Disclaimer: This isn't mine. I'm just writing this for fun.

A/n: Thank you all for the reviews! Most of you review my work really consistently and it means the world to me that you take the time to let me know what you think. I hope everyone likes the second part as much as the first, and please be assured that any feedback will be most warmly welcomed.

Wants and Needs

A story by Ryeloza

Part Two

Tom feels completely satiated, euphoric in only the way really great sex can cause, and he's fairly certain he won't be able to move any time soon. For whatever reason Lynette had been in an oddly compliant mindset and they'd had the dirtiest sex he can remember having in quite awhile. Absently, he kisses any inch of her skin in the path of his mouth and from beneath him Lynette murmurs contented little sighs. He pauses, his mouth still on her right shoulder blade, and offhandedly says, "We're going to have to disinfect this table."

Lynette hums in agreement—he can't remember the last time she used actual words and he takes it as a compliment of his abilities—then to his chagrin, braces her hands against the table to push herself up. As much as he wants to use his weight against her and keep her pinned under him, he acquiesces and backs off of her, taking a second to pull up his boxers from where they lay pooled around his feet. Lynette doesn't bother to put her dress back on and he marvels at how sexy she looks strutting around the kitchen naked. After a moment of gawking, he grabs the can of Lysol from her hand. "I'll clean up. You go get ready for bed."

Rolling up onto her tiptoes, Lynette kisses him very briefly. "Thanks."

As Lynette pads up the stairs, Tom starts to spray down the kitchen table, pretty sure he'll have to let the product sit for at least ten minutes before he scrubs down the surface if he really wants it clean. From upstairs he hears the shower start and he sighs; that was another activity he'd hoped they'd do together. Lackadaisically, Tom pulls out one of the kitchen chairs, sits down and props his feet up on another one of the chairs.

He still can't quite believe that Lynette actually asked if they were happy tonight. It was one of those wicked questions that felt like a trap, like there was no right answer, and so he'd sidestepped it as best he could. He's somewhat amazed that his dodges worked. Usually when he pussyfoots around something he puts his foot in his mouth and ends up staring at her cold shoulder in bed, not having mind-blowing sex. It's a nice change of pace.

Truthfully, he knows Lynette's been unsettled the past few months. It's not as though this declaration suddenly came out of the blue. The last trimester of her pregnancy and the first few months after Penny was born, Tom had been able to cut down on his travel for work considerably, and it's only been in the past five months or so that the pace has picked up again. He wishes that she could understand that the time apart is hard for him too, but she seems to think that it's only a challenge for her. If she only knew how lonely he gets in those small, dismal hotel rooms, maybe she wouldn't be so quick to condemn his understanding of the situation. That's part of the problem, of course; she doesn't know. And maybe he should tell her more explicitly, but he doesn't want to spend their time together reliving the loneliness they feel when they're apart.

The sound of the water running stops and Tom takes it as a sign that he's let the table disinfect long enough, so he gets up and scrubs it down thoroughly before shutting off all the lights and heading upstairs. Lynette is already lying in bed, her wet hair twisted up on top of her head, but she throws a lazy smile his way before shutting her eyes.

"You know," says Tom, impulsively letting his thoughts come out even though there's a great chance he won't say the right thing twice tonight. He crosses the room and turns off the light on the nightstand, flopping down on the bed next to his wife. "I am really happy."

Lynette throws an arm over her head and scoots further down under the covers. "Yeah," she agrees sleepily. "You're the man. The sex was great. Et cetera, et cetera."

"No, Lynette." Tom waits until she opens her eyes to look at him before continuing. "I am really happy with our marriage. I love you and I love our kids. When I'm here I couldn't be happier. But…"

"But what?"

It's on the tip of his tongue to say that he's miserable when he's gone. That he misses her more than he can really explain. But as he stares down into her eyes—eyes so vivid that even in the dark bedroom he can tell hold an expression tinged with just the slightest hesitation—he realizes with a sudden clarity that none of this is really about him. It isn't about how he feels. It isn't about reassuring her that he loves her. It isn't about what he needs.

"But that doesn't mean that we're happy. That you're happy. Does it?" He brushes the backs of his fingers along her temple as if to push away a strand of hair that isn't there. He so desperately wants her to contradict him and say that she's perfectly content with the way things are. That even though she misses him as much as he misses her that when they're together everything is perfect. But he already knows that that's not the case. She told him before; he just wasn't listening.

"I just need to know," Lynette admits slowly, "that you still love me. Not just because I'm the mother of your kids. Not just because we're married. But because you still see me the way you did when we first met. I don't want to feel like I'm just an obligation that you come home to at night."

Tom leans down to rest his forehead against hers and he shuts his eyes, just breathing in the scent of her for a moment. "Do you remember that night I took you up to the roof of my apartment building and we danced?" He kisses her and then pulls back to stare down at her. "You looked so beautiful that night. And I still see you that way. I do. But I also see you as my wife. And the mother of my children. You are everything."

Lynette snakes her arms around his neck and pulls him back down so she can kiss him again. After a minute, he pulls back and she cups his cheek with her hand. "You always did have a way with words," she says with just a hint of humor in her voice. She runs her thumb over his lips and he kisses it. "Thank you. I needed to hear that."

Tom nods and kisses her one last time before she rolls onto her side and he takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around her and spoon her body from behind. He wants to hold her tonight, to let the steady rise and fall of her breath lull him to sleep. Even though Lynette didn't say so, he knows that words aren't enough. He needs to do more. He needs to show her that he means what he says because it's true. She's his whole world.

And he wants to make sure she never forgets it.