A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I own Firefly on DVD.

25

"So, this is me." I unlock the door and step aside, holding it open so that she can walk through first.

I won't pretend I didn't hope this might happen, so the place it pretty clean. But I'm still a guy, and a grad student at that; it's an apartment, not a home. In the front room, there's my parents' old couch and a TV. Lots and lots of books and video games and movies. A collectible or two.

I close the door behind us and watch her are she looks around. "This is the, um, living room. Kitchen's over there." I point toward the back, and my voice cracks. "My bedroom. Um, and the bathroom."

"Cool." Her voice is distracted, and I know she's sizing it all up.

Feeling ridiculously nervous, I find a reason to excuse myself. Gesturing toward the bathroom, I mumble, "I'll be just…"

I make my escape and leave her to her looking. Goodness knows I did the same thing at her house. Anyway, it's not as if I left out anything too incriminating for her to find.

Thank God these days all the porn is online.

I do what I need to and wash my hands, checking myself out in the mirror as I do. Nothing about my appearance has changed, and yet I look…different. Taller. I shrug and dry my hands and slip back outside.

And seeing her there – seeing her here … It seems too good to be true.

She has her back to me, her hand out, finger tracing the shelf where I keep my Blu-Rays and DVDs. When I clear my throat, she jumps and spins around.

"Hey."

"Hi. I was just…" She waves her hand at the shelf.

"Yeah, it's cool. Did you want to watch something?"

A movie could be good. She could sit on the couch next to me. With the lights out. And I could…

"Actually…" She turns back to the shelf and picks out my copy of Serenity. "I loved Firefly, but I never got around to seeing this."

Shit. I would actually want her to pay attention to that one.

I force a smile and reach for it. "Great choice."

Damn her and her good taste.

It's not all bad, though. Much to plan, I queue up the movie and turn off all the lights except a dim one in the kitchen. When I get back to her, she's already sitting in the middle of the couch. And I silently thank her. Saves me the trouble of working up the courage to sit close to her. Grabbing the remote, I settle in beside her and hold my arm out. She doesn't hesitate to curl into me, her head against my shoulder. And she's so warm. So beautiful.

The next two hours are the best torture I've ever endured. The movie is awesome, and I could watch it over and over again. But I've seen it enough times that I have enough attention left over to properly appreciate what I have in my arms. I keep my arm around her shoulders, occasionally sliding my fingers through her hair or rubbing her neck. At some point in the movie, she reaches for my other hand and intertwines them on my lap.

And it's…perfect.

Perfect except for the situation elsewhere in my lap.

When the movie ends, we both sit there, staring at the credits. My nerves are rising again, unsure about what she wants to do now. I don't want to break this easy intimacy. I don't want to let go of her.

But I want her closer. More.

Swallowing drily, I reach for the remote and hit the mute button, so we're left alone in the room. Just the soft glow of the TV and the glow of her proximity. I rub her arm, and it's a sign. It breaks the spell.

She pulls away from me and reaches her arms up overhead, yawning.

She's probably tired. Shit.

"Um," I start, but I don't know what to say.

"So."

"It's, um, late."

"Yeah." She turns toward me, shifting to place one knee up on the couch between us. One hand on my thigh.

I run my fingertips along the back of her palm and stroke her thumb with my own.

I don't want her to go.

"So, um," I try again. "Do you want me to take you home? Or… Um…"

"Hmm?" Her eyes are so wide as she gazes at me, her whole body leaning slightly forward. It feels like an invitation.

"Or, um, you could stay here?"

"Are you asking?"

That's not a no. "Yeah." I intertwine our fingers and take a deep breath. "Will you stay? Please?"

Her nod is small, but that's okay. "Yeah." Then, so gently, she leans forward and brushes her lips against mine.

I cup the back of her neck with my hand and pull her closer, sighing hard at the relief. She wants to be here. With me. Kissing me. I open my mouth to breathe her in, falling into a kiss so deep, so wet and soft.

And she said yes.

She said yes.

I suck her lip between mine one final time, then let her go. I stand and hold my hand out.

Together in the dark, we make our way back to my bedroom, and for a second I hesitate. I should probably offer her something to sleep in. Should probably go brush my teeth. Or turn some lights on.

But I do none of that. None of it.

Instead, I'm just with her, next to her, and her mouth is so hot, her body so soft and supple as I pull her up against me. My hands roam more freely now, learning the curve of waist and hip, the side of her breast. I touch her throat and suck her jaw, and she melts into me.

Her hands get freer, too.

When she first slides her hand down below the waistline of my pants, I groan, letting my fingers curl into her hip. She cups my backside and pulls me into her. Her stomach is soft against my erection, her breasts so full against my chest.

And I want… God, I want…

"Bella," I whisper between kisses. "You feel…"

"Yes."

And I'm not a gentleman. I'm not.

I'm just a boy in love. Desperate to touch. To feel…

I walk her backwards toward my bed. She's the one to sit on it. The one to pull me down with her.

And then everything starts to blur.

I don't know if I push or she pulls, but she ends up on her back, in my bed, so supple and warm, and I'm on top of her. All I can feel is her kiss, her hands on my back and in my hair, on my hip, pulling me into her. I'm so hard, aching to feel this with her, and I thrust, pushing myself against her. And she moans. She moans.

She sneaks a hand up under my shirt, hot palm to bare skin, electrifying contact. When she pushes the hem up, I don't even try to stop her. I help. I shift my legs and sit up and pull it off myself, just wanting closer. And then her hands are on me, caressing ribs and navel, and when she brushes the line of hair that leads toward my belt, I groan, long and low. I want her to touch me. I want…

Kissing my way down her throat, I shift lower against her body, afraid this will all be over far too soon. When my lips meet the upper swell of her breast, she clasps a hand to the back of my head. She's the one to pull the top of her dress down.

God, she's beautiful. So beautiful.

So…bare.

Creamy skin, milk-white and round and… I suck her nipple into my mouth and grind my hips into the mattress between her legs. I've never wanted so much to just…to just…

"God, Bella," I groan. I roll off of her and to the side, then pull her back into me. My hand finds its way beneath her dress, drifting dangerously high up her thigh. And it feels so good. I take one glance down, see the way her skirt is shifted up, revealing all that leg, and my hand, and…

"Here."

She sits up. Reaches down. At first I think it's to set her dress to rights. But it's not.

God, it's not.

She grasps the hem in both her hands and pulls up. Pulls it over her head.

And I can't breathe. I can't.

Black bra. Black panties.

Oh my God, and so much skin.

My groan this time is pained, the noises coming out of me too much, and I think I'll come if she so much as touches me. With a shaky hand, I reach for her. Touch the bare skin of her stomach. Drift higher.

"You're so beautiful."

She falls back into my arms, back into my kiss, and I want to get on top of her. To slide inside and…

"Jesus."

Her hand cups my erection.

"Bella, I'm…"

"Shh. I just want to make you feel good."

I feel so good. So good.

I nod and hold my breath, my forehead sweaty against hers, and then she's unbuckling. Unbuttoning. Pushing down.

The cool air hits my cock, and I think I whimper. It's been so long.

"Please touch me." It feels so base to ask her that. But I need—"Fuck."

Her hand wraps around me, hot, soft palm and fingers so different from my own. It feels so good, so right.

And I'm already on a precipice, my skin crackling with the overwhelming sensation of being touched this way.

"Bella."

Slow strokes, gentle sliding and her breath. Her mouth at my ear. Wet.

"Does it feel good?"

And it's over. I'm crying out, my whole body tensing as I wrap my arms around her and bury my face against her neck.

It's all heat and a wave, the world going black, and liquid, pumping, a splash against my stomach, and everything slick as she slides up and down.

For the longest time, I float.

Everything is warm and perfect.

Perfect.

Perfect.