OK, I'll keep this brief - I know you just wanna find out what happened after the last chapter lol. I apologise again - what can I say, I love a slow, torturous burn...!
I am forever indebted to my wonderful beta Blazing Glory - without her this chapter would be nothing. She salvaged it late last night and I am so very very grateful!
And as always - thank you for your reviews - they made me laugh so much last time - Chapter 8 will be for all of you who've stuck by me so far and it shall be a glorious reward for you all!
WARNINGS: SLASH... hell yeah :-)
DISCLAIMER: I own diddly-squat. Blah.
A/N: Italics = flashback
Enjoy ;-)
Chapter 7
I stare at the ceiling. The rain hammers against the window. I turn my head and watch through the gap in the curtains, as raindrops trickle endlessly down the pane. Last night keeps going over and over again.
Randy's mouth warm against mine. The doorframe digging into my back.
"Shit, I'm sorry," he mumbles, turning away from me.
"Randy..." I murmur, vaguely reaching out towards his retreating figure and then letting my hand drop through the air when I realise it's too late.
"No, god, I have no idea why I just did that. Sorry." His voice cracks with confusion.
"Don't be sorry, it's fine," I lie, desperately wanting to grab him and kiss him until neither of us can see straight.
Randy runs a hand over his head, finishing by scratching the back of his neck. "It's not fine."
He glances at me, his eyes stormy and unreadable beneath thick lashes.
"Why?"
"Because..." he pauses and glances towards the master bedroom. "Rhian."
"I think she would laugh."
"Maybe."
"It was a kiss. If you don't want to make a big thing about it, fine."
Silence. Randy stares at me and for the first time since I've known him, I think I see a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. I get lost in a sea of thoughts. What does he doubt? How he feels about Rhian? About me and my place in his life? Should I really still be here? Should I have left when I knew my feelings where getting out of control?
"Codes?"
"Huh?" I re-focus. Randy is right in front of me. I catch a faint whiff of his scent: pure male tinged with the familiar smell of washing powder that Rhian insists on.
"What are you thinking about?"
I exhale hard.
"About what happened?" he prompts again.
"The kiss?"
I stare into his eyes, wondering what to say. The truth? That it was better than I ever imagined and that I want to kiss him again and again? Or do I end his misery and tell him it's cool, don't worry, I'll forget about it, I'll let him forget about it and most of all, I won't tell Rhian.
I take a deep breath. "Like I said, it's fine. If you want to forget it, I will too."
Randy glances at the floor, avoiding me again. I'm not sure whether he's relieved or angry or something else entirely. But he doesn't act grateful
"Okay. Well, night, I guess. Sorry." He snaps the words off in quick succession, almost as if they're bitter on his tongue.
I watch him wander further down the hall, open the door to his and Rhian's bedroom and disappear. I stand in front of my own door for a moment. Did I just make a huge mistake?
I've slept in fits. Waking up nearly every hour on the hour; the events of last night running through my mind like a fucking merry-go-round that refuses to stop. Did I make the right decision? What would have happened if I had told the truth? Or if I had kissed him back? I remember standing there, trying to take it all in – the feeling of his warm mouth on mine. But I don't remember returning the kiss, pressing my mouth against his.
Fuck. What if that was my only chance? My only chance to be in that position, Randy against me, his lips pressed firmly on mine. What if that was it? What if I was too fucking stupid, almost star-struck at having the tiniest part of my deepest fantasy come true to act on it, and now I've lost him forever?
I roll onto my side, grimacing at the pain in my stomach. The clock blinks 6:00. I watch it flick to 6:01 and then 6:02. I throw back the covers and swing my legs out. I sit on the edge of the bed for a moment, frowning into the dimness, trying to spot my sweatpants. I grunt as I ease to my feet and hobble across the floor the chair in the corner. I find a zip up hoodie and pull it on before tugging my pants up slowly.
I notice that Randy's door is still closed. And downstairs, everything is dark. I flip on the light and wonder whether to make coffee. Finally, I fill the kettle, flick the switch and listen to it boil. I reach for the cupboard where the mugs live, hissing at the pain in my shoulders. Everything feels so much worse in the morning.
I pour the water into the mug, forgetting to add coffee granules. I chuck the water down the sink and then add the granules, shaking my head at my inability to handle even the simplest of tasks, as I pour water for a second time, finally making a drinkable brew. I pick up the mug and head for the back door.
The rain hammers down on the patio cover, cascading off the front in a mini waterfall. All the garden furniture is out in the garden, rather than under the shelter, so I slowly sink to the ground and lean against the wooden slats of the house. I gulp my coffee, wishing the rain would just shut everything else out, but it doesn't happen.
I sigh and roll the half-empty coffee mug between my palms, gazing at the end of the garden, the green trees blurry through the rain. Something tells me I'm not alone. I glance to the side and see a pair of bare feet. I look up and meet Randy's gaze.
"Morning," I grunt.
"You're up early," he states.
"I couldn't sleep."
"Me neither." I watch him look around for a moment, hesitate and then shrug. He sinks to the ground next to me. Barely a foot away. So close, I could touch him without hardly moving at all. Is that what he wants? Does he want me too? After last night... No, don't read into this...
"Codes?"
"Yeah?"
"You... I mean, you're not bothered about last night?"
"What? No. It's cool."
"Are you?" I watch him closely.
He falters, trips over his words. "Yeah. I guess. I mean, yeah... But... I just keep thinking about it."
"Only natural I guess," I shrug, trying to act nonchalant, when every fibre of my being wants to yell out it's not okay, that it's definitely not cool in the slightest. You rescue me, you kiss me; you're playing with me and you don't even fucking know it!
Silence. God knows I've thought about it. All night that warm, sweet, gentle kiss played through my mind, making me ache for more, making me realise just how long I've wanted him to kiss me, touch me... want me.
I jump; Randy's hand is on mine.
"I keep thinking... what... well, what would have happened."
I swallow hard. Is this...? Fuck, why is it like this? Why am I suddenly nervous?
Wasn't I supposed to be the one confessing to him? It was supposed to be tentative, sure, but none of this shit after a simple kiss. That kiss should have lead to a that beautiful free fall of feelings and emotions through more kisses, touches and caresses. Not be words and what if's and would's and could's, accompanied with all this angst and confusion.
"Codes?"
"Hmm?" I say cautiously, not sure where he's headed with this.
"I keep thinking what would have happened if we hadn't stopped."
"What?" I stare at him incredulously. He stares back – all his cockiness and assurance gone, replaced with nervous, worried, almost timid eyes.
"Fuck... sorry, god what was I thinking? Shit. I mean, if you were even half-interested you would have kissed me back right? God, I'm such an idiot to even think that there was anything there."
"Anything there?"
"I..." he blushes. "I mean, I thought..." He looks down at the floor, raking his fingers down his thighs, digging into his sweatpants. "Did I imagine it?"
"Imagine what?"
"Us." Pause. "I thought you wanted..."
He scowls at the floor. "The other week. You were staring at me when you were with that guy. You kept watching me. I started thinking... wondering... Hell, I don't know what I was thinking. I'm obviously really wrong."
I can't think what to say in reply. So I sit there in silence, trying to force my brain into gear, trying to force my mouth open and get the words, any words, out in the open. I have him right here, right now. All I want to do is lean over and kiss him. But I'm frozen.
"Fuck, I feel like such a dick," Randy mutters. "Just forget it."
He gets up. I can't even stand. He slams through the kitchen door and I hear his bare foot steps across the kitchen, getting fainter and fainter.
The sound of the door catapults my brain from standstill to a million miles an hour. Did he almost confess that he has feelings? Or was that the confession itself? And now? Now the man that I've wanted, lusted after, practically worshipped for almost a year beating himself up because I couldn't say anything?
I drop my mug as I stumble to my feet. It smashes and I feel luke-warm coffee seep between my toes and shards graze my skin. Inside, the kitchen is empty. I hurtle upstairs following the sound of running water as I hit the landing.
I barge through Randy's room. The door to the en suite is ajar and I see Randy bent over the sink, splashing water on his face. I pad over quietly. He looks in the mirror and sees me in the doorway. He turns slowly. I take a deep breath and pray. Slowly, I step forward. Once, twice. A third time. Randy's chest is an inch from mine. My hands shake as I lift them and ghost my fingertips down the side of his face.
"This is what would've happened," I murmur.
I press my mouth against his. It feels so much better than last night. His lips mould perfectly with mine, his tongue warm and curious. I practically melt right there and then. I moan softly as he tentatively cups the back of my neck, his fingers working at a tension knot I never knew I had until now.
As we pull away, I catch his bottom lip with my teeth and tug slowly. My stomach flips as he groans.
I catch his gaze. His eyes shine with something I can't quite put my finger on. His hand still cups the back of my neck.
"Why didn't you do that last night?" he whispers.
"You surprised me. It..."
"What?"
"I didn't imagine it would be like this."
"Like what?"
"Accidental."
"How was it supposed to be?"
I shrug. Now it's happened, I can't quite think how it was supposed to be. All I can think of...
"I want to kiss you again." I cringe at my own words.
"Let me," Randy breathes, his warm breath brushing across my face, a split second before his lips do. Again and again. Across my cheek to my half-open mouth, painfully slow, making me melt against him. Never lingering, never quite leaving. His fingers curl into my hair, tugging gently, holding me to him. I grip at the collar of his t-shirt, twisting my fingers into the material.
But I want more. I need more. I want to feel his mouth everywhere. I want to grip his hips, cup his ass and hold him against me, grind against him until neither of us can bear to be apart. I want to peel his t-shirt off, finally run my hands over his hard chest and stomach.
Cautiously, I loosen my grip and start to trail my hands over his shoulders. Randy tenses for a brief second and then relaxes. I let my fingers trail across his covered chest, slowing slightly as I test the waters. Sensing his consent, I grip his waist and pull him closer, pressing my chest against his. He moans against my lips, the vibrations making my skin tingle. I take it as green. I frantically push my hands under his shirt. Terrified that he will realise what I'm really after, I want to make the most of every second
"Fuck," I mumble mid-kiss. My fingers trace the grooves in his abs, my cock growing harder; I swear he must feel it. I have never been turned on like this, just from kissing.
Randy loosens his grip on my hair and pulls away. My hands slip out from under his shirt. I stare at the floor, unable to look up. I was going too fast.
"Codes," he whispers. He reaches out and runs a finger down the side of my face, ending at my chin and lifting my head to look at him.
"Sorry."
He chuckles. "What for?" He moves towards me, his hands now on my hips, his fingers gently kneading.
I shrug. "Rushing?"
"Never," he murmurs, pressing his lips briefly against mine once again, pushing me against the doorframe.
