Thanks to Eric for the slightly-evil beta. Rawr.
The first time they attempted to make love, they nearly forgot who they were, holding back gasps and digging in fingers too deeply.
When he'd kissed her, that first time in bed, so sweetly and sadly, a fine little thing, she almost sobbed. This was the Josh she'd known, that she couldn't tell other people about, that no one knew about.
This was the Josh that would place a placating hand on her back and make everything seem okay. This was the Josh that could set aside matters of national security and comfort her, amuse her, humor her... this was the Josh that no one knew.
That alone made her sad; it depressed her, how he was only a real person when he was with her, when he allowed himself to slip up and break down. To other women, that fact would be enough to succumb to the endless forever that he was offering, but Donna couldn't help but wonder—as her hands splayed against his shoulders—why this was happening.
His hiccoughs and quiet words did nothing to spur her forward, but only made her movements sluggish and unsure. He placed a hand Hee placed a handHon her hip and she gasped, surprised by the gesture, his fingers wisping against the crisp hotel sheets. Big blue eyes focused not on his tan skin but on the textured ceiling above her and she begged her nerves to feel pleasure and not trepidation.
Donna almost wished she didn't know him this well, wished she couldn't fathom his feelings from the way his muscles were tensed, the way his jaw was set, the pressure with which he grasped her skin. But she could, and she knew that it was all wrong. "Josh... Jo-Josh..."
Lifting his head, she tilted her face and took in his pale features, the sweat beading on his temples, the wrinkles that slipped around his eyes and the lines that lifted his mouth. Nothing was right. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. Then again, she wasn't sure how it was supposed to happen…
Hotel beds weren't foreign to either of them and strange cities were all-too-familiar but this, this wasn't how it was supposed to happen. Not anonymous and without words, they were talkative by nature and it troubled her, the fact that neither had really spoken since they had hit the mattress..
"What?" he croaked, his cheeks flushing in a manner that she'd only seen once or twice, more than few times while being reprimanded by CJ. "Donna..."
A deep breath expanded her lungs and she brought a hand to his cheek as gently as she could manage, but she was shaking so hard, "What are we doing?" She asked, proud, her voice only broke a little. Falling in love had happened years before but this was the moment that would test that fall, the moment that would make or break. "Really."
A blink and a blink and another blink and Donna smiled sadly, allowing her hand to fall to his strong shoulder as he stared blankly into her eyes. She swallowed a sob and he saw it and she smiled and it wasn't as awkward as it could have been.
As it should have been.
Slits of sodium light peeked from beyond the heavy wool drapes and she focused her eyes on that instead, focused on something other than his weight shifting off of her, anything other than his staccato-sad breathing.
On his back, Josh drew the sheet up to his chest, sparing her a glance only to make sure she too was covered.
Donna kept his eyes on him, watched as his chest rose and fell, watched as he swallowed, the tendons of his neck working in such an erotic manner that she wondered how she resisted kissing his carotid until now.
There was a gravity to his eyes, something that pulled at the bottom lids. And there was a tightness in his cheeks, a tension in his jaw that had her worrying, worrying as she always did about him. Josh's lips moved and then stopped and then moved again but it seemed as though there were words trapped in his throat, cementing so he couldn't speak them.
His arm flung back down to the mattress but his eyes were still clamped shut. "I need to say... I need to say something."
Donna nodded even though she couldn't see him. It was of an emotional nature, she was sure of it, because if it was of any other variety he could have faced her with lucid eyes and spoken. Perhaps he was about to tell her that the whole situation was wrong, that it was a mistake, that this wasn't what he'd intended.
He was going to let it all go, tell her everything she wanted to hear and she was frightened of hearing it, terrified, and she didn't know why. She'd thought of him speaking the words, using wine and music and other things, but she'd never really imagined his eyes, or his mouth, the way his lips would contort to form the words. She'd never, ever thought about how she would react, or how she would prepare. "If I say it, you'll..."
"Then don't say it," she said gently, without judgment.
The rustling of the sheets surprised her as he rolled to his side, curls everywhere, looking like he hadn't slept in months; it would have been endearing if she wasn't so emotionally worse-for-the-wear. "But I want to," came the rushed explanation with a hint of a smile tinting his chapped lips. "I've wanted to do this for years."
'To do this...' Defense mechanism kicking in, she too smiled, "I'm sure you're one of a long list of men who—"
"I love you." It was clipped, rushed, almost angry, the way he spoke it, clamping his eyes shut as he said it. And rolling onto his back, Josh threw his arm across his eyes, cringing at what he'd said, at the stupid mistake. It wasn't his move, and he wasn't in his element.
All things considered, Joshua Lyman was rather slick in seducing women, but this wasn't about seduction, this was about that elusive sort of 'forever' that so few people seemed to be able to stumble upon. They were in bed, such a cliché venue for his reserve to break, so mundane, but the way he was avoiding her, fearing that she felt the same way...
They both feared that they were in love with the other.
Josh peeked one eye open and glanced at her with the right side of his face scrunched up; she smiled, couldn't help it. "I mean, I'm... I think, yeah... yeah... I'm in love with you." The other eye opened and he risked a glance at her; the air conditioner hummed and he blinked and she was so amused that a laugh slipped past her lips.
"Yeah?" All of a sudden, the situation was terribly amusing to her.
Josh's lips twitched, "Yeah, yes, I don't know, yes..."
Donna laughed quietly and turned onto her side, bangs falling into her eyes, "You don't know—"
"I'm in love with you," he said while lying on his right side, left hand grasping her hip. "You think I'd let this happen otherwise? Jesus, Donna I..."
She rolled her eyes; as much as she needed to hear the words, wanted to hear the words, she was unbelievably frightened by what he was saying to her; it meant too much, he meant too much. Josh, you would never say that, okay..." Her voice was sweet and quiet and unconvincing. "So, just, let's not say things like that."
On their sides, facing each other in an anonymous hotel bed, they held their resolve and didn't break eye contact. "I'm certain on that, I'm sure about that, about you, you..." He fumbled around his words, seeking the right ones.
They both blinked and stared and waited for the moment to shift; it didn't. "I know you are," Donna said, nodding her agreement.
There was a weight to the moment, a weight to the entire situation that they both felt, that they both felt descending on them, something that was so heavy that it would swallow them up as soon as they both admitted the truth. A decisive moment that would prove to be that point-of-no-return place that they had so long treaded along.
"What do you want me to say?" he said in such a way that was as much an answer as it was a question.
Donna closed her eyes and finally admitted to herself that there was something that she needed to happen. "I need you to ask me…"
"Do you love me?" he asked with wide, brown eyes; expectant eyes, eyes that begged her to pretend that he didn't ask, that she hadn't made him ask. "Is this what I think it is?"
Donna's faced screwed up in pain, but then she smiled, her eyes still closed, "Oh god, is this what I think it is?"
A chuckle broke the silence and her gaze broke just as he rolled over to place his lips against hers. There was a deep kiss, tongue stroking against tongue that left Donna feeling more naked than she had in her entire life.
"In the interest of full disclosure," she gasped against his cheek, "You should know..." He wanted to say 'You should know you're the only woman I could love, marry, have children with, fathom sharing a refrigerator with forever...'
But he left it at that and kissed her, pressed her onto her back and swallowed the thick lump in his throat. She gasped and he gasped and they moved together but he couldn't help the words that bubbled from his your throat, "This is the only thing I've ever needed." Slipping inside of her, they both stilled.
He shuddered, slamming his eyes shut while she gazed at him in wonder and amusement and maybe (absolutely) love, "You're the only thing I've ever needed."
Her fingers curled into his shoulders and she forgot that this wasn't supposed to be something so normal; this was a milestone and though her mind told her to stop and savor the sensations, her hips lifted to join them completely. She wanted to say the same thing back, that he was all she needed, wanted to tell him that this was about love and seven years, seven years of dancing around this... and they were both terrible dancers.
But she settled for closing her eyes and allowing him to rest his head in the crook of her neck as he moved; her breath puffed against his ear as he grunted, his sweat slicking her skin and the sweat from hers kissing back.
When he came, she ran her fingers through his hair and pulled his head up, looking into his eyes as she swallowed and tried to calm her erratic breathing. Donna couldn't stop touching, her thumbs skirting around his hairline to press against his temples, holding his face in her hands, lightly.
Josh smiled at her as a droplet of sweat rolled down to an eyebrow, adhering and spreading. "Yeah…" he breathed, warm breath licking her face.
"Yeah," she agreed with her own version of his smile.
He rolled off of her, onto his back though he sought her left hand with his right one.
They threaded fingers as the inevitable post-coital awkwardness set in but they both supposed that was how it was supposed to be, if they were going to do it properly.