Insatiable:AlchemyDream
A/N: Just a little sexy, light-hearted EmJay...something to counter all the other drama I've been writing lately. It's actually kinda smutty (smut-lite, if you will), haha, so you've been warned. I needed to do something relatively dialog free, so tell me how it works! Please enjoy!
Summary: Touch was never considered. Never was it explored, initiated, allowed. Touch closed the space between right and wrong, forever eliminating the line that she relied on.
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Touch was never considered. Never was it explored, initiated, allowed. Touch closed the space between right and wrong, forever eliminating the line that she had relied on for so long. Now, as she moved silently in his arms, against his body, she knew that it had never been necessary.
A glance, a knowing smirk, a little alcohol was all it had taken in the end.
What had compelled her to come in the first place hadn't mattered once she crossed that threshold. Nothing else was real, school, the air she breathed. Because she only breathed him. Her reality, her existence was "the nice girl at one of those kinds of parties". Somehow, her not-so-better judgment had led her to that basement again, the one where the the ones she longed to be found themselves, found love, or a love-substitute, for the night.
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"Take a mask." the college age girl at the entrance to the house had said, offering a silver tray stacked with an array of personalities for Emma to choose from. The ability to be someone else for a few hours-an offer she couldn't refuse. Strapping the elastic banded mask around her face, she became not Emma Nelson, but a blue jean goddess equipped with an arsenal of guiltless sex appeal.
They all took on a new glow. The lost, the faceless misguided youth, seemed to know just what they wanted. They wanted drugs, they wanted sex. They wanted candy sweetness, they wanted physicality with no strings attached. That's what beckoned them here, to this sanguine-laved, glowing basement in Toronto, devoid of words, save the glamourous pleas for what would both nourish them and destroy them.
Girls not much younger than herself painted themselves in pinks and reds, giving them the look of stained angels, as they wound their bodies gracefully around the masked hero of the night, the one that would sweep them off their feet and into the bedroom.
There are no words, there's only truth.
Truth, the universe came into being upon first contact. It was an electric jolt. She wouldn't admit she knew he would be here, even if he knew for a fact that's why she was here. And with a smirk behind the black mask, he promised not to disappoint. He knew she never went to these kinds of parties. Not with drinking or sex. But he was dripping with hard liquor and sex. And when he removed her jacket among the gyrating mass, he knew she needed it.
That's what he liked about her. She never admitted to needing things. She just took them.
Breathe in, breathe out, there is no sound.
He had discovered at a young age the power of music. It could transform people. It could practically change one's DNA, synchronizing even the most stubborn heart to pulse in time with it. Even here, in this midnight basement, among the lowest of Toronto, he watched her shine, as she slung her lanky arm around his shoulders.
She hated hip-hop, hard rock, everything he liked. She like vapid club beats with thumping bass, sweeping melodies that never let go. Sounds that captured her, that allowed her to capture him. And she always did.
He wedged a knee between her thighs to help close the space. He wanted contact, full body if possible. He wanted to find them as close to sex as she would let them be. He knew the consequences...he knew that hours later he'd find himself lying in his bed hopelessly unsatisfied, insatiable, wishing it was her hand around his dick rather than his own. But for now, the sweet, if distant warmth she provided would have to do.
"I knew you'd come." he said. "Don't hide." Jay pulled the sparkly purple sequin party favour from her face, her hair ruffling. She smiled a smouldering smile, brushing her lips against his ear.
"You knew no such thing." she whispered. Jay shivered internally.
It frustrated him to no end that she never took his own mask off. She wanted something faceless, something ambigious, anonymous.
But Jay wanted something real. He wanted something tangible. She was everything, at least for a few hours. She was grace, religion, peace, dare he say, love? This girl, this little one that he had despised for ther unrelenting virtue, her untouchable beauty, her unreachable presence, now in his grip, his hands roaming over pronounced hip bones, exposed shoulder blades, the delicate contour where the armpit turned to the small swell of a silk-clad breast. Suddenly five senses weren't enough. He needed a sixth sense, something that could detect the aura he knew was there, the one that causes them to meld flesh where they touched, the one that provided a soft, dizzying hum that made him feel dreamy and detached.
And he knew sex wouldn't be enough.
He could never reach her through sex, if he ever got that far. It was an answer he didn't have, a problem he tried to solve night after night with her in his arms, detached and aloof.
Emma found herself falling backwards, her knees bending on contact with the couch arm. She leaned back, letting her back hit the plush velvet cushions, Jay's weight falling gently on her. He covered her as best as he could. He reached up to remove his own mask.
"Don't." Emma said, pressing it back to his cheeks. Jay said nothing, but moved down to press his lips against hers. He surrounded her, like air, his cologne sweet and musky, the smell of cigarettes and chocolate.
He was warm.
He continued grinding gently, careful not to crush her small frame. His mouth sought something he'd never find, deepening a bourbon-tinged kiss with whispered questions and answers. Hands roamed, fingers brushed against cheeks, never for a second considering the people dancing and smoking and drinking around them. That's what the masks were for, after all. Her fingers untucked his shirt, brushing against skin for a moment, and without warning, she pushed them upright with all the force in her body.
"I've got to go." She picked up her jacket and made her way to the door, throwing down the mask, without so much of a goodbye. Jay sat, untucked, ruffled, and in general disarray, staring incredulously in front of him. His heart continued to pound in the aftermath of his unsuccessful conquest, his eyes wide with confusion.
You crazy fool.
His subconscious cackled as he slumped backwards, watching the couples dance around him, the door that had been shut in his face. Again. His hands ached from her touch, his head ached from the hurricane her presence provoked. Jay rubbed his blue eyes, biting his lip until he drew blood.
He felt hopelessly insatiable.
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Thank you for reading, hopefully it wasn't to...ahem...I don't know. It just sorta spewed out from my head tonight.
Just as a side note, please consider donating to the Red Cross! Help out the victims of Hurricane Katrina, every little bit helps! Thanks so much. Take care, and reviews are love! XOXO