This takes place after 14x14 and fits in with the events of 14x15.
She doesn't know why she does it, but seeing him there sparks something in her. She wants him to come, even though he couldn't care less about games and hates her competitive, be-all-end-all attitude. "Oh hey, I'm heading to my house for game night. I know you hate games, but you wanna come?"
"Uh, no." He answers quickly, giving her a tiny smirk. She doesn't take it as rejection, but still feels a little disappointed that he won't be joining her. She knows he has his issues with their tumor marriage, but she misses him. She misses her friend, her husband. She still loves him. That hasn't changed. But, then again, she thinks it probably doesn't matter either way because he doesn't still love her. She turns to leave, only stopping at his next words. "But thank you for helping me with that kid today."
"Yeah, of course."
Owen, however, doesn't stop there. "He was an idiot."
"Yeah," Amelia agrees easily.
Taking a leap, he says, "And I think I am, too."
"What?" She's confused to say the least. Segue much?
Owen continues as if she hadn't spoken. "That kid was rambling about, ya know, things he hadn't said and...I was thinking about you." The words are honest, raw, but he's not embarrassed to admit to them. "And about how great you've been and about how easy you made just everything, and I'm grateful. I'm grateful for you." There's more, so much more, but he doesn't want to overwhelm her. After all, he's grateful for her acting so graciously when he's thrown curveball after curveball at her. She doesn't deserve more trouble, more baggage from him. So, instead, he simply smiles.
He turns too quickly to notice her contemplating her next words. "Grateful enough to give me sex?" she asks, lips pursed in question.
"What?" He looks up quickly. He's afraid he's imagining things. She couldn't have possibly said that out loud, could she? Sure, he wants it, he wants it with her, but he can't do that. They can't do that. They're friends. They're exes. They've hurt each other too many times.
"I'm sorry. I just um… I miss sex." She winces internally at his furrowed, incredulous brows. She realizes the rest spills out of her mouth unfiltered, but it is what it is. She's dug herself a hole. "I mean, not the complication or the absurdities of romance or crazy tumor marriage, just the act. And there are other options, but they are less appealing options, and maybe it's just that I know how good we are at it or maybe it's because your whole military doctor thing was so damn hot today," she says as he nods with a smile on is face, "but uh...Sorry! God! Sorry, uh, I don't want you to feel used."
And it's in this moment that he makes a rash, and decidedly unwise, decision. She still cares and he still cares-that much is clear. She doesn't want him to feel used and he feels the same about her feelings. He doesn't know how they fit together anymore, and he has no idea the ramifications tomorrow will bring, but fuck it, he doesn't care.
Walking to close and lock the door, Owen then turns to face Amelia. He feels desire course through his veins as she looks him up and down, no shame about it. "Amelia," he meets her eyes, "I want you to use me in every way you can think of."
He worries about her reaction-sure, she suggested it, but to be so blunt and crass in their current state? He's unsure. Luckily for him, she responds immediately, dropping her purse and meeting his eyes. He mumbles a "yeah" and she nods, a large smile gracing her warm features. Before he can prepare himself, she leans in, kissing him hard on the mouth. Her hands come to frame his face and he responds in kind, shucking off her jacket. They're immediately in sync, her jumping into his arms as he lifts her up, never breaking their lip lock. After a short walk to the couch, he drops her onto it, his heart bursting at her childlike giggles. She reaches her hands up, stretching for him, and he strips himself of his lab coat and falls on top of her, carefully bracketing his arms around her so as to not crush her with his weight.
She giggles again at his animalistic growl before quickly connecting their mouths once more. She wraps her strong arms around his neck, pulling him closer, not caring about the extra weight. She forces her tongue into his mouth without any challenge from him. However, all too soon, he pulls away and she wants to groan until she feels his lips traveling toward her neck. He reaches his destination quickly and begins to suck, hard enough that she knows it'll leave quite the mark tomorrow. She doesn't stop him though. It feels too good.
"God, Owen," she moans.
"I haven't even gotten to the good stuff yet," he says with a chuckle before finding her pulse point. She sighs, her hands pulling him tighter to the spot.
After having his fun, he leans back, roughly tugging her sweater over her head. "I love the red on you," he says, "but I think it'll be even better on the floor," he finishes huskily.
She chuckles, immediately agreeing with him. He drops it on the floor, and latches onto her breast. He nips gently, tugging the other with his hand, stimulating both, relishing in her heady moans. She pushes his head, trying to get him to go lower, to stop delaying the stripping of her clothes. He takes his time though, licking and nipping as if he may never get the chance to do it again. He assumes that could very well be true.
She groans in frustration and he chuckles around her breast. "Owen," she whines.
"Yes?" He lifts his face, smirking.
"You know what."
He shakes his head playfully but, nevertheless, pops the button open on her jeans. He helps her shimmy out of them, smirking at her enthusiasm. "I told you I missed sex!"
"I know. I can see that."
She hits the back of his head in jest. When her pants are finally on the ground, she reaches for his clothes. "You are wearing entirely too much clothing."
He stops her, though. She looks at him in confusion, before he places her hands above her head. Then, gently, carefully, he slips his fingers under the waistband of her panties and slowly pulls them down her toned legs. He begins to kiss down her stomach, stopping every so often to lick and suck, sometimes leaving a mark.
"I thought I was supposed to be the one-" She inhales deeply as he places a featherly kiss over her sex. "-to use you."
"Maybe I this of this as a preview," he jokes.
She chuckles, but the laugh turns into a long moan when he latches onto her cunt. He kisses and licks, lapping up her juices easily. She's missed this.
Before she can give her longing further thought, he licks long and slow in a way that makes her toes curl.
She shivers in pleasure, relishing in all the sensations. He smiles, lifting his head amongst her protests at the loss of contact. "My Amelia's enjoying this," he teases, unnoticing of the possession displayed in the statement. She, however, tingles at the words.
Squirming, she says, "Yes, she is. But not anymore because he's being a bitc-"
She stops short as he quickly thrusts two fingers into her heat. He locks lips with her and forces his tongue into her mouth as he moves his fingers to match her every move. Her hips start to shift, and he hears her try to mumble through the kiss, but it's too muffled to make out. He takes her cue regardless, curling his fingers and kissing her harder until he feels her falling over the edge. He works her to completion, taking pride in his name falling off her ruby lips.
He lets her catch her breath and is smiling down at her when she finally opens her eyes. "That was amazing."
"We're just getting started." He nips at her collarbone.
She nods. "You bet."
A while later, when they finally take a break, laying sweaty side by side, Owen wraps his arm around her. She smiles slightly. She doesn't know how to do this-how to deal with the emotions that come in waves. She can handle the sex, but lying here with him when all is said and done, just reminds her that she wants more. She wants him in the way she used to have him.
"You okay?" he asks quietly, gently.
She smiles at his concern. He could always read her well. "I'm great," she says, but it falls a little flat.
"You sure?" he asks, turning sideways to face her more directly.
"Yeah." She nods. He wants to ask more, but he's worried it's not his place. Not anymore. She takes a breath. "Ready for round two?"
"Two?" he asks in jest.
"This was our first break." She shrugs, nodding along with her logic.
He laughs heartily. "Okay, okay. Round two." He raises his eyebrows. "Want to move to a more comfortable place?"
"Hm, tired of the couch already?"
"No," he smirks. "I just want to hear you scream."
She blushes, but takes his dirty talk in stride. "Then let's get moving."
They're on the floor of his house-their old home, but they try not to think about that-never having made it to the bed. He's hovering over her, kissing her neck once more, when she surprises him, easily rolling them so she's on top.
He smiles in surprise, loving his new view. He takes her breasts in his hands and fondles them, tweaking the nipples.
She shivers in pleasure, feasting on the slight twinge of pain. "My turn to rock your world."
"Rock my world? How old are you?"
She shakes her head. "Shut up." He goes to protest, but she slides onto him too quickly for more than a satisfied moan to leave his mouth. He inhales sharply, holding her tightly to him.
Chuckling, Amelia teases him by gyrating her hips. She puts pressure on his member, but not enough to give him any sort of relief. "Amelia," he groans, trying to move his hips.
She smirks, and the glint in her eyes lets him know she's going to drag this out as long as possible. She leans down and presses a heated kiss to his lips before kissing down his chest. He watches as her body contorts so she stays rooted in place, licking, sucking, and biting in a way that turns him on even more than he is already, something he didn't think possible.
She rubs her cold hands up and down his chiseled arms, causing goosebumps to rise on the tender flesh. Slowly, she starts to slide up and down, moving up until she's nearly hovering over him, then sliding down until his cock is fully sheathed in her warm, wet heat.
"Amelia," he groans again. She's going slow, too slow. Way too slow. "I need you to move."
"Payback," she says simply. He groans in frustration and she laughs, enjoying the feeling of him filling her, completing her. She will never be able to be with him, in this way, enough.
"God, I need…"
She kisses him, tugging on his red locks. "I know," she says when she pulls away, a sultry smirk on her face.
She starts to move faster, circling her hips, letting him move freely. He immediately reacts, thrusting his hips up to meet her every move, pushing harder, grabbing her arms in a way she thinks will bruise, but she couldn't care less. She tugs harder at his hair, then has to move to his skin because she needs more contact. Her nails scratch up and down his chest as she moves, quickly approaching her release.
Within moments, he comes, filling her deeply, and she tumbles right after, her pleasure radiating from deep within.
Collapsing on top of him, she tries to catch her breath. She feels his labored breaths beneath her, his heart pounding, the beat thumping its unique code against her tender chest. His arms wrap around her and she kisses him shortly. There's a bliss she wishes she could hold onto forever.
When dawn breaks, the sun casting over their tired but happy faces, they decide to make their way to the kitchen. "I'm starving," Amelia says, sliding onto a bar stool after slipping on Owen's scrub top.
He smiles at the shirt drowning her figure. "I gave you a workout," he says cockily.
She shakes her head, rolling her eyes. "Like you didn't get as good as you got."
He nods. "Oh, I definitely did." He turns back around, reaching to grab the pancake mix from the cabinet. "You wanna quit staring at my ass and help me make some pancakes?"
He chuckles as he hears her jump slightly, muttering a curse as she hits her knee on the counter in her haste. She was definitely staring.
She shuffles over to him, grabbing the mix and getting to work, hiding her blush.
"Sausage?" he asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
"Shut up," she says with a smile.
He smiles, then grabs the frozen meat and starts to cook it.
And this? Standing side by side? The domestic after the sex? The easy intimacy? It's incredible, and it never left.
When she turns, she sees his eyes locked on hers. They're soft, oh so soft, but she doesn't want to put herself on the line for something that could be so painful. He ended things. He chose to end their marriage.
But then he speaks. "I don't want to use you. Or for you to use me." He looks up at the ceiling, and she swears she sees his eyes glisten with unshed tears. "And I don't think that's what we did."
"Well," she begins to joke, but he cuts her off with a shake of his head.
"There was more to it. Or at least I thought there was." He meets her eyes, becoming lost in the crystal abyss of her irises. "The feelings, they're still here. I care about you so much."
Her heart begins to flutter at his words, but she tries to tamp it down. She's not sure what's coming next. "And I was wrong. Wrong to let you go." She furrows her brows, prompting him to continue. "I love you. Yes, you hurt me, but it wasn't all your fault. And I hurt you, too. But just because we hurt each other, doesn't mean we can't still make it work." He takes her trembling hands in his. "I want to try to make it work. I mean, if you want that, too."
She sniffles, nodding slightly. "I do." She lets a shaky breath. "I love you, too. I didn't want to hold you back. I didn't want to let you go, but you needed-"
He cuts her off with a sweet kiss. Pulling back he says. "You're amazing."
She pulls him close and hugs him tight, breathing in his scent mingled with hers. Whispering, she says, "I've missed you."
"Me too."
"Can we try to figure this out though, just us, first? Wait to tell people."
"I think that's a great idea," he says easily.
He feels her smile against his bare chest. He places a tender kiss to the top of her head, pulling her closer. He'll never let her go again.
The stay like that for a while until an unpleasant scent tickles their noses. "Dammit!" Owen says, moving his head to see the smoke coming off both pans. He moves to shut the stove off and open the windows.
"This-" Amelia says with a chuckle, pointing between them, "is why the fire department won't come to our house anymore! You're such a distraction," she teases. And, just like that, they are, once more, Owen and Amelia, forever intertwined in the story of time.
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