Hey guys! This is the second to last chapter of this story. Enjoy, and please let me know what you think. Trigger warning for mentions of rape.
Regina was amazed at how easily everything had fallen into place after they'd finally broken the ice and slept together. Their days were spent working their respective jobs and then spending their evenings or late nights together, depending on what shift Henry was on. Being with him got easier every time they were intimate, and she was starting to feel less guilty about it, about sleeping with the person she'd raised from a boy to a man.
But as the time passed and they both actively participated in building a romantic relationship, Regina realized that he truly was the only person who would understand her completely. He knew all the parts of her now, both from having heard it, and from having seen it himself. He had seen her as the Evil Queen, had seen the parts of her she hid from everyone else, even years later when she had friends and family and people who loved her. There were some things she would never like sharing. But he knew them. He knew everything.
It had been only a week and a half since they'd first slept together again, but it felt like more for Regina. She felt like she was learning about a completely different person, seeing the man that Henry had become, instead of seeing only the son she'd raised. He was a good man, a good person, and it was becoming easier for her to get over the way their relationship had started as she let herself recognize who he was.
She'd decided it was her turn to truly show him she was invested in this, in the relationship they were building. It was her turn to plan something special. With that thought in mind, Regina stopped by the police station on Friday evening when she left work. Emma was in her office, and Henry was sitting at the spare desk that had been empty for nearly the entirety of Storybrooke's existence. There was a nameplate there that read Deputy Sheriff Henry Mills, and she smirked as she ran her finger over the top of it.
"This is new," she murmured, finally catching Henry's attention, making him lift his eyes from the paperwork he'd been studying. He gave her a bright grin and nodded.
"It is. Mom just ordered it last week. She said she was waiting for me to prove I could handle the job so she didn't waste the money," he explained, rolling his chair back enough to stand up. Standing and moving around the desk, he squeezed her arm and kissed her cheek, then leaned against the front of his desk and focused his gaze on her. "I wasn't expecting to see you until later."
"Ask her how many times I've threatened to have hers revoked," Regina teased. Giving him a wink, she leaned one hip beside him and slid her hand into his. "I wanted to see if you could make it home by seven-thirty tonight?"
Henry nodded. "Yeah. I'll talk to mom, but it shouldn't be a problem."
"Good."
"What's up?" he pressed, stroking her fingers lightly. "Everything okay?"
Regina smiled faintly and nodded. "Of course. I wanted to make sure, for dinner."
"And what are we having?" Henry brought his free hand up to her hip, tugging her closer.
"Nothing special." She shrugged, pressing her hand to the center of his chest and taking a step back, eyes flitting to the glass walls of Emma's office. "You'll see when you get home."
"Okay, then." Kissing her cheek, he stood up straight. "I'll see you at home. Seven-thirty."
"Don't be late." Regina squeezed his hand, then pulled back and headed out, giving a small wave to Emma as she passed.
She'd meant it when she said she'd had nothing special planned for dinner. There wasn't enough in the house to make something overly special even if she had thought of it. Regina searched through the cupboards for a couple of minutes, before finally settling on making chicken fried rice. Henry liked it, at least he had the few times she'd made it for him before, even though she knew he prefered carry out fried rice, the extra grease the butter provided, and that little something… the authenticity of it from the places they'd tried outside of Storybrooke, making it more desireable than the healthier, homemade version. But he'd eat it, and likely enjoy it, certainly praise her for it even if it wasn't great. So she settled on that, busied herself preparing everything and cooking the chicken so it would be cooled enough to cut up before mixing into the rice.
Regina turned on the radio as she cooked, letting nonsensical lyrics carry her through her evening's work, until dinner was nearly done and it was time for her to shower and get dressed in clean clothes. She didn't want the lingering scent of chinese spices and butter heated on the stove on her skin and clothes. Not tonight. Tonight… well, she wanted it to be special. Henry had made every moment they spent together special, and this time, she wanted to take that responsibility.
After showering and dressing, blow-drying her hair and putting on make-up, she headed downstairs and set the table. Regina knew it was silly to do so much planning, to make such a big deal out of something that would be nothing to anyone else. But it wasn't nothing to her, and Henry would get that.
She heard the door right on time, smiling and grabbing a bottle of wine and two glasses to add to the table she already had laid out and ready. Henry met her in the dining room, coat off and deputy shirt unbuttoned to reveal a light gray t-shirt underneath.
"Hey." He smiled, taking the wine bottle from her hand and kissing her cheek. "Dinner looks great."
"Thanks. I warned you it was nothing special."
"It is," Henry countered, opening the wine and filling each glass halfway after she set them down. "It's nice when we get to eat at the same time. I know I get the crap shifts at work, so this isn't always manageable."
Regina nodded. "Well it is tonight, so let's just enjoy it."
"Sure. Are you sure everything's okay?"
"Perfect. Come on, before it gets cold." She sat, motioning for him to, as well. When he did, he picked up the serving spoon and offered it to her, ever the gentleman. Regina spooned some onto her plate, waiting for him to do the same, before taking a bite.
"How was your day?" Henry asked, scooping up a bite.
"It was fine." She smiled. "You know my paperwork from the station is much easier to read and far more thorough now that you're working there."
He grinned, shaking his head and giving a one-shouldered shrug. "I know how you like things done."
"I'm sure, but it's also your thing, you know, writing things up, making things understandable, clear. It's what you're good at." Regina sipped her wine, cradling the glass to her chest. "I think you're a great addition to the sheriff's department, I really do."
"But?" Henry pressed, taking another bite and watching her, waiting for her answer as he chewed.
"But is it really how you want to spend your time? Shouldn't you be doing what you love? You love writing, telling stories. That's what you should be doing with your time."
"It's not a big deal. I like working at the station, I like working with grandpa and mom. And I do write, when I'm not at work and when you are."
"And when you're not sleeping. Don't you think that's stretching yourself too thin? We have the means for you to stay home and do what you love, to work toward what you've always dreamed of."
"And I am doing that, when I'm not at work. Having love has always been one of my biggest dreams, and I have that, and I also have the opportunity to be a man and contribute to our life together," Henry answered, setting down his fork.
Pursing her lips, Regina let out a soft sigh and tilted her head. "How old-fashioned of you," she answered dryly.
"I don't mean-" Henry raised his hands in a show of surrender, leaning forward in his chair and resting his forearms against the edge of the table. "I don't mean because I'm a man and you're a woman."
She arched an eyebrow in challenge, barely stopping herself from rolling her eyes. "Then what do you mean?"
"I mean because you've provided for me my entire life. You raised me, you provided everything, and I know you'd never let me go without anything, but that isn't your responsibility anymore. I'm a man, not a boy. I'm your equal, not your child to provide for. I don't want… I don't want us to have that dynamic right now."
Regina frowned. She hadn't considered that. "I- well you know it isn't an issue. Everything that's mine is yours, it always has been."
Henry nodded. "I know. I do, and you're amazing, you always have been, and too giving-"
"Only for you," she cut in.
"No, that's not true, either. You're a caretaker, you always have been. It may have been only for me for a long time, but it hasn't always been that way, and we both know that. It's who you are, you help people, you save people, even if it means putting yourself in danger. You're giving, even when it means giving parts of yourself you're not ready for. But even though I've seen you differently longer than you've seen me in this new, uh, manner, I need to do this to get past that feeling of just being the kid who relies on his mom to take care of everything for him. Okay?"
She nodded slowly. "Okay, then."
He returned her nod, giving a faint smile to follow. "Okay. But I do appreciate that you want me to have time to write, I really do. And maybe someday, a bit down the line, I will focus on being a full time novelist or something. Just… you know, not right now."
Regina accepted his answer, though she still felt the nagging point of guilt burying itself in her stomach. He was young; he was supposed to be working on his dreams, not taking over the family business. It was his decision, though, and he was old enough to make it himself, so she let it go.
Later, Regina stared into the dark of the room as she listened to Henry's soft breathing behind her. Sighing, she closed her eyes and focused on the warmth of his breath against the back of her neck, and the way his arm hung loosely around her middle, the weight of it a perfect comfort. She felt like an idiot. She was an idiot, and he deserved better, but she was no longer in a place of being able to give him up. She could have chosen differently before, before she'd finally agreed to truly try this relationship with him, she could have chosen not to be with him, not to explore the possibility of a true romantic and loving relationship with him. But that was no longer the case. She'd spent weeks now allowing herself to love him and to let him love her. Weeks investing in this relationship and finding a happiness she hadn't believed she would have again. And now she was too invested. She couldn't give him up, couldn't let go of this relationship with him by her own choice. She would give him anything he wanted, absolutely anything he asked, because she loved him, was in love with him, but it would take him asking her to let him go in order for her to be able to.
And she didn't think he would do that. When she wasn't upset and irrational, she knew he wouldn't do that; he loved her just as much as she loved him. But she felt like she'd failed tonight. His soft reassurances and gentle, soothing hand up and down her back as he held her close and comforted her had proven that. He loved her, and he would never simply sit by and let her feel guilty when she thought she should, and it was just that level of selflessness in him that had made her love him this way.
She couldn't sleep, and she didn't want the moping and self hatred that were keeping her up to be the reason he woke, so Regina slipped carefully out of the bed and grabbed her robe. Heading downstairs, she pulled the thick, soft fabric on, tying the sash and folding her arms over her chest, hands rubbing the upper arms opposite. She decided she'd make tea, so after filling the kettle, Regina turned on the burner and pulled down a mug and tea. She leaned against the counter, waiting for the whistle of the kettle and thinking again about how the evening had gone.
She had planned it. She'd told herself she wanted to try, wanted to do it for him and she really did feel that way. So much of their relationship had been one sided, especially sexually, and she didn't want it to be that way anymore. It was the best way she knew how to show in that his pleasure meant as much (more, really) to her than her own pleasure. And she'd completely ruined it.
It hadn't started off badly, and she really hadn't minded doing it, enjoyed it, even. The moment she had wrapped her lips around his dick and met his eyes with her own, she felt his appreciation, could see it in his eyes, and that alone had made the act far more enjoyable than she ever could have imagined it would be. She'd sucked and sucked, pumping her hand on him as her lips and tongue worked the upper half of his cock. Regina had felt sexy. Hell, she'd felt… liberated, somehow, like doing it for him had washed away all the disgust she'd always felt towards the act since her farce of a marriage. She'd enjoyed nearly every moment of it, every little huff of breath he gave when he'd been holding it for too long as he watched her and took in the pleasure, every soft moan and groan that had slipped through his lips. The way he'd asked so gently where she wanted him to come, as though he was concerned she wouldn't want him to finish in her mouth.
Regina had been certain she wasn't very good at it, having avoided doing it for years and years, but his pleasure and utter enjoyment had proven that either quality didn't matter to him, because either way his dick was in her mouth, or that she wasn't as bad as she'd expected she would be. But she had enjoyed it. She had loved the way his hand played with the ends of her long hair, caressing and stroking, but not pushing her further down, as though he just wanted to touch her while she sucked him off. She had loved the complete adoration in his eyes…
The kettle whistled, snapping Regina out of her thoughts and bringing her attention to the task at hand. She shut off the burner, grabbing a potholder and picking the kettle up to pour her water.
Sighing again, she carried her tea to the living room and settled in on the end of the couch in the dark, leaving the light off in false hope that the darkness would tire her mind as the warmth of the tea soothed her body. It proved to serve the opposite of her purpose.
Regina settled between his legs on the bed, laying down on her stomach and propping herself up on her elbows. She'd already undressed him from the waist down, and he'd already pulled off the nightie she'd only been wearing for five minutes. After reassuring him again, for the third time in two minutes, that she wanted to do this, she looked up at him as she slowly kissed the inside of his thigh. He was beautiful, handsome in a way she'd never expected to find him, but she loved watching his green eyes darken with lust and his face relax with pleasure. She moved her lips up, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses all around him, without letting them touch where he very clearly needed her. Not just yet.
She wanted to draw it out, so she took her time with every aspect of it, building up the anticipation for several long moments, before she finally wrapped her lips around the head of his cock. His breath caught, one hand fisting in the sheets, the other coming up to her hair and playing absently with the thick locks as they watched each other. Regina brought her hand up, stroking the base of his cock as she swirled her tongue around the tip, taking in every sharp breath he took, every shaky exhale. She moved her free hand to his hip, stroking her thumb up and down the line of his hipbone, giving her something to match in pace as she lowered her mouth further down on him.
Regina hesitated only once the entire time, simply because she'd never once made the willing choice to go down on a man; she'd only ever done it out of obligation before, or avoidance, because sucking Leopold's dick had been the easiest way to keep him from abusing the rest of her body while he sloppily and drunkenly raped her. At least sucking his dick mostly had him lying still and kept his hands off her.
But she wouldn't focus on that while she was going down on Henry, so Regina pushed the thought away and focused on the task at hand. He was loving, and sweet, and grateful that she was doing it, she could tell by the way he watched her, by the combined eagerness and shyness of his grin as he grew closer to his release. All she had to do was look into his bright and loving eyes and she was drawn right back to him, right back to his cock between her lips and the way the skin at the top felt so smooth against her tongue. So, yes, going down on him was empowering for her.
She wouldn't tell him tonight that the experience, the act of giving him head was giving her a clarity she had not expected. Regina would save that conversation for the next day, because in that moment, she just wanted him to enjoy it. She worked harder at it, pumping his cock faster in her tight grip and sucking more firmly at the top. He moaned, hips rocking up despite how much he'd kept himself still during the entire blow job.
Henry whispered then that he was close, he was going to come, where did she want it? She'd just murmured her answer, watching him with lustful eyes, telling him her mouth was fine; she wanted to taste him, wanted to taste his pleasure as much as he always wanted to taste hers. She could feel wetness between her thighs, her body desperate to feel him, her head still amazed at how doing this could turn her on.
He grunted, tugging her hair just lightly in warning. Only a short moment passed between then and when he was coming, hot spurts of liquid filling her mouth. Regina squeezed her eyes shut, the taste bringing her back to less willing times, and she hurriedly moved off him, clambering off the bed and rushing to the bathroom.
She shut the door behind her, not taking enough time to lock it, because as soon as she'd turned toward the toilet, she was spitting up his come and vomiting all in one go.
Regina snapped out of her thoughts when she heard steps on the stairs. Sighing, she reached over and turned the end table lamp on. She didn't want to discuss it, and she hoped he didn't either, but she also wouldn't turn him away if he did. She felt so guilty, so terrible and upset with herself for ruining his experience for their first time trying that. No, she didn't have that much experience with them, but she doubted it was enjoyable to feel like you'd made your partner throw up.
Henry'd been sensitive to her, though, getting up and following her to the bathroom, kneeling beside her and pulling all her hair back, holding it gently at the base of her neck as his free hand had coasted up and down her back soothingly. He had assured her it was okay, most women don't like the taste anyway, he'd murmured, kissing her shoulder and waiting until he was certain she was done to pull her back to his chest.
She didn't tell him that it was because of memories, that it wasn't that the taste was that bad, but that it reminded her of the only other times she'd performed that act. How she hadn't thought about that, how she hadn't considered the possible consequences was a misstep of her own and she was beyond frustrated with herself for it. So she was sulking, and she didn't want him to come make her feel better, because she didn't deserve that.
But she turned when he came into the room and settled on the couch beside her. Henry immediately rested one hand on her leg, rubbing gently as he met her gaze. Regina pursed her lips, setting down her mug of tea and shifting to press herself against him, resting her head against his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Henry."
"You've said that too many times tonight." He kissed her head, resting his cheek there afterward. "You have nothing to be sorry about. Things happen."
Regina looked up at him, shaking her head.
"It wasn't you."
"It's okay," he answered, trying to make her see that he meant it.
"No, I mean it." She found his hand with her own, weaving their fingers together. "I just wasn't as ready for that part as I thought. I've never… done that by true choice, just because I had to…"
Henry nodded slowly as he realized what she meant. "Oh. Well it's not a big deal if you don't do it, you know. I love what we do."
"I liked doing it for you, up until the end. I just didn't realize I would react that way."
"Then we'll work through it. Or just use it as foreplay if you want," he suggested, knowing if he kept insisting not to do it, she'd take it the wrong way and he didn't want her to have hurt feelings.
Regina rested her head back against his shoulder. "Okay."
"It's okay. You were amazing. I just felt bad you got sick."
"I feel bad for it." She frowned.
"Don't. Really." Henry kissed her head again, rubbing her arm. "Come on, let's go to bed."
Regina nodded in exhaustion, taking his offered hand once he'd stood. She let him lead her up to bed, laying against him and trying to push the guilt away.