A/N: All good things come to those who wait...you're welcome:)
...and I just realized I forgot to hit spell check, sorry guys.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Will's POV
Will woke up with a giddy, stupid grin on his face. The same giddy, stupid grin he had fallen asleep wearing and he was pretty sure that if someone were to have snuck in and taken a picture during the night the developed film would show that it had never left.
Yesterday had been a horrendous emotional rollercoaster and he was still suffering the residual effects of the pure fear that had slammed into him when he thought Emma had overdosed. During the night he had woken up countless times just to hug her warm body against his, to listen to her steady breathing.
Every rollercoaster both real and metaphorical had a stopping point and from where he stood the point that theirs had stopped at around one in the morning was perfect. Fuckin' perfect. Pink deserved a very sincere note of thanks but he couldn't figure out how to word, "Thank you for writing Fuckin' Perfect because it got my girlfriend to open up and say she was ready to have sex," in a way that didn't sound crude and immature on his part.
Emma was still sprawled out across him one arm hooked around his stomach while a leg rested between his and it didn't take him long to realize that he really needed to move because that leg was bent at the knee and that knee was far too close to an area he would rather it not be anywhere near.
Slowly Will unwrapped Emma's arm from his upper half and promptly laid stock still while he tried to figure out what to do about the rest of the woman still draped across his chest. Placing one hand on her hip he began to gently nudge her towards the back of the couch as he simultaneously started to slide out from underneath her missing the warmth of her body heat instantly. Emma moaned the sound thick with sleep and maybe if he worked really hard he could try to ignore the tinge of arousal. His breathing accelerated when she whimpered softly as did his effort to get out of the situation. When her pelvis rocked ever so slightly against his right hip his breathing stopped. When her knee inched up his body landing right in the worst possible location something else started. Oh god, I need to move. I don't want to move. Well I do, just not away from her. What's she dreaming about? Is she dreaming about me? I hope it's me. I dream about her.
His head fell harshly against the armrest a gasp escaping his lips when he felt her grind into him again as her knee pressed downwards and he couldn't stop the involuntary movement of his hips. Stop it, she's sleeping. Get out of this. Now.
By the time he successfully maneuvered off the couch and into the kitchen he couldn't think straight. Everything about her, everything tiny detail he had found irresistible before was magnified by ten and everything that had already been magnified by ten was now magnified exponentially. This was going to be a long day he could tell.
Letting his fingers trace the cupboard above him for a moment he worked to steady his breathing and figure out what to fix for breakfast. Will shuffled his way around the kitchen opening cupboard after cupboard only to find a severe shortage of breakfast food. He was down to one last cupboard.
A canister of oatmeal stared back at him.
Will sighed.
Last night, I had a dream and I found myself in a desert called Cyberland. It was hot, my canteen had sprung a leak and stop it!
He mentally winced at his inability to stop an instant run-through of a song if he heard even a simple phrase that sometimes didn't even have to be the exact wording. There really weren't many things that topped the immediate awkwardness from those around him when a sigh caused him to mindlessly start reciting Maureen's protest from Rent. It would help if the words weren't so absolutely insane right off the bat. One time he had slipped up and gotten all the way to the part about drinking diet coke before he had realized what he was doing. Months of Sue proclaiming her disappointment over not finding his obituary in the paper saying he had died of a brain tumor from all the aspartame as he walked through the lunch room had made him extra careful to reign in his tendency to randomly break into song. Really it was only random to other people. It was always in context to him.
The can of oatmeal reminded him that they needed to go shopping and there was no song to accompany dried oats unless he wanted to reduce himself to the level of elementary school choir class. In college he had thought about that diddy a lot as he had pondered how he could remember something from over fifteen years ago better than he could recall the math lesson he had sat through two days prior. He was still the master of procrastination as his Spanish students would attest to in a heartbeat. Knowing songs in Spanish was a severe handicap when he finally got himself to sit down and start grading tests and quizzes. Emma had even picked up some of them which inevitably led to another reason to not grade as he worked with her on correct pronunciation. I'm doing it again. I'm hopeless. How do I ever get anything done?
So far he hadn't even attempted to take Emma to a grocery store figuring it would be too much for her to handle but Will was going to do everything in his power to change that today. She was doing better, dealing with things he never thought she would tackle, at least not so soon. On the other hand balancing out those steps quite negatively was her recent occasionally thwarted and sometimes successful attempts to eat oatmeal instead of food. Will officially did not consider oatmeal a food anymore and he doubted it would ever regain its status as such.
Leaning against the doorway into the living room he smiled at the sight of Emma curled around a large, plush pillow like she was using it as a substitute for his body. Will padded softly across the room kneeling in front of the couch brushing her hair away from her face as he began to place small kisses along her cheek.
"Hey there beautiful, time to get up."
Emma moaned this time in protest and rolled over. Will smirked as he slid a hand up under her sweatshirt concentrating on keeping himself under control when he unintentionally went under her t-shirt as well coming into contact with warm skin. Dropping a kiss on the back of her head he began to tickle her. His goal was achieved in the most adorable way when Emma jumped up yanking his hand out from under her clothes as she glowered at him. He had to give her props for trying even if it was a losing battle with the smile that was creeping across her face.
"How'd you sleep?" Will lowered his voice to a whisper," Have any good dreams?"
She looked down her cheeks growing red at his question.
"I slept great, and I'm feeling better so that's good." Her eyes were tracing the floral pattern on the couch.
"I didn't ask how you were feeling. I asked if you had any good dreams."He repeated chuckling at the embarrassment he was causing.
She shyly looked up at him, "What did I do?"
"Oh" He drew out the exclamation," you may or may not have moaned a couple times and you may or may not have possibly pressed against me when you did."
Emma's head crashed into his chest, "The may not part is sarcasm isn't it? Gosh this is horrible."
"Nah, I thought it was cute." Hot, frustrating, endearing, sexy as hell, problematic.
Deciding to spare her further humiliation Will casually mentioned that they needed to go get some food. As soon as the words left his mouth she tensed pulling away spewing excuses as to why he should go without her. When she suggested that there was always oatmeal he told her to go get dressed.
Emma had grimaced and squeezed her eyes closed as soon as they walked through the automatic doors. Will ignored her seeing if she would work her way through whatever was going on inside her on her own. Grabbing a cart he rolled his eyes as he squeaked his way down the first aisle came to. Defective carts had an affinity for him and he had seriously thought about bringing DW-40 every time he went shopping. Everyone got a noisy cart at some point in their life but that never stopped them from shooting annoyed glances. A hand latched onto his arm and he looked over at Emma. Her face was growing red as her breathing became heavier while her eyes darted in every direction possible never focusing on anything. Stealing a glance to either side of them he took a hold of the hand that was now threatening to crush his arm.
"Emma, hey you're okay."
"It's so bright in here and it's everywhere no matter where I look, food and calories and fat. I don't want to be here Will. I don't want to be close to any of it. What if it makes me fat?" She was struggling to talk between what were rapidly becoming large gulps for air.
Will hung his head. He hated fighting his way through eating disorder-rooted logic. For someone as factual as Emma some of the things that she said regarding food were alarmingly nonsensical and almost impossible to find middle ground with. She was afraid that being near the food was going to make her fat like some sort of osmosis effect. Her breaths were slurring together and she muttered a soft, "No, not now, not here, please." Shit, I agree. Not here and not now.
Switching tactics he pressed his palm against her cheek pulling her against his chest.
"Match my breathing, you're fine."
"Sir, is she alright?"A compassionate voice left Will cursing his luck.
Not bothering to look at the person he replied that Emma was okay fabricating an impromptu lie about receiving bad news regarding a family member. A gentle, heart-felt condolence was uttered followed by the sound of the clacking of high-heeled shoes on a hard floor.
Whoever the person was seemed to have gotten through to Emma probably via guilt on her part. She was calming down, the tension disappearing from her body as she allowed him to support her weight.
Will started them down the aisle again with her hand held safely in his. A young teenage couple fixed them with a questioning look laughing and poking fun by holding hands while pretending to confess their undying love. Will brushed past them not even bothering to expend the energy to produce a glare. They weren't worth the effort.
The cart was beginning to fill up. Emma never made any move to glance at anything longer than a second like she was afraid that if she did he might ask if she wanted it. Whispering that he would be right back Will released her hand and strode away with absolutely no idea as to what he was going to pick up.
Ever since the first item had been tossed into the cart Emma had been slyly trying to read the nutrition labels when he moved away to get something else. She would wait until his back was turned before picking it up, throwing it back down as soon as he started to head back. He wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't thought it odd that the bread mysteriously shifted to the left side of the sugar instead of the right where he had actually taken the time to place it earlier. A smashed loaf of bread was the one and only thing he went out of his way to prevent.
Will had purposefully put something he knew Emma wouldn't be able to resist checking into the cart before he walked away. Watching her with the aid of peripheral vision he pretended to compare prices on two different kinds of vegetable oil which even he had to admit was pretty lame but it was the first thing his eyes had landed on. She inched her way forward glancing around nervously as she lowered her hand to pick up a small bag of peanut butter chocolate chips. He didn't have any need for them but they were serving their purpose and he could always say he ate them as a snack which wasn't entirely untrue. Her mouth parted and she flung them back stepping away until she connected with the shelves behind her putting as much distance between herself and the Hershey's brand threat. He hated to see this, to see her so controlled by a number.
He carelessly placed the plastic bottles back on the shelf running through ways to confront the issue as he sidled up behind her an action that was probably counterproductive to not drawing attention to the upcoming conversation.
"Don't do that. Don't count and give me your phone please." His words hung in the air between them.
Emma attempted to play dumb asking what he was referring to until he revealed that the chocolate chips were planted on purpose repeating the request for her phone. She had been holding her it the entire time and although he had been puzzled he hadn't questioned. There were a multitude of reasons it could have been innocent but what he had just witnessed confirmed that it wasn't.
She apologized for checking calorie counts but made no move to hand over her cell.
"Emma, phone."
A defeated sigh accompanied the slight weight of a cell phone in his palm. He checked the latest text message first only to find one he had sent the other day as they had sat only a few inches apart while watching a movie saying that he loved her temporarily forgetting what he was looking for when he noticed the little icon that showed it was locked. Pushing buttons until he found the notepad he clicked into the most recent one thankful that unlike his phone hers showed the time of entry. Numbers and abbreviations filled the screen. He knew what they were but he checked to make her think he didn't. Picking up the chocolate chips he compared the label with "1 srvg 290, 12 chps." They matched. Will hit delete and flat out refused to return the phone until they were on their way home hoping the information hadn't crossed over from her working memory into to her long-term memory or short-term for that matter. Emma didn't make any attempt to protest but he felt like he was taking away a toy from a kid who was misbehaving.
Is this how it's going to be? Progress until she's too overwhelmed by a situation to not go behind my back? Maybe it makes sense. I revert to things I haven't done in a long time when I get too stressed. Damnit this is doing nothing to lessen my worries about sectionals this upcoming weekend when she will be left to her own devices for a night and two days. I'm supposed to trust her and I'm not. Great.
Will reluctantly left her in the frozen food section only giving in because she had sounded so unsure about asking. If he took the cart she couldn't count calories and he wasn't planning on buying anything from that aisle anyways.
When he returned he found Emma standing right where he had left her, her eyes boring a hole into a pane of glass and he knew she wasn't checking her reflection. Both of her hands were clasped over her stomach, her bottom lip looked to be permanently caught in her teeth and she was shifting her weight from foot to foot nervously. From her body language alone he could tell she wanted to go after whatever it was she was trying to convince herself to take, afraid to move her hands probably because she didn't want to touch the item, didn't want to admit that she was considering it concentrating and preparing to run all at once. All of this Will was able to gather from his position at the end of the aisle. The woman roughly twenty feet away was the perfect example of how conflicting thoughts manifested themselves physically in conflicting body language.
Will was adept at the art of interpreting non-verbal communication, able to pick up on the smallest of cues, with dogs. As a child through his twenties he had devoured animal behavior books in secret. He would read through a section and go outside with a notebook and pen observing Allegro taking notes on behaviors he recognized and those he didn't. If his parents asked him what he was doing he told them he was writing song lyrics and he still didn't know why he lied.
It was still something he did automatically every time he saw a dog especially when it was interacting with its owner or other dogs. It was frustrating to watch how oblivious people were to what their dogs were trying to convey. A stressed or nervous dog would tongue-flick which only led their owners to stare curiously and ask them why they were acting like a snake. They will also pant profusely only leading owners to wonder why in the world their dog would be hot in the air conditioning. The only thing people noticed about a scared dog was what every generic dog book portrayed, a tucked tail and lowered head. They didn't know that a dog producing a "whale-eye" trotting in a circular fashion around whatever it was afraid of keeping its head forward while it watched the perceived threat with one eye meant the same thing. Falling into the same category was the tail-wag something everyone assumed always translated into a happy dog. They didn't know there were differences, important ones, variations that could mean the difference between happy and ready to attack. It was true, a wagging tail did mean an excited, happy dog but only if it was straight out from their back or hanging down usually moving in circular oddly enough counter-clockwise motion. There were other cues as well, there eyes would be squinted and their cheeks would be pulled back as far as they could be. The most common mistake was someone's inability to notice or worse failure to take the time to learn about something they thought they understood. Will was guilty of this too when he never made an effort to learn about the numerous causes that masqueraded behind an eating disorder. Just like the movement of a dogs' tail to the general public meant happy Anorexia to him had meant a messed up desire to be thin.
Will wanted people to realize that just like in violent outbursts from coworkers or shooting sprees the violent outburst of a dog wasn't random either. In either case there were always signs. Dogs that barked furiously from behind a window, fence or even right at someone's feet were usually never the ones to be concerned about just like a person who was yelling at the top of their lungs. People become overwhelmed by the noise, go into defense mode and expect the worst. The dog that fixates a person with a cold stare, stiff front legs, standing immobile, their tail straight up moving slightly at the tip with their cheeks pulled forward but not producing a growl was the one to be weary of. There next move was premeditated just like that of a serial killer. This was applicable to the extreme with humans even though people always flippantly tossed around the phrase, "It's always the quiet ones." Everyone gives a warning, every animal and every person.
The media made him sick when they droned on about the "unwarranted" attack of a family pet on a child or other family member especially when they targeted Pit Bulls. People knew that term, if you called them by their real name, American Staffordshire Terrier, those same people were clueless. The problem begins when everyone starts to generalize shoving the movement of a tail into the same categories they often do a smile; happy, relaxed, friendly. No one gives any thought to the dogs' body language when they watch clips or hear stories of a child who was petting a dog only to end up mauled or bitten. In reality the dog was trying to remove itself from an aversive situation for quite some time. Dogs disliked confrontation and would go out of their way to avoid it and the only time people start to pay the slightest bit of attention is after they growl which they mistake for a "first alert" instead of the half-way point that it really is. They will have been trying to pull away, avoiding eye contact, licking their lips, starting to pant. Their body will stiffen after a while and their ears will flatten against their skull When they whip their head around to stare at whatever they have been growing annoyed with which thanks to the media is usually a child it's too late. The instant that person moves they will be bit it's only a matter of how severe.
The basics between dog and human body language were the same it was the details that tripped him up although he was learning to recognize them concentrating the most on the small things Emma did.
For the most part the general consensus on eating disorders fell into one category and very few ever tried to re-file them. He certainly had been a member of the masses that didn't bother. In regards to eating disorders people obliterated the grey because black and white was far easier to deal with and as such less threatening. If someone didn't eat and they were too skinny they were automatically Anorexic. If that same person were to be seen eating an apple one day even if the way they went about it was abnormal people removed the title and continued on about their lives. No one ever thinks about the possibility that apple might be the only thing they ate all day or something that it was deemed safe amongst a startling number of unsafe.
He had absorbed enough eating disorder material that he had become just as sympathetic to the sufferers who became victims to such viewpoints. Those with eating disorders were considered perfectionists. Emma was a perfectionist and even though she identified as one she accepted that some things could not be kept flawless like the wind messing her hair after five minutes of being outdoors. If a perfectionist were to truly fit that word they would never get anything done. Being a perfectionist only applied to some things, never everything. Emma was the byproduct of Obsessive-compulsive Disorder, Mysophobia and now Anorexia Nervosa. She liked things to be a certain way not born of a drive to have things perfect but a derivative of the fact that it put her at ease, gave her some semblance of the control she never felt she had. In the break room Will once overhead a substitute commenting that "that red-haired chick" must be a real perfectionist because they had seen her straightening pamphlets. Will didn't mind naïve people it would be hypocritical considering all the things he was naive about what bothered him where the people who transcended the fine line dividing naïve from ignorant when they assumed they knew everything about someone or something after watching for five seconds.
In the world of eating disorders this ignorance ran amok and it probably always would. Searching online he had encountered websites that glorified Anorexia as a lifestyle. Some of the members had honest eating disorders while others were only trying to gain one. Some day he was going to look into that rift between those who maintained they wanted the disease and those who were like Emma. He had never asked Emma her feelings about how eating disorders were portrayed but after she had shut the TV off in disgust when a documentary entitled "Starving for Perfection" came on he had a decent idea. There were theories, a couple of which that went over his head and sometime he was going to approach her about the physiological explanation he had only comprehended through the first paragraph even if it was watered-down. He had gleaned that it was centered on deficiencies in the brain and that was what stopped him from asking. To him, thinking you were crazy then being asked to put in your two cents on how it is probably the result of your brain not working properly didn't sound like something that would go over well.
Will had been swimming in his world of analogies for about fifteen minute before the fact that Emma hadn't budged finally registered. There was one small difference. Every once in a while her upper half would lean forward and her arm, at least the one that was visible to him, would tense and just as quickly relax. It was a bit out of the norm for him to notice something like this in a person and he wrote it off as a byproduct of the "small parts that make up the whole" inner monologue he had been swept into. Emma was not winning whatever altercation she was currently engaged in but she was standing her ground, literally.
He abandoned the cart as he walked up to her stopping a few feet away. He tracked Emma's gaze retracing it only to end up at the same place, staring at ice cream. She wants ice cream. She's going through all of this because she wants ice cream. I need to come off as normal.
"Do you want some?"
It was hard to keep his voice conversational when he hadn't gotten over the shock factor just yet. I deserve some sort of award for that.
"What? Oh…um, no," she laughed nervously, "I didn't even realize I was standing here, lost in thought I guess."
No you weren't.
Her giggle had been forced and everything after had been half-hearted, the way someone talks when they are more than aware they have just been caught but stubbornly give it one last shot just in case. The only part that had been genuine was the exclamation at the beginning. She wasn't going to admit she wanted any even if she managed to convince herself she wouldn't tell him. The worry about money wasn't a component anymore but the guilt was still there. Will didn't want to lose this chance.
"It's perfectly fine to want some Emma. I promise I won't judge you. I might ask you to share and pout if you don't but I won't judge you."
"You wouldn't think about how fattening it is or how hypocritical it is that I want something with dairy?" She was a timid and hopeful a mirror held up to his own feelings.
"Won't even cross my mind because a fraction of my thoughts will be used up on how delicious it tastes and the rest will be monopolized by the gorgeous red-head I will be sharing it with."
A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth but was instantly chased off by a look of concentration which to Will's dismay was run off by one of uncertainty.
"There's so many, too many. Why is there so many of everything? I mean who really needs an entire wall of toothbrushes to choose from…" She wasn't going to shut up if he didn't intervene.
"What's your favorite flavor?"
I, I can't make that decision…"
Will's mind picked up where her words ended. That would to be too close to giving yourself a privilege you still don't think you deserve, too close to picking out something you consider unsafe on your own and you don't want that guilt.
"What's yours?" Everything hinged on his answer.
He thought about saying vanilla simply because it might be easier for her to accept but that would only end up with him being subjected to a years of bland ice cream while he snuck out to get what he really liked. It sounded like a lifetime movie plot minus people plus dairy product.
"Vanilla chocolate chip cookie dough, "Will admitted sheepishly. Here it comes.
"You know if I ever go shopping without you and I don't know what you like all I will have to do is hunt down the nearest five-year old." Her smile was genuine as she teased him.
"Sounds fine by me, just ask me about clothes. I don't want any Spiderman underwear, not after the last pair. They were so uncomfortable."
Emma's just stared.
"I'm kidding."
She started to laugh mumbling something about an interesting mental image which only left Will with one course of action.
"Were you just picturing me in Spiderman underwear because I will overlook the Spiderman part if you were, of course if I left that part out then I suppose I wouldn't be wearing any underwear at all," he couldn't resist," Did that crop up in your dream at any point by the way since I'm so bluntly discussing my being nude while standing in the middle of a grocery store."
Emma abruptly looked away.
"I don't want anything big, how about a small container?" she still wouldn't face him.
"Ha! It did," what else was I doing? " he whispered playfully into her ear unable to keep the huskiness out of his voice.
"Stuff, okay now what should we get?" Her eyes were still glued to the ice cream.
Nice try, not going to work though.
"What else? Tell me one thing and we can get the ice cream," he lowered his voice, "and when we get home maybe I will remove the part about it being a dream. Sound fair?"
Emma whined softly under her breath whether it was due to what she had just gotten herself into or a response to his comment he wasn't sure but his body as much as he tried to stop it damn well hoped it was the latter.
"It might have something to do with why I'm trying to convince myself to get some of…this." She mumbled shyly.
What? She did not just say that, not about ice cream, not about a dairy product, not about food. Yes she did. I heard it, yes she definitely said that.
Will grabbed the nearest box of vanilla ice cream for reasons he was desperately trying not to think of and pulled Emma along as he power-walked back to the cart. Every cash register had a line and everyone seemed to be stocking up as if it was Thanksgiving and he was failing miserably at not replaying Emma's words. He ripped a magazine from the rack next to him flipping it open trying to concentrate on the first article he found, something about a new show about a Glee club on Fox. Like that has a prayer. After that he didn't comprehend anything.
Emma was laughing at him.
"It's not funny and it's your fault so hush." He hissed.
The drive home took forever. He forgot to give Emma her phone and the key seemed to be incapable of fitting in the lock and his lips could not find hers fast enough after he kicked the door closed. Everything but the bag containing the cold items including the ice cream, he had made sure, had been left in the backseat.
The sexual tension dissipated considerably as he sat across from her gently coaxing her to take the first bite, saying she would be fine, reassuring her that it would not make her fat when she asked over and over, kissing her softly when she take her first bite, kissing her passionately when she finished the small bowl. Will didn't eat any. He was hoping he would get some later, maybe sooner rather than later.
This wasn't going to be easy and he had already prepared himself for the very strong chance she would back out. He was expecting that actually. Everything about what Emma had shyly hinted at was as far from the Emma he knew as anything could possibly get.
They were sitting in the living room on a couple towels Emma had insisted they spread across the floor which he had happily agreed to. Will leaned in capturing her lips in a tender kiss deepening it in a last ditch effort to forget the bowl of rapidly melting ice cream that was sitting next to him. It wasn't working.
"Emma, you take the lead, tell me what to do. If at any point you feel uncomfortable tell me. We'll stop. I know how uneasy this will make you although I would be lying through my teeth if I said I'm not hoping to help you get over that."
She took a deep breath staring at the bowl and looked anywhere but at him, "…um…maybe take a bite? Kiss me?"
Will obeyed picking up the spoon that was resting on the edge of the bowl and scooping a very small amount of what was almost liquid into it. Carefully he brought it towards his face telling her again to just say stop before he placed the utensil in his mouth not swallowing as he moved to place his mouth against hers. He had been prepared to keep his lips closed for awhile while she worked up the nerve to open her mouth. He definitely did not foresee her doing so right away. Very slowly she moved her mouth against his and Will moaned softly when her tongue darted out as he accepted her invitation and returned the gesture forcing what remained of the warm liquid past his lips. This is a dream, a very unrealistically realistic dream because this can't be happening but oh god it is.
He repeated the process a couple more times as their kisses grew more daring and he licked away the ice cream he was leaving on her lips. Emma moved so she was lying on her back and he licked his own lips waiting to see what she would tell him next.
When his mouth, full of as much as ice cream as it could hold pressed against that one wonderful spot beneath her ear he got lost in the taste of her skin as it mixed with vanilla and when she moaned he began to regret his decision to wear jeans this morning.
When she started to remove her shirt he outright hated himself for it.
He knew what she wanted him to do and he chose the spoon very cautiously dripping a small line across her chest keeping his eyes locked on hers for the first sign of discomfort. The mere thought of licking the sweet substance off of her caused his head to spin. When his mouth actually came into contact with her skin, as his tongue traced the path he created he had to stop to take a breath. She began to remove her bra and Will cut off a curse because there was no way this was happening.
Erring on the side of staying safe he drizzled ice cream all over her breasts until he was absolutely certain she was okay with it before he allowed some to drip onto her nipple. Closing his mouth around it he swirled his tongue softly sucking to heighten the pleasure he could tell by the sounds she was making that she was experiencing. He kept his mouth where it was reaching a hand back to grope for the spoon when Emma whispered for him to stop apologizing for having to do it. Finishing what he had started he kissed his way back up to her mouth avoiding it to nibble at her ear.
"Trust me, it's more than okay. I never expected this from you but fuck it was amazing."
I didn't mean to say that. I've never meant to say that to her. It's too crude, disrespectful and that was the worst case of verbal idiocy ever.
Will buried his head into her neck to ashamed to look at her, too scared of what he might find if he did.
" I didn't mean to say that." Not out loud anyways.
He answered his own apology with a loud groan when her hands found his hips forcing him down as she bucked up to meet him half-way. When she timidly admitted that she thought it was sexy the word came out again in a choked, strangled moan his voice and mind betraying him because he hadn't meant to say it that time either.
Emma started to remove his shirt and he helped carelessly flinging it across the room relishing the feel of her breasts against his chest. He trailed his hands down her body caressing her stomach smiling when she didn't flinch as he continued until he felt the waistband of her jeans. Glancing up at her she nodded and he held his breath as he undid the button and tugged a little more insistently on the zipper than he had been planning on. Emma arched up aiding him as he tried to remove the piece of clothing his name falling from her lips when she ground against him. Gently he cupped her not applying any pressure until he made sure she was okay with it. Her hand finding his and doing it for him he decided meant there wasn't a problem. Emma's fingers found the button and then the zipper on his jeans. His protest was cut off with a sharp intake of air when she cupped him the way he was doing with her. Loose jeans were a godsend and her hand over him was heaven. At some point his mouth had found hers again and he thrust forward against her hand breaking off the kiss when she squeezed slightly. He helped her the way she had him to shed his pants whimpering her name in a very un-masculine tone when she allowed him to pull her into him. Emma slid up slightly to place kisses along his jaw and he lost the ability to breathe when his arousal pressed against her entrance. He could feel the warmth radiating from between her legs and all he wanted to do was rip the remaining clothes off and thrust into her, come inside her and they needed to stop. Now.
"God, Emma, sweetie, we have to stop."
She started to move against him and when she pressed down the tip of his erection slid into her slightly and her underwear and his boxers became the only reason he wasn't inside her.
"Emma, if we don't stop I'm going to end up doing something you're not ready for yet."
He jerked himself away when she refused to listen whispering an apology when he firmly planted his hand on her hip when she tried to scoot forward. Will rolled over attempting to calm himself enough that he could give her what he knew she wanted without doing something he wanted more than anything. Studying the ceiling was slightly helpful, slightly because her hands were still burning trails across his chest. An eternity passed before he felt capable of placing his urges at the back of his mind.
He turned to face Emma stopping her hand that was wandering down his stomach with a firm no as he asked what she wanted. Hearing her say that she wanted him to make her come was quite possibly the sexiest thing he had ever heard
Will wasted no time sliding her underwear down her legs not bothering to take it all the way off before his fingers found her clit as one slipped inside her. She's so wet and putting my finger inside her was a very bad idea.
Attempting to make up for his abrupt removal he increased the pressure on her clit moaning into her ear when she whimpered his name. Her hips were thrusting into his hand roughly and he softly told her to come, to say his name when she did. Some variation of his name was lost in a keening whimper so loud it left him smiling and telling her how hot that was as she stilled against his hand. He flattened his palm against her giving her something solid to press against groaning when he felt her underwear dampen more than it already was.
"Good girl," he chuckled, "good girl."
Emma recovered far too quickly and before he could even move to stop her she had slid his boxers down.
"Em, really I don't need-"
"Yes you do. I can't avoid this forever." She sounded slightly unsure but determined.
He gave in because he didn't have the control not to.
"How do you want to do this?"For some reason these conversations never decreased his arousal they way he had always imagined they would, they only heightened it.
Her answer tumbled from her mouth as a blush began to spread across her cheeks, "Would you show me how to give you a hand job?"
She's full of surprises today and yes, more than yes, I was waiting for you to ask this yes.
"Are you sure?"
Emma told him softly that she was, that she wanted to do this for him and at the moment he was in no position to resist. He grabbed her hand and slowly closed it over himself biting back what would have been the third f-bomb when she experimentally tightened her grip. This wasn't going to take long and he was too aroused to be embarrassed by that.
He wrapped his hand over hers and slowly began to guide her movements producing an undignified combination of a moan and a high-pitched whimper. It wasn't long before he could tell that she was catching on and he removed his hand from hers encouraging her by telling her how good what she was doing felt.
"Faster, " Emma quickened her pace, "Good just like that," How did that manage to make sense?
Moving to roll over he told her that he could finish but she wouldn't let him move and he returned his hand to hers squeezing tightly.
"God Emma I can't take much more of this, I don't want to-"
Emma repeated the two words she had said the night they got back from the dog show and Will continued to keep her from moving her hand as he protested three times in a row.
He gave in for the second time and released her hand groaning louder than he thought he was capable of when she moved her hand up and down faster than she had been. That was too much. The ice cream that he could still taste in his mouth combined with the idea of what he was about to do was far too much and he stiffened against her unable to voice any sort of warning as he came against her stomach cursing again and again not meaning to.
His breathing was labored and he wasn't moving for a very long time.
"Will, not that I regret…but can you please get a wash cloth?" That was a very apologetic.
Opening his eyes he found that hers were closed and she was breathing a little bit heavier than she should be. He kissed her on the forehead telling her not to be sorry amazed that his legs functioned enough to get him to the bathroom.
Returning to her side he placed the wash cloth in her hand but she shook her head violently, "Please."
That one request held a slight hint of panic and as quickly as possible he wiped any trace of himself off of her skin triple-checking to make sure he got it all.
"Okay, all gone, you can open your eyes," he placed a soft kiss on the tip of her nose.
"Sorry," Emma mumbled.
"Don't be. I understand. It's fine. The fact that you let me do that was…"Will searched for the right words.
"Fuckin' perfect?" the panic was gone from her voice replaced with the barest hint of playfulness.
"Fuckin perfect," he agreed mentally thanking Pink once again for what was officially without a doubt his favorite song for the rest of time.
Will laughed, "Hey the only thing we had for breakfast was ice cream," he glanced up at the clock. How did that happen?
"Although the delicious Afternoon Delight more than makes up for that in my book."
Emma stared at him confusion written on every inch of her face.
"What does a desert have to do with anything?"
Wow. I should be laughing at that but it's cute, adorable and unbearably Emma. How do I word this?
"Em…uh...I was um, referring to what we just did which is more or less the definition of Afternoon Delight today. Actually I think it's why that term is never used to describe the desert anymore."
"Oh…oh! I thought…you must think I'm so stupid." She covered her face with her hands.
"It's cute."
"All the stupid stuff I do is cute to you." Her voice was muffled as its volume cut in half by her palms.
"Yep, especially if it means I get to teach you stuff, "Will uncovered her face so he could look at her directly, "I happen to be an excellent educator you know."
"Then why are so many of your Spanish students failing?" Ouch.
Ignoring her jibe he continued, "…and as the creative, excellent educator that I am I can teach you things you never imagined…" he allowed the last word to be drawn out, throaty and suggestive.
Emma's POV
Given everything she had conquered today it made no sense that the peanut butter and jelly sandwich that rested silently on the plate in front of her was screaming unsafe. She had no intention of letting Will know what she was going through and she tore a large bite off before she had too long to think about it.
It was sticky, clinging to the roof of her mouth like it was trying to prevent her from swallowing, to keep her from committing a crime that a few days ago wasn't even a misdemeanor. Emma stuffed another chunk into her mouth reaching out for the glass of water to her left to take a large gulp because she didn't want to feel any of it in her mouth for as long as it took her to chew. Looking up she smiled at Will who didn't seem to be aware of her strange behavior. She didn't want him to pick up on it. My problem, not his.
The sandwich had been the easiest thing from the lunch to tackle and Emma had started with it for that reason. Staring at the pile of sphagettios in the bowl next to her right hand she wished she would have flipped the order going from most difficult to least difficult. She hadn't said anything when Will picked them up at the store but he had placed them with the front towards her so she didn't even have a chance at seeing the calorie count. At the time she hadn't been too concerned because he had been so excited about buying them that she had assumed he wouldn't be sharing them with her. Like so many other foods she had loved them as a little girl.
"They weren't hurt you Em." Will's comforting voice floated across the table.
How long have I been staring?
Figuring that this was at least an excuse to eat cautiously she picked up the fork and began to poke at the rings grimacing at the squishy sound they made. Closing her eyes she jammed the fork in one more time and raised it to her mouth shoveling the food in the same way she had done with the sandwich.
This was worse than the peanut butter. It was slimy and the rings fell apart in her mouth into little pieces that she feared would get stuck forcing her to put up with the taste all day. There had been a method to her madness when she had brushed her teeth religiously after every bowl of oatmeal. If she got the taste out of her mouth, especially the sweetness left over from the sugar the probability of her making another bowl or worse going out to find something equally sugary decreased drastically. The thought of finishing the threat courtesy of an aluminum can in front of her was sickening and before she knew it she had done it anyways. Emma jumped up from the table running to brush her teeth before the idea of stealing a couple bites from Will's half-finished bowl could place the control she no longer felt she possessed into the negative range. He, of course, appeared in the doorway seconds later watching her with a concerned, cautious expression.
"I didn't do anything."
"You wouldn't have had time. Were you thinking about it?" He was only inquiring but she could detect the worry behind it.
"No." Maybe? I don't know.
"That's a simple answer." Why is he pressing this?
"It was a simple question."
Will stood by while she brushed her teeth and didn't allow her to stay and go to the bathroom like she said she had to. She couldn't blame him for that and she wasn't sure she really had to go. The weight of the spaghettios in her stomach was revolting. Emma tried valiantly to convince herself that all of these thoughts were the simple result of trying to eat something new but that didn't explain why the sandwich had bothered her so much. Why am I suddenly trying to rationalize away something that made perfect sense for so long?
It was almost an hour later when he told her she could go to the bathroom if she wanted. She didn't have to go but she walked to the bathroom anyways counting to thirty before grabbing a piece of toilet paper because she could always hear when Will did, counting to five before she flushed the toilet washing her hands as nothing but water was gurgled away. Emma stopped in front of the mirror her hand coming up to the bottom of her shirt, her fingers closing around the hem. An inch of skin was reflected back but when her mirror image threatened to reveal more she closed her eyes tight bumping into the counter as she blindly searched for the light switch not daring to look at anything until all she would find was darkness.
Will was sitting on the floor with his legs stretched out in front of him his jeans exchanged for sweat pants and his socks gone completely. The sight of him made her smile despite the uneasiness she felt over what had just occurred in the bathroom. She sat down a few feet in front of taking a similar childish pose as she spread her legs wide and leaned forward placing her elbows on the carpet.
"That looks so painful I can feel it," Will grimaced.
"I'm flexible, always have been. I used to stretch all the time. I should get back into the habit really. It's relaxing."
He wasn't saying anything and Emma looked up noticing a glint in his eyes that told her he hadn't taken her comment the way she had intended it to be. It had sounded completely innocent to her but considering this was the man who destroyed her vision of a nice strawberry desert it definitely wasn't out of the realm of possibility that he was going to twist into something perverted. Emma liked this side of him and she sat quietly anxiously waiting to hear how he would go about altering the previously pure meaning behind her words.
"Yes, you should start again. Being flexible has its…benefits." He smirked.
Oh so that's where he is taking this. Okay Will I'll play along, kind of but it's going to cost you.
"You know what? You should do some with me. Here sit like I am, "
It was so unbearable difficult to keep the laughter out of her voice as she forcefully grabbed one leg and then the other shoving them further apart then she knew would be comfortable for him. Emma wished he hadn't put sweatpants on while she had been in the bathroom.
"Ow, Em, I'm not meant to move this way," all suggestive banter was absent now.
"You're a dancer, yes you are. Besides haven't you ever watched those guys who do yoga?"
"I think my experience with horse riding has nullified that excuse and yes I have watched those guys and I'm convinced they are incapable of having children." He tried to smile and failed horribly.
Emma stood up and walked around behind him dropping to her knees as she slowly ran her hands across his back alternating between touches that were borderline caresses and a gentle kneading motion.
"This isn't so bad." Will leaned into her touch and Emma led him on placing a few kisses against the back of his neck.
Splaying her hands out evenly between his shoulders she began to push him forward smiling wickedly at his wince.
"It feels great doesn't it?"
"Yeah," Will drew in a ragged breath when she applied more pressure against his back," wonderful."
"Get on your back."
"What?"he was still trying to hide his discomfort.
Emma gripped his shoulders and forcibly pulled him backwards moving out of the way so he landed on the carpet and not her. Chastising him for his inability to follow a simple command without question she crawled along his side until she was kneeling in front of his feet. Taking one foot in her hand she made a show of leaning down further than she had to so the front of her shirt would do the same. Sitting back up she told Will to press against her hand while she placed her other hand around his upper thigh letting it accidently slide down his leg blaming it on the sweatpants when his eyes shot open. She used more strength than she knew she should have covering her smirk with a cough when a rush of air mixed with a sound that resided somewhere between a groan and a hiss neither of which contained any hint of arousal filled the air. Emma apologized and Will squeaked out that he was fine.
Lowering his leg to the ground Emma grabbed onto his other foot and she felt Will tense in preparation. On purpose she told him she would be more careful this time saying she would try a different hand placement so he would relax and unknowingly leave himself vulnerable for her next move. There was absolutely no reason to alter where she put her hand other than the one she had thought of only moments before. She kept one hand on his foot and started to push forward but moved the other to grip his inner thigh just below his knee and once again accidently let it slide down until it ended up right between his legs just to the left of an area she was at the moment avoiding. Ducking her head she did everything in her power to act like she was embarrassed glad that her hair hid the smile that crossed her face when Will breathlessly told her it was okay. Emma couldn't think of anything else to do so she made a joke about being done with his torture session when in reality she was just staring it.
Will tucked his knees to his chest using the couch as a backrest and just as quickly straightened his legs out in front him. In another calculated move Emma sat a few feet in front of him adopting the position that had started this whole game. She loved that Will still didn't know that's what it was.
Emma raised her arms above her head arching to her left stretching her fingers out until she was able to grab her toes lowering her nose to her knee. It hurt a bit because it had been so long since she had done this but no matter how long she went without stretching it was always incredibly easy for her to be able to do things she thought should have been more difficult.
Will whistled, " Wow, that looks beyond painful."
Repeating the stretch but with the opposite leg Emma focused on what she could do next. She knew what she was going to do last. Inspiration struck by the time her ten seconds were up and she laid down on her back raising her leg straight up as she grasped her ankle in both hands and began to pull her leg in towards her face. She had no idea how far she was going to be able to get with this and it was going to painful tomorrow regardless but it was worth it. Making a show of sliding one hand further down to her calf she mentally congratulated herself when she was able to bring her leg within a few inches of her nose. When she did the same with the other leg pretending that she didn't notice her body shift slightly so that her rear was facing Will she heard him clear his throat and it definitely wasn't because he needed to.
Jumping up Emma bounced on the balls of her feet a couple times pretending to have to think about her next stretch. She turned away from Will telling him that she was simply curious to see if she could still get her body to do this. That was a lie. She knew she could. Emma bent over at the waist wrapping her hands around her hands just above her ankles pulling forward so her face stuck out just a little bit past her legs. Keeping her tone light-hearted she called out an enthusiastic "Wow I can still do it! Hi Will!" Even through the hair that was robbing her of some of her vision the hand that was placed over his crotch did not go unnoticed.
She had been intending on doing the splits next but the pain from her recent pose as she stood up caused her to scrap the idea. Laying flat on her stomach once again facing away from Will she pretended do some breathing exercises before sliding backwards onto her knees leaving her butt in the air raising it up just high enough that she could look between her legs at Will.
"Downward dog, it's what you are always supposed to end with for some reason." She flashed him a devilish grin that would be impossible to misinterpret," I don't know how it got such an odd name. Do you?"
Will was shifting uncomfortably before she asked him still trying to hide his arousal. His hand dropped to his side after the question and his eyes darkened.
"You're doing this on purpose." The words were soft and uneven.
"Took you long enough Sherlock," she teased stretching like a cat.
It took mere seconds for Emma to feel his body heat behind her. He wasn't touching her yet and that was torture for her. She bit her lip determined to not let him hear her whimper in frustration.
"I know how it got its name and something tells me that you do to Emma," Hearing him say her name practically drenched with lust caused her to curl her fingers into the carpet.
"…but seeing as I'm supposed to be you're teacher how about I demonstrate instead? Demonstrations are the best way to educate students you know…"
Emma absolutely couldn't pass up this opportunity and she hoped Will wouldn't be offended by it.
"I didn't know that actually. Would you demonstrate for me Mr. Schuester?"
His hands were instantly on her hips pulling her backwards as he thrust forward both of them moaning when their bodies met. Will didn't move away from her but he did remove one hand from her hip. Emma held her breath when she felt his fingers mid-way down her stomach slowly sliding south. He flattened his palm against her and she let out a strangled cry that turned to a frustrated groan when he placed his hand back on her hip far quicker than she had wanted him to. This time he did pull away crashing his hips back into her rear harder than he had the first time and she could feel his arousal hard against her. His hand returned to its previous location lingering longer than it had before. He pushed a finger inside of her as far as her sweatpants would allow.
"Somebody's all wet." He still hadn't moved his finger.
"It's your fault."
"No, I don't think it is. You're the one who started this. This wasn't very nice you know in fact it's bordering on rude if I do say so myself," Emma didn't think his finger could go any further into her but he proved her wrong.
"Part of being an effective educator is knowing when a student is acting up, being disrespectful," his hips bumped lightly against her with that word, "and corporal punishment, although I firmly believe in it, has been banned which unfortunately means we are only left two real options. I'm not a fan of giving detentions I think they are pointless but I do believe in taking things away to get a point across. I've confiscated more cell phones and ipods then I know what to do with."
Somewhere in his narrative that Emma had no idea how she was still comprehending he had began to slide his finger over her clit for the shortest of seconds only to push it up into her again.
"I'm not quite sure what to do in this situation however because I've never had a student be so blatantly disrespectful," Emma groaned when he pushed against her, she was never going to see that word the same way again, "so I'm thinking the wisest course of action is to just wait and see where this goes," his was practically growling the words and she wasn't going to be able to stand this much longer, " Will leaned over her back bringing his lips to her hear speaking sternly, "So I'm not going to do anything yet because sometimes the best thing someone can do is," his voice changed to a whisper that she wouldn't have caught had he not popped the consonant sounds in the first word, "walk away."
Emma collapsed onto the ground when all at once every part of him that was touching her was removed. The tingling between her legs was unbearable and she had to do something about it. Tightening her hold on the carpet she pressed her pelvis into the floor sliding forward a bit before repeating the motion.
Strong hands wrapped around her waist forcing her to stand.
"No, none of that." He voice still held an authoritative edge.
Will pulled her over to the couch telling her no again when she tried to lay on her stomach making her lay on her back with her legs spread slightly. She asked for a blanket and he denied her. She asked for a glass of water and he told her it could wait. Emma gave up and began to lower one of her hands only to have both of her arms end up trapped against her chest by one of Will's. He chastised her again as he turned the TV on. The only evidence of their earlier activities was the bulge that was pressed into her back. When she tried to cause him the same discomfort she was experiencing all she got was a very sharp "Stop it." She obeyed attempting to focus her attention on the channels Will was slowly flipping through. Every once in a while one of his hands would be placed somewhere on her body only to end up between her legs for a half second and disappear. When she moaned his name and literally begged him to touch her Will told her to hush because he didn't want to miss a show that he had read about. Emma returned her attention to the TV thinking that she could care less about some stupid program about a Glee club even if it did have really good music and the incredibly talented, unbelievably sexy Matthew Morrison in the role of the club's director. Vaguely she was aware of Will repeating over and over that something that crazy would never happen in a high school and there was no way the kids would just be able to jump in and know the choreography after the director had passed the song out two seconds before. The one thing Emma did pick up on was the uncanny resemblance between Matthew Morrison's hair and Will's thinking how odd it was that she had never noticed before.
Throughout the entire hour Will never did let her relax. When a song came on which Emma decided happened far too frequently he bucked his hips up every once in a while usually on the beat of one which was a detail she never thought she would have been capable of noticing in her current state. His hands would find various portions of her body tapping out rhythms and at the end of every number his hand would stray between her legs and rub against her a couple times alternating the amount of pressure so she never knew what to expect before he stopped touching her again.
When he quipped something about the effectiveness of a variable schedule of reinforcement Emma vowed that she was going to make him regret what he was putting her through tonight.
A/N: Thoughts?