to taste him - which, okay, who is she because this is not something she generally enjoys swallowing and any girl who says otherwise is probably lying-

Well.

Apparently, she's a liar.

There's this five second interval afterwards where he kind of just stares down at her in what looks like disbelief before he reaches down and hauls her back up into his lap, gets his hands on either side of her face (and like, okay, she is conscious of keeping her lips closed here, even as she runs her tongue over her teeth) and then kisses her hard, tongue right up in there. She ends up laughing into his mouth, even as they break apart and he kisses her on the nose.

He starts talking and stops three times before he just huffs. "Okay so...unexpected."

She grins, figures that getting someone off in record time is only ever a good thing, levers herself up and off his lap, pulling her damp hair off her neck and up into a ponytail. "You want anything?" She just feels a whole heck of a lot less on edge and also like, really really pleased with herself.

He just shakes his head wordlessly at her and she's pretty sure that she has a huge grin on her face even as she gets a glass of water, drains the whole thing and then reaches into her kitchen cupboard for some mints. She watches him stand up, eyes fixed on the long lines of his back, thinks that it's pretty criminal of him to look that way, hair all messy and jeans still unbuttoned. He glances at her, shakes his head sheepishly and then disappears into her bathroom. She stretches out on the couch, thinks probably she should consider cleaning up and you know, a change of underwear at the very least.

She checks the time and regretfully realizes that she's probably going to be late for work and they're going to have to speed the whole way there to make sure he's not late for work out.

He leans over her, one hand braced against the back of the couch, smiles at her, kisses her so gently she barely feels the kiss at all. She is seriously disappointed when she has to push him away so that she can get dressed.