Sorry for the long wait! Please forgive me T-T

Fang and I were downstairs watching some action movie, The Bourne Identity I think, that night. Like me, he found it both confusing and entertaining. For the most part I enjoyed watching him react minutely to the movie more than the actual movie. An action sequence was taking place when a devious thought plopped into my head. I reached my hand out from under the blanket I was curled up in and slipped it into his where it lay beside him on the couch. His response was immediate. His back stiffened and he turned his head to look at me curiously. Which is to say his eyebrow raised ever so slightly. I arched a defiant eyebrow back at him.

If you're thinking this was a casually romantic gesture than you are quite wrong. I was getting back at him for the "where's my kiss?" comment earlier. He seemed to grasp this too after a blink and a moment. A slow grin fought and finally won out a place on his face.

"If you think this is punishment then you need serious psychiatric help."

I gently tightened my grip with a squeeze. His smile tightened as well in effort and concentration, but he actually managed to relax. Then he stared at me equally as defiant and even retaliated with a light squeeze of his own. I took it to another level and slipped my fingers between his. He followed me up by pulling our entwined hands into his lap, before turning to the movie once more like it was nothing. Gotta admit, didn't see that one coming. I gazed at the T.V. through unseeing eyes, unable to pull my thoughts away from my hand nestled in his. My hand was comfortably warm, and the way our hands were positioned I could feel every time he took a breath. In and out, in-

Buzzzzz!

I jumped, fingers reflexively tightening around Fang's. I gave a short laugh. It was just my phone vibrating against the coffee table. It was Jeb.

Awkward.

"Hey Jeb," I answered trying not to sound like I was just thinking about how nice Fang felt.

"Hey, Max. Everything good?"

"Uh, yeah, why do you ask?" I sneaked a peek at fang who just happened to be looking at me at the moment. I looked away.

"You just sound strange that's all."

I cleared my throat. "Oh, well I just had a-," I wracked my brain, "tickle in my throat, but it's gone now." Tickle in my throat?

"Oh, okay. So what are and Fang up to?"

I glanced at our hands. "Just watching a movie."

"That's fun. I'm glad you got him to come downstairs."

"Me too," I agreed, glancing sideways at Fang again who was looking politely at the T.V. even though I knew he could hear every word Jeb was saying thanks to his mutant hearing.

"Well, I hate to ask, but would you mind making dinner tonight? I'm probably going to be here for another hour."

I looked at the clock on the wall. It was already 9:30. "Sure. No problem."

"Thanks, Max. See you soon. Tell Fang I said hi."

"Sure will."

I turned to Fang after we hung up. "Looks like we're making dinner."

"We are?" he asked, feigning surprise.

I grinned, "Yeah. Oh, and Jeb says hi." I led him into the kitchen, our hands still intertwined.

"So what are we making?" Fang asked, leaning against the counter.

"I'm thinking spaghetti."

"What's with you and spaghetti?"

"It's easy to make."

He snorted. "I forgot you were a deficient cook."

I put my hands on my hips. "I'll have you know that I cook plenty. Besides, who wants to be a fembot anyways?"

He put his hands up mock-defensively. "Well, I haven't really ever cooked anything, so I'm not one to talk."

"Well, it's your lucky day," I replied thrusting a tomato into his hand. "Just chop this while I get the water boiling. The knives are over there and the cutting board is right there." I pointed.

When I finished I turned around to find Fang just standing there, knife in hand. He had cut the tomato in half and was now staring blankly down at the cutting board.

"Fang?" I asked.

What was he doing? I walked over to see his white knuckled grip.

"Fang?" I asked, softly shaking his shoulder.

His body jolted at the touch and he turned to face me. He blinked, eyebrows converging as he looked from me to the knife that was now pointing at me. Had he been having a flashback about using a knife?

"Maybe I should cut the tomatoes," I grabbed the knife handle, not taking my eyes off of his. "You can heat up the tomato sauce."

He nodded, letting go instantly. I told him where to get a pan and what to set the stove on.

"I see what you did there," I joked as I dumped the diced tomatoes into the store bought sauce. "You were trying to make the woman do all the cooking. How very sexist of you."

My attempt at lightening the mood worked and Fang chuckled softly.

As we were putting the store bought garlic bread on a cookie sheet he asked, "So does Jeb work late a lot?" He didn't know since Jeb had worked at home until recently.

"Yeah . . ." I conceited with a sigh, placing the sheet in the oven, "he's a busy guy."

"Must have been lonely."

I looked up in surprise. It had been, coming home from school and being by myself for 4 to 5 hours almost every day.

"Yeah . . ." I said again, "but you're here now."

His face was very soft as he smiled his lop-sided smile, the knife incident seemingly forgotten, "Yeah, I'm here now."


As you know, Fang is not what you would call a touchy-feely kind of person. I mean, neither am I, but he made me look like one of those people who walk around with 'free hug' signs. So I decided that maybe that's exactly what he needed. He needed what I liked to call shock therapy. Whenever Jeb wasn't around I had taken to sneaking up behind Fang, hugging him, and running away. The first few times he did nothing, but he somehow figured out that I was ticklish, and well, you can guess how he started retaliating.

That's why when I came home to find Fang asleep in his bed, I decided to get payback. I tiptoed across the floor, fingers stretched out, ready to tickle him. Though, I doubted he was even ticklish. However, before I even skimmed the fabric of his shirt, he twisted to face me, grabbing my wrists and pulling me onto his bed. Faker!

"Ah!" I squealed.

Sensing what was coming I tried to squirm out of his iron grip. Finally he pinned me down. That's when he began tickling me mercilessly. The bastard. He knew exactly where I was ticklish too! He rendered my limbs useless as I was laughing so much I could only curl into a ball and try to block him. When I was on the verge of tears from laughing so much, he let up. He loomed above me, grinning triumphantly. Seeing my forfeit Fang began leaning back, lifting his hands from beside my head, where they held him up. My scheming brain conjured a mischievous and just overall bad idea. Before I could think better of it though, my body launched into it.

My legs came up wrapping around his waist. His eyes grew wide as his arms faltered and he was now leaning on his elbows. Our faces were now significantly closer. He was also as stiff as a board.

"Max . . . what are you doing?" he questioned.

"Shock therapy," I answered with a sly smile, "Is it working?"

"I'll let you know," he said, dark hair hanging around his face.

He was still too far away. Not taking my eyes off his, I linked my arms around his neck and pulled him down. His breath left him in a surprised 'oof".

"Relax," I told him.

I could practically feel the tension rolling off his shoulders. I rubbed slow circles into his back until I felt him relax into me. It was . . . strange. As I laid beneath him I realized I could feel all of him against me. Strange, but nice. His warmth pleasantly trapping me between him and the bed. Shifting, I tightened my legs around him. His breath hitched. This seemed to be too much for him and his face found sanctuary between my neck and shoulder. My skin tingled from his breath. A shiver went down my spine. I looked at the white ceiling as I listened to his quiet breathing. He must have already been on sensory overload, but for the life of me I couldn't stop think about kissing him. He shifted a little, lips brushing my neck and I closed my eyes against the feeling. I didn't mean to push him, but my fingers found their way into his raven hair.

After playing with his hair a bit, it seemed he could take no more. He lifted his head and I opened my eyes to find him looking down at me. It seems he was done with shock therapy. I thought he was going to untangle himself, but he didn't. No, instead he leaned in closer and closer until his lips touched mine. At first they were soft, then they grew more urgent with every passing second. Nothing could compare to be wrapped up in him while he kissed me. The blood seemed to buzz in my veins, and a fire started in the pit of my stomach, spreading like wildfire to the rest of me.

He was kissing along my jaw now and down my neck. My fingers curled into his shirt. I couldn't help the soft noise from rising in the back of my throat as he kissed along my collar bone. That was rather embarrassing. I stiffened, wondering if he was going to pull back. He didn't. This only seemed to spur him on. He moved on to my shoulder, moving the strap of my tank top so that he could kiss it fully. I shifted my legs again and was rewarded with a sound from him as well. My fingers gently pulled on his hair as I felt it rumble softly against my shoulder.

His mouth hungrily reclaimed mine and I gladly accepted it. Then somehow we rolled and now I was on top. Our legs tangled and his arms encircled me. I could feel the heat radiating from his body. Did he feel like he was on fire like I did?

The fire burned between us until our labored breathing became too much. I shifted so that I was lying beside him now. He rolled onto his side that we were facing each other. He slipped his arm around my waist as if not touching me would break our spell. His cheeks were brilliantly colored, but what got me more was his smile. It resonated deeply within his eyes. His onyx eyes shown with happiness and my heart contracted. I felt even more breathless if that was possible.

"Shocked?" I asked.

"Something like that," he grinned.