Story: I couldn't help but
wonder: What are Sara's thoughts on when she and Grissom first became
intimate? So here is my idea. It's pretty fluffy.
Disclaimer: looks at lines
above I guess I mentioned names. So CBS owns it all. Whatever...
Spoilers: 08x02
First times
"When did you become intimate?"
What a strange question.
How does one define intimacy? How do
you define a feeling? An emotion? Is sex intimate? The moment of giving
ones body entirely to another person. Or is it the moment you realize
that you have lost yourself in one another? That in fact is is your
heart and soul that are captivated not just your physical being.
How do you answer a question without
knowing it's definition?
Maybe it's not the answer that matters but the act of thinking about the question.
We had spent a few mornings together.
We had shared meals, had taken turns preparing them. We had gone out
a few times. We had done our laundry together and gotten shared
groceries. We had been to work and we had set boundaries. We had
kissed and we had had sex.
I enjoyed those times together and yet
it was on that particular Sunday when for the first time I felt
intimacy.
I had gone home with you after work, an
understanding that needed no elaboration. I just walked out with you
and sat down in your car. We went home to your place, engaging in
conversation on some topic I don't remember. You made the dinner as I
took the dog for a short walk. We ate while talking about everything
and nothing. Discussing what to do on our next free day, what movies
were playing at the theater, touching on politics and completely
ignored anything work related. We shared a shower before we climbed
into bed where we feel a sleep after reading for a little while. It
was the first night I slept well in your bed. The first night my body
seemed accustomed to the presence of yours, to the scents. And maybe
we both finally stopped stealing the sheets.
For the first time there was nothing
awkward about waking up next to you. In a bed shared with someone
else, not wishing I had spent the night in the comfort of my own
apartment. Not noticing morning breath or unfamiliar scents, having
gotten familiar with each other. We didn't wake up in uncomfortable
positions, didn't have to figure out what happened to the sheets. I
woke up rested and calm and I peace with myself. I felt no need to
assure myself of your presence because I knew you were right there on
the other side of the bed, slowly waking up yourself.
You yawned and I felt you stir before
you wrapped your arms around me and I moved into the welcoming nook
of your body. My back against your chest, embraced by your warmth. I
loved the way your skin felt against mine. Your face in my hair, your
breath so close to my ear. My hands were entwined with yours and just
like this we laid there, falling in and out of sleep for a while.
Enjoying the feeling of being with each other. Of being warm and
held. Your free hand stroking my fingers, lazily wandering up my
arms, down to my waist. My eyes were closed allowing me to focus on
your touch. Your movements were slow and light and gave me goosebumps
which made me smile.
Eventually your movements became more
determined. First only a kiss on my neck, followed by more. Your
hand stroking the skin right underneath my breasts. Carefully
avoiding any too sensitive areas. But stroking me with more pressure,
more guidance. I breathed in our scent and the sweet tension building
up in between us. How you pressed against my behind, your hand on the
curve of my hip, then stroking my thigh.
I moved even closer towards you, slowly
as you spread the caress of your lips and tongue over my neck. I
lifted my leg and placed it over yours, my foot gliding down your
calf. You got the hint and your roaming hand finally reached my most
intimate area, causing me to moan and reach back to run my hands
through your hair. I pushed my behind into your hardening erection as
you took your time pleasuring me, causing me to grind into you harder
and harder. You sighed into my ear while your teeth played with my
earlobe.
You finally sent me over the edge and
panting heavily I turned around in your arms.
When I looked into your eyes, there
wasn't the passion and lust I expected to see. I was surprised to
find care. You smiled and when your lips came down on mine and your
tongue slid into my mouth I felt a weigh fall of my shoulders. I was
able to just give in, allowing my hand to wander down your stomach
returning the favor. Smiling, I took pleasure in the reaction on your
face. Your closed eyes, the complete relaxation and your loss of
control over your expressions.
That morning we didn't have sex. Instead we made love for the first time. It was silent and slow and sweet. A romantic moment only mixed with inconvenient lighting, messy hair and the scent of a night spent together intermingled with the musk of our bodies. Afterwards we remained as we were, neither one of us wanting to be the one to move away So instead we just laid as we were. Our sweat mixing, still heavily breathing.
I never used the term love making. Judging it to be overused and commercialized. Too surreal and distant from what it meant to me. I never believed in the concept of "making love". Never believed that there was such a thing, something so different from just having sex. From that primal act. Different from everything I had been familiar with. I judged by my experiences made with other men. Even the ones made with you. It had always been about satisfaction. Urgency needing relief.
Up until this morning.
That Sunday changed my mind. It changed my feelings towards it entirely. It changed my feelings towards you. There was no distraction by any talk, music or any of that. It was about us. About two people finally opening up to each other. Two people being content just being together. The way you looked at me. Payed such close attention to my body and my needs. Your gentle touch, your confidence when you allowed me to give you the same. The complete loss of insecurity. There were no boundaries. There were no masks to hide behind. No worry about how my hair looked, not a thought wasted on anything but the moment itself.
Later that day you would tell me you
loved me for the first time.
And for the first time I would reply
using those words and truly understand their meaning.
