A/N: This chapter is longer and has a very, uhm, limey scene. Possible squick? No actual children, of course.
I held off on this chapter until I'd read Tom Perrotta's book (which is wonderful – I wholeheartedly recommend it). I had hoped to get some details on Ronnie's character, but I abandoned that plan halfway through the novel. Perrotta's Ronnie is so unlike the one in the film as to be almost a different character. Where JEH's Ronnie is vulnerable, Perrotta's is harsh. JEH's humor is wry, whereas Perrotta's Ronnie reads as bitter and sarcastic. Further, the book implicates Ronnie in the murder of a young girl (which doesn't make sense to me from a psychological point of view, but I ain't Tom Perrotta). That said, I stand by my Ronnie as the Ronnie devised by JEH and director Todd Field. I neither care, nor intend, to write Perrotta's Ronnie.
The line about the past and future is shamelessly cribbed from the film script.
******
Kitty flipped open the phone and called her voicemail.
"You have...one...new message."
"Hi."
His voice was soft, like he was whispering. She could barely hear him.
"It's Ronnie. I..."
There was an inordinately long pause.
"I'm sorry, Kitty. I cannot tell you how sorry...I...I mean, you knew about me. You know about what I did, who I am. So why me? I just...I'm so sorry...I'm not saying this right. Aw, hell, I'm coming over there."
He hung up, and the voicemail ended.
I'm coming over there.
With an odd mixture of excitement and trepidation, Kitty went to her window. She parted the blinds with two fingers and looked out. Ronnie was sitting with his back to the house on the stairs that led off their property onto the sidewalk. His bike was propped on its kickstand next to him.
Kitty twitched the blinds shut. "Crap!" she mouthed silently. She crept out into the hall, shutting her bedroom door behind her. Her father's snoring was clearly audible over the sounds of the television. Nevertheless, Kitty was quiet as she snuck down the stairs to the front door. She opened it noiselessly and slipped outside into the night.
Ronnie turned, hearing her bare feet pattering down the walk. His large eyes were full of worry. Kitty put her hand to her head and regarded him for a moment. At last she looked up and down the street, then reached out her hand. Ronnie stared at it hesitantly.
"Come on, bring your bike around back. Before somebody calls the cops on you."
He wheeled his bicycle through the grass, following her around the house. Kitty looked back once, and he had to drag his eyes away from her swaying backside to meet her gaze. He could not read the expression on her face. He leaned his bike against the railing around the steps down to the basement door. She grabbed his hand again to pull him inside.
She shut the door, and there was an awkward silence, then they both blurted, "I'm sorry," almost simultaneously.
Kitty chuckled nervously, but Ronnie just brought her hand to his face. He rubbed her knuckles thoughtfully against his cheek.
"Why me?" he asked at last.
"What do you mean?"
"You seduced me, Kitty. You did. But why did you bother seducing...me?"
Kitty sighed, bringing her other hand up to cup his acne-scarred face. "In the beginning, Ronnie, it was because you wanted me. I could see it in your eyes, that day in the back room."
He scoffed. "Plenty of guys look at you like that."
She shook her head. "No. No, they don't. Ronnie, I know I'm not pretty-"
"What?" he blustered, frowning. "You're crazy is what you are!" His eyes roamed over her. "You're so beautiful, I can hardly stand it."
Kitty looked sad. "Ronnie, you make me feel like...like I'm something precious."
"You are," he insisted earnestly.
"I would do just about anything to have you keep looking at me like that. With those gorgeous blue eyes of yours."
Her gaze broke him. "I'm so sorry about what I said to you."
"I'm sorry I lied to you," she whispered tearfully. "And for what I said. Can you forgive me?"
Ronnie shook his head dismissively, sliding his arms around her waist.
"No, Ronnie," Kitty insisted. "I can't lose you. You...nail me back in my skin."
She placed her small hands on his chest and pressed her lips gently on his. Ronnie buried himself in her kiss.
"Are we okay?" she gasped against his mouth.
"We can't change the past," he told her. "But the future can be a different story."
Kitty smiled then, and for Ronnie it was like watching a rainbow appear after a storm. He licked a tear that was sliding down her cheek, lapping up the salty moisture. She giggled. He kissed her full lips, and she moaned eagerly into his mouth. She slid her hands up to rest her arms on his shoulders. His hand cupped her buttock through the thin fabric of her boxers. She pulled him over to the couch.
"Stay a while?" Kitty murmured when their lips parted for a moment.
For an answer, Ronnie sat down on the sofa, arranging her across his lap, and slipped his tongue into her mouth. His fingertips stroked the soft flesh of her legs. Kitty curved her body willingly against his.
"This is what it's like to have a girlfriend," he muttered wonderingly.
"Hm?"
"Is your dad home?"
"Sleeping upstairs. Why do you care?" she teased.
He grinned crookedly.
Kitty twined her arms around his neck. "I'm so sorry, Ronnie."
He smacked her lips with a quick, playful kiss.
"I mean it, Ronnie," she said earnestly. "It's never felt like this before. Never."
Ronnie brushed the damp hair away from her face and gently tucked it behind her ear. His fingers traced her jawline. He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment, then he clasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger.
"None," he said firmly, locking her gaze with his own.
"What?"
"Zero. I've never..." he faltered slightly. "I've never touched. I'm not going to tell you I haven't looked and, well, shown." He flashed his eyebrows ruefully. "But I've never touched. I swear."
Kitty was silent.
"You don't believe me." He released her face and sat back.
A tiny smile curled her lips. She looked down coyly, then back up at him through her eyelashes. "So I was kinda...your first?"
He smiled shyly. "Yeah. I guess so."
"Was it, y'know...good?"
Ronnie pulled a face. "Remember earlier? When I told you you're insane?"
Kitty giggled.
"It was worth a three-year stretch, let me put it that way."
"Wish I'd known you. Before. I'd have waited for you." She grinned wickedly. "I'd've sent you letters, and pictures..."
"I'd have gone crazy inside, thinking about you." His eyes roamed over her body, and he blew air out between loose lips. "Plus they'd have given me more time. You were only fifteen back then."
"Sixteen!" Kitty corrected.
Ronnie rolled his eyes.
"You could've, you know, been the first one I..." she murmured shyly. "It would've been good. Nice."
"It wasn't?"
"I hated it," Kitty explained, shrugging. "It hurt."
"Well, the first time it does. I mean-"
"No, Ronnie. Every time."
His eyebrows knit. "Were they rough with you?"
"Uhm, not particularly. I dunno. I just...froze up. It's psychological, I guess. It's something wrong with me."
"There's nothing wrong with you," Ronnie assured her, stroking her back under her shirt. "You just weren't ready."
Kitty shivered, totally distracted by his touch. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back. He ran his fingertips lightly across her shoulderblades.
"Oh, god," she moaned.
"I love your skin," he murmured, smiling. "It's so soft. And you're so responsive."
"Mmm, maybe you're just good at what you do."
Ronnie snorted wryly.
"You're giving me skingasms."
"I'm giving you what?" he laughed.
She trembled, gasping, as his fingertips trailed over a certain spot. Ronnie stared in amazement. Arching her back, Kitty twitched with pleasure again and again.
"'Skingasms'," he marveled softly. He reached down with his left hand to adjust his growing erection to a more comfortable position.
Kitty noticed the movement. Grinning, she kissed his neck. "Take your shirt off," she demanded.
Ronnie frowned and shook his head.
"Please!"
She started to undo his buttons. He allowed her to strip the outer shirt off of him, but hesitated when her hands went to the hem of his tee.
"Why not?" she asked curiously.
"I'm not much to look at."
"I think I should be the judge of that."
"I don't know..."
Kitty pulled him down on top of her and kissed him passionately. When she pulled away, they were both breathing heavily.
Ronnie swore under his breath. "I can't say 'no' to you."
He twisted them until he was on the bottom, his head pillowed on the armrest. Kitty grinned as he pulled off his tee. Her hands went immediately to his bare flesh, exploring the dark hair on his chest. He lay back, enjoying the attention. She sighed happily.
"I see plenty to look at," she purred.
"Now lemme see those delicious little tits," he murmured huskily, reaching for her shirt.
"Ronnie!" Kitty admonished as she wrestled the tee off.
"I love your tits," he confessed wickedly, relishing her reaction to the dirty word. Nevertheless, her sweet, puffy nipples sprang to attention at his slightest touch, and he soon had her moaning with pleasure.
Ronnie scooted down on the couch, drawing her hips up. He plucked at her boxer shorts. Obediently, Kitty stood up on the cushion to remove them. He smiled up at her and stroked himself through his pants. The vantage point aroused him enormously.
"Sit on my face," he ordered.
Kitty stared at him as if he had sprouted an ear in the middle of his forehead.
Ronnie rolled his eyes. "Enough with the innocence act." He curled his finger at her in a 'come here' gesture.
She blushed furiously. "Ronnie, I'm not acting," she insisted. "I've never done that before. That's..."
"What?" he asked wryly. "Twisted? Kinky?"
Her lips wriggled, and she began to laugh. "Alright, alright. But lemme go pee first."
Ronnie cocked his head. "Can I watch?"
"You want to watch me pee," Kitty repeated incredulously.
He nodded innocently.
She stepped down off the couch and regarded him thoughtfully. "This is strictly a no-pants party," she said at last, eyeing his trousers pointedly.
Ronnie's eyes flicked toward the stairs. "What if your dad wakes up?"
She pointed a finger at him. "Adult." Then she pointed at herself. "Adult. Capisc'?"
Ronnie did not look convinced.
Kitty rolled her eyes, scoffing. "If he comes down to find me sitting on your face, I think your pantslessness will be the least of his concerns."
"So you'll do it?"
"What?"
Ronnie licked his lips suggestively.
She giggled. "Yes! Okay?"
"Then I'm all in favor of pantslessness." Ronnie stripped off his trousers and underwear, kicking off his shoes and socks.
Kitty padded into the basement bathroom. Ronnie followed her in and, shutting the door, switched the lights on. She blinked in the sudden brightness.
"It's no fun if I can't see," he explained, shrugging.
She took a seat on the toilet. He stood in front of her, and she took the opportunity to examine his lower half. He was slim and strong.
"Hi," she said, waving to his erection.
Ronnie grinned and knelt in front of her, parting her thighs a little wider. She eyed him nervously.
"I'm experiencing a little performance anxiety here."
He leaned over and switched on the sink faucet. "Better?"
She covered a giggle and, trying to relax, listened to the running water. At last her muscles released, and urine began to flow. Ronnie watched with great interest.
"You're a corrupting influence," Kitty told his widow's peak.
He smiled without looking up.
When her bladder was empty, she tore off some paper and blotted herself. She flushed the toilet and leaned over the sink to wash her hands. She turned around to find Ronnie lying face-up on the floor, his knees cocked up.
"You're serious, aren't you?"
He nodded, eyes wide.
Kitty stepped carefully over him and crouched above his shoulders. Just before he guided her hips into position, Ronnie looked up at her.
"You'd do anything I wanted, wouldn't you?" he asked wonderingly.
She nodded shyly. "Just about."
He drew her pelvis toward his mouth. Off-balance, unsure, Kitty gasped her pleasure as his tongue laved her sensitive flesh. The intensity of her climax just moments later was almost painful.
*****
A/N: Trying to get inside Ronnie's head, I decided that he would be fixated on the nubile female body. In interactions with a partner, he would be more focused on her body than his own, except insofar as teaching her about his body. Hence the, erm, hoohah-worship.