A/N: Like the Broadway verse, this is completely original and a different aspect of the Rumbelle relationship to explore. For the most part, this one is pretty angsty. Don't forget any prompts you like to see for this verse or any other one I have written… feel free to leave those ideas in your review or PM me.
One Night Stand
Prompt: Two strangers, both suffering and experiencing loneliness in their way, meet in a bar and agree to one night where they can feel something other than pain. (Rated M)
The rules were simple: no real names and no personal information. This was strictly a no strings attached-no emotions-just the physicality of two people coming together for comfort and release from the hell of their lonely lives.
It started in the bar—he was drinking Jack Daniels, she was drinking beer. They were seated side by side, having one drink after the other. Then someone (not sure who) started talking to the other and the million dollar question for both were:
What brought you here?
"An unforeseeable event happened," he said pathetically, the pain still fresh in his large, coffee brown eyes. "Let's leave it at that."
"Same here," she replied. Throwing back a shot (she switched drinks) she fiddled with the empty glass between her fingers. "Life's a bitch, isn't it?"
"I'll drink to that," he answered, lifting his bottle in the air in a mock toast. Swallowing the burning elixir, he's a bit surprised with himself at how easy conversation has been flowing with this attractive woman. No doubt it was the liquid courage that was helping, but even then… he was never this chatty with another person. Not even after drinking a couple glasses. Not that he was a heavy drinker… God no, he wasn't his father, but lately he's been partaking too much of his scotch collection at home and decided it was best to do it outside of his house so he wouldn't see. He wasn't ready to talk about it just yet and the last thing he wanted was for Bae to ask questions.
But this woman… with her undeniably crystalline blue eyes, the cascading chestnut curls, and those full cherry lips… he felt oddly comfortable around her. Usually he was slack jaw and heavy tongue around beautiful women, but this one was different. He couldn't place his finger on why that was and it was a little disconcerting since it was not in his character to speak at ease with attractive people and in a seedy place like this.
Okay, so it wasn't "seedy" but it was a bar and he never stepped into one his whole life (he had his father to thank for that one), but this called for an exception. In addition, thanks to his father… he knew the types of people that frequent places like this. For all he knew, this woman could be a drug addict, a gambler, or a prostitute. She didn't look like she fell in either of those labels and she certainly didn't dress like a lady of the night, but that didn't mean she wasn't one. It could be her ploy. Dress in unassuming clothes and play the sympathizer until the John makes a move or (if she was desperate) suggest it.
However, he didn't get that impression from her and she, like him, was obviously hurt by something (or someone) and was finding solace in a drink. Even beautiful people had their problems too. Cheers.
Flash forward twenty minutes and his tongue was getting loose and rather daring. Gone were his past misgivings about her and the bar and only focused on that she was the most pleasant thing to look at in this hellhole and as they were both hurting…
"Since we're having a shitty day… we might as well cheer each other up," he hinted. Where in the world this idea came from he didn't know, but he was feeling pretty adventurous in the first time in his forty-four years. Even as a young man he never had the urges like most young men do, although this was far from a middle age crisis. He wasn't trying to relive those wild days (not like he had any), yet it was the appeal of this woman and the alcohol that had him opened to the possibilities.
While part of him was actually serious, he also knew she was half his age. He was really throwing himself out there for rejection and probably a good slap for measure, not to mention he could be thrown out of the bar for propositioning her. It screamed bad idea from the moment he uttered those words, but he was too far gone to consider the consequences, only that he wondered what that mouth tasted like and if she actually smelled like roses or was that all in his head?
He took a deep breath, catching the wafting scent of something floral, and knew it was roses. Or it could be he had roses on the mind since she had a rose hairpin sticking out from her mass of curls that held it pinned up. Either way, she smelled nice and her hair looked very soft and inviting for him to bury his face.
Nevertheless, the seconds ticked away and he realized she had not responded to his proposal. Even in his inebriated state, he knew he wasn't much to look at and certainly wouldn't fall under her "type" of man she would be interested in if he was to be honest. He shouldn't be surprised but her silence still stung him. She could have had the decency to say no.
However, those dark, thick lashes blinked languidly and she tilted her face so she could pierce him with those midnight blues and answered: "Yes."
One word.
The deal was sealed.
But she had some ground rules first. Once she finished her terms it seemed to him that this wasn't the first time for her to do something like this. Maybe she was a hooker after all… Funny, he wasn't disgusted like he thought he would be.
Well, this was a night of new experiences and first times… so why the Hell not?
Yet, he had to ask… he had to know for sure what he was getting himself into. He might have suggested this but he wanted to make sure. So he told her he was clean and hoped she would be honest about herself too.
She seemed to understand him and nodded, a soft blush blossoming on her cheek. "I never done this before," she admitted. "But I think this would be for the best if we don't reveal anything personal."
He had to concede and he relaxed at her admission. She seemed earnest and he wouldn't have to be worried about her taking advantage of him. Perhaps, he should apologize for his earlier scrutiny in thinking she was a prostitute. Obviously, she wasn't one but she agreed to this… he couldn't ruin the moment with apologies.
Instead, he offered his arm to her (it was the least gentlemanly thing to do), and together, they staggered out of the bar and hailed a taxi to take them to the closest motel.
The rest was a blur up until the moment the room door shut and she turned around to kiss him on the lips.
The motion momentarily startled him, and for a second, he forgot what to do… It wasn't every day he had a woman in his arms, willing to kiss him like she was doing. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her waist, remembering to return the kiss lest she thought he was having second doubts… which he did not. Yes it had been some time since he had sex (years in fact) and he vaguely recalled how it was done, but it had been too long he had a partner interested and willing.
Then when she slipped her tongue in to tangle with his… the primal instincts took over.
Clothes were ripped off their bodies and tossed haphazardly all over the room. He trailed his blazing mouth down her swanlike throat as she yanked on his belt to loosen his pants. He bit the flesh at the juncture of her shoulder and neck, earning himself a moan in pleasure, which reverberated over his body.
He never made a woman make that sound! Not even…
"Ryan, I want a divorce."
The declaration came from nowhere and all he could do was look at her in disbelief. "What?"
Sighing, his wife of ten years shook her head. "I'm sorry Ryan but I can't be married to you anymore. There's someone else… has been for some time. I'm sorry but I can't do this. Let's face it… you and I were never going to work. So this is a blessing in disguise. You'll see. It's for the best for you and me and Bae."
They fell on the bed, he on top, and he was bruising her mouth with his as the ugly memory had to pop up in his head. It was hard to believe that he had been blissfully unaware of his wife's unhappiness for years. She needed excitement and their routine lives were too predictable and boring for her. Even the celibacy of their marriage was depressing her, but he was working and they had a child… most marriages sacrificed sex when a child was present, especially an energetic one like Bae. But not even their son was a good enough reason to make it work.
Fingernails dug into her side and she retaliated with her own nails scratching down his back, and then gripping his ass as her life depended on it. The pain and pleasure exploded in his head and he flung it back to roar his approval. This was exactly what he needed… no tender caresses or soft spoken words. Just the raw and primal urges that were bordering near brutality as they stroked, clutched, and bit one another. This was feeling. This was where the hurt disappeared. This was where they could forget the problems in their lives and focused on this very moment in reality. Because right now… he wasn't a failure with a crippled leg that held him back. No, the alcohol had numbed the pain and he was giving it his all… something he hadn't been able to since before the accident. Perhaps, in the back of his mind, he knew he would pay for it later, but with this gorgeous siren lying on her back and beckoning him with a crook of her finger and that bloody red mouth all puffy and swollen from his kisses… he was invincible.
One deep staggering breath and he was back to claiming her lips as his, nipping and tugging, while she did the same until she somehow flipped them over and she was now on top. But he didn't give a fuck. He reached for her, cupping and squeezing her bare breasts, sliding his hands into her hair and goddamn it was as soft as he imagined! Twisting and pulling each curl, he grinned at the whimper that he elicited from her until she was doing the same, but she was scraping the nape of his neck causing him to shudder. He never knew that was an erogenous zone for him and he found that he really liked it if his growl was anything to go by. That seemed to please her as those blue eyes sparkled mischievously.
But play time was over.
He had her on her back again and the remaining obstacles of underwear and boxers were gone in a flash and he was sliding home in that scorching bliss, her ankles hitching over his hips, pulling him closer and deeper as he moved frantically against her.
Fuck it had been too long…
He had no trace of thought running through his mind other than to pound into her mercilessly. It was selfish the way he was using her but then again… she was using him too. Her fingers dove between them so she could pinch and rubbed her clit and then she stopped as she rode out his punishing thrusts.
"I'm sorry Miss French but I'm afraid your mother didn't make it."
Tears choked Belle as the doctor continued his well-rehearsed speech about his condolences and so on so forth. It was supposed to be a routine procedure. Everyone gets this done all the time and her mother should have been no exception. The droning voice went on to say that everything started off well and normal—no complications until something happened. Something changed and now she was dead when she should be alive.
Falling… they were falling, together, as the last pinnacle was reached and their minds faded into the sweet, dark oblivion where nothing could touch them.
