i.
She would be lying if she said she didn't like it when Chase gets jealous.
It doesn't happen very often, not anymore. Usually, when guys get a bit too close or a bit too flirtatious he'll just frown, wait for Zoey to mention that she has a boyfriend (she always does) and for her to shake her head at him, mutter idiot and kiss him on the cheek.
But sometimes she feels like wearing a dress that's just a little bit too tight and a little too low cut to one of Lola's parties or the new club Logan is raving about. And Chase never says anything, but his eyes drag up her body with an intensity that makes her shiver, and she spends the rest of the night in rapt anticipation. She doesn't know who else is staring at her because she's too busy looking at Chase, but she knows she must have someone else's attention because Chase won't leave her side the entire night, arm tight around her shoulder or fingers pressing into her hip, pulling her flush against him.
But the real fun starts on the way home, when Chase has one hand on the steering wheel while the other travels up and down her thigh. They're barely through the door when he's pushing her up against the wall, lips on hers as she wraps her legs around his waist, hands tangling in his hair. His mouth latches onto her neck, sucking a bruise under her jaw and biting at the junction between collar bone and shoulder.
"Mine," he growls, and she spends the rest of the night moaning yours yours yours into his mouth.
ii.
For the most part, she doesn't mind that Chase cut his hair. She's always going to call him Fuzzyhead but she gets that it was a pain to manage, and it's not like she wants to have the same hair she had in high school for the rest of her life, either.
The exception is when he's got his face between her legs, tongue lapping at her clit as she moans and clenches her hands in his hair. Really, a few more curls to run her hands through and grip onto wouldn't go astray.
iii.
No matter how many years pass, Chase's birthday is still always a little sad. For the most part, they don't celebrate it on the actual day and even then it's usually a lowkey affair like a nice dinner or a movie.
Zoey still gets him a present, of course.
"Happy birthday," she smiles, coming out of the bathroom. Chase looks up and promptly drops the book he was holding with a thud.
"Wha - whe -" he stutters. "Thank you?"
She lets out a soft laugh and walks over to him. She's wearing a blush coloured babydoll, lacy on top and sheer down the rest, a silk mint robe covering her shoulders. She wraps her arms around her neck and his hand goes straight to her ass, giving it a pinch and making her giggle.
"It's what I wore to your surprise party," she says. "Just...more grown-up."
"I can see that," he says, and grinds against her.
"I'm guessing you like it, then," she laughs.
"Let me show you," he says, and he does.
iv.
He still manages to surprise her sometimes. She'll catch his face in the morning sunlight, serene and innocent in its slumber and it's an effort to tear her eyes away from him. Or he'll kiss her in a way that manages to steal her breath away and make her dizzy even though it's their thousandth one, or he'll whisper something low and private in her ear, or she'll be reminded that he really is cute when he sweats, and the fact that she ever considered him just a friend is unfathomable to her.
Sometimes, she doesn't even know what it is. He'll put on a simple t-shirt and jeans to go out on a Friday night and she can't help but stare at the way the fabric hugs his hips, the way he holds himself, and suddenly she thinks staying in would be a lot more fun than going out. She knows it's not just her, either, watching the just perceptible turn of heads as he makes his way through the bar. She knows just how special a relaxed, happy Chase can be - how his eyes gleam and his laugh fills a room and how one smile can have you head-over-heels in love.
And she's not exactly jealous of the other girls looking him up and down, but they seem like a good excuse to ask him show her how to do a pool move she already knows; to have him bend her over the pool table, crotch against her ass as he wraps his arms around hers and shoots a combo. And if she spends the rest of the night in his embrace, stealing sips of his beer or pressing kisses to his neck, it's not because she's possessive, but because she's grateful. Grateful to have him, grateful to be able to love him and to have him love her.
Later, when they get home, she'll trap him against the kitchen counter and kiss him long and hard, her knee nudging in-between his legs as his hands slip into the back pockets of her jeans.
"You looked good tonight," she murmurs against his mouth. "Really good."
"Yeah?" he says, looking at her quizzically, because he still doesn't fully believe the effect he has on her. She smirks, nips gently at his bottom lip.
"Really," she answers, and sinks down onto her knees. She mouths him through his jeans, feeling his hands tangle in her hair only to hear him whisper holy fuck when she uses her teeth to pull down his fly, and then neither of them are saying anything coherent at all.
v.
It starts out with them on lounging around on a Saturday, Chase's arm around her shoulders as she feeds him grapes. They laugh as they make fun of whatever mindless show they find on TV, and then Zoey says that she wants to watch some crappy reality show and Chase says absolutely not in mock seriousness, and suddenly they're wrestling for the remote.
Zoey wriggles out of his grasp and hops up off the lounge, waving the remote to taunt him, and suddenly she finds herself being pelted with a grape by a grinning Chase. The remote is forgotten as an all out grape war begins, just like when they were kids, running around the living room chasing each other.
Amidst the laughter, the TV blares, signalling the start of the reality show, and Chase and Zoey dive for the remote at the same time. It's just within her grasp when Chase suddenly gains the upper hand, straddling Zoey and pinning her wrists on the floor above her head in a way that makes her brain go from "TV" to hmm, interesting very quickly, a thought reflected in Chase's own quirked eyebrow.
"Do you surrender?" he asks, voice low. She shifts under him but he won't budge.
"Make me," she says, and Chase's grip tightens ever so slightly on her wrists.
"My pleasure," he says, and smirks, wicked.
vi.
Chase has only been in England for two weeks but she misses him with every part of her, every fibre of her being. It comes from a place deep within her chest and it makes her ache. She misses his lop-sided smile, the crook of his nose, the scrape of stubble when he'd wake her up on Saturday mornings. She misses how it felt to be held by him and his fingers and the way he makes her laugh and how he tastes like coffee and mint, and it would terrify her if she hadn't accepted how much she needed him to be in her life the second he fell back into it.
For the most part, she pushes it down, working late so she doesn't have to spend as long in their empty apartment. She doesn't speak as much at brunch and when she does Quinn rolls her eyes and informs her, "Your bitchiness level always goes up 200% whenever Chase has to travel," and the rest of them nod sincerely and ignore Zoey's glares. But she's embarrassed too, because it was one thing when she was sixteen years old and being in love was new and he was gone for four entire months, but it's another when she's an adult and two weeks has already felt like a lifetime.
So she tries to keep her texting to a minimum and shrugs off Lola's urging to just call him because they can talk when he gets back, they have time. But that doesn't stop her from lying in bed, staring at the empty spot next to her. Eventually - inevitably - she reaches for her phone.
The 'hello' she receives is less of a word and more of a bleary grunt, but it makes her smile even as she feels guilty.
"What time is it there?" she asks.
"Late," he says, voice thick with sleep, and it's like being wrapped in a warm blanket. "Early, actually. Is something wrong?"
"No, I just missed you. I can call back," she says.
"Don't. I've been missing you too," he replies, followed by a yawn. "So, any blonde pretty boys I should be worried about?"
"Never," she says. "Never ever."
"Good," he says, and she can hear him smile.
They keep talking. She asks about England even though she truly hates it at this point, and she's sick of hearing about the food and the weather and their superior public transport. But it's good to hear his voice and when she closes her eyes she can imagine that he's next to her, talking softly into her ear. After a while they fall into a comfortable silence, listening to each other's breathing. Chase's is slowed and measured, and she's just wondering if he's fallen asleep when he asks -
"What are you wearing?"
"One of your shirts and boxers," she answers truthfully.
"That's hot," he replies.
They could just leave it as a joke or some playful flirting, but she wants more and soon she's touching herself, cupping her breasts and wishing her hands were his. She breathes in the scent of him that's left on his shirt as he whispers and moans into her ear. She can't quite get herself over the edge, not the way he can, but it feels good and he's almost there and it's enough, at least for now. And she realises, as her breath slows, her skin slightly sweat-slicked and her face happily flushed, that this is the best she's felt in weeks.
"Thank God for technology," Chase breathes out, making Zoey giggle. At least the last week should go faster than the previous two, she thinks.
vii.
(It's best when he comes back, though. For a while she just lies in his lap as he strokes her hair. He's still jetlagged but his smile has grown a little bigger since he got back and showered the stale plane air off. The curls at the nape of his neck are damp as she pulls him down to kiss her, slower and deeper than the one they shared at the airport. It stays like that for a while as they rediscover the feel and taste of one other, and then their hands are sliding up and down each other's bodies before he picks her up and carries her into the bedroom.
She takes her time with him after that. She relishes the way his hips feel against hers, the way his pulse beats against her tongue and how his breath hitches sinks down on him. It's almost too much, his grip on her waist almost too tight and too hot, the pleasure and the desire almost too intense and she doesn't know if she wants it to end or for it to go on forever.
Later, when she's lying in his arms, she'll kiss his cheek and say, "Thank you for coming back to me." He always does.)
viii.
She's not surprised to find Chase at his desk, even on a Sunday, laptop open and coffee already in hand. She saves the lecture about overworking and pads over to him, leaning against the desk and picking up his coffee mug.
"How's the project coming?" she asks, taking a sip. He sighs, leaning back in his chair and running a hand through his hair.
"Maybe, just maybe, we will have this done by the next time Halley's Comet comes around," he says, which is a definite improvement from where they were three days ago. Giving her a small smile, he leans forward and presses a light kiss to the inside of her knee. "Thank you for being patient."
"Any time," she replies, and passes his coffee mug back to him. They spend the next few minutes like that, Zoey moving to place her feet against Chase's thighs as he runs his hand up and down her legs. Distantly, she realises that she could do this for a long time, decades probably, and it's comforting. She's also very aware that Chase has been fully busy for a full month now and while his touch feels nice, it would feel even better somewhere that wasn't her legs, a thought that results in her cutting him off mid-sentence to kiss and straddle him.
Chase responds instantly and eagerly, pulling her flush against him and grinding his hips into hers. He pulls her shirt over her head and trails kisses down her neck, across her collarbones and down her sternum. Her hands are skimming the waistband of his boxers when his phone rings, making them both freeze.
He lets out a deep, guttural groan, snaps, "Seriously?!" just before he picks up, but it's nothing to how Zoey feels. She's not sure if she's ever been this mad. In fact, she feels like she should send flowers (hell, maybe even a gift basket) to Rebecca to apologise for interrupting their makeout-that-was-probably-progressing-towards-at-least-dry humping-session however many years ago, because she probably would have gone insane and tried to blackmail herself too.
"But I thought that was done," Chase is saying, and she can see her own frustration and irritation on his face. She knows she should get dressed and make him more coffee, maybe some breakfast, something supportive and loving that he would do - has done - for her. But she also learned back in high school that a stressed, slightly angry Chase is actually kind of insanely hot and it's been a hard lesson to shake. So she sees the hard set of his jaw and his grip tighten on the arm of his chair, face almost as angry as the time Logan ripped the head off the giraffe she gave him, and while she doesn't exactly want to be thrown into the wall she wouldn't mind being shoved against something.
Eventually, Chase mouths an apology at her and turns back to his laptop, and Zoey lets out a resigned sigh and pulls her shirt back on. For a while, she tries to busy herself with laundry and cleaning, but she's still wound up and can't help but think of all the other ways she could be spending her day. Chase has started on the phone again when she makes her decision and gets changed.
He's still talking when she walks out of the bedroom, spinning slowly in his chair. For a while he doesn't notice her, so she places her elbows on his desk and starts to flip through the pages lying there, skimming over them out of boredom. After a while, she can feel his eyes on her and smiles to herself.
"I have to go," Chase says after a moment, voice lower and rougher than it was just a minute before. She doesn't turn around immediately, flicking over the page she's pretending to read. "You know how I feel about that skirt." She makes sure to wiggle her ass a bit before she turns around seeing as it's barely covered by the skirt anyway, then puts on her most innocent expression.
"Do I?" she asks, quirking an eyebrow. His eyes go to her chest, bra visible from where it's peeking out of her half unbuttoned blouse.
"I'd say I made my feelings pretty clear with how I ate you out each time you wore it," he says. He leans forward in his chair. "You knew it, and you wore it, even though I am technically at work." He stands up and walks over to her, lifting her chin with his fingers to meet his gaze.
"Did you think I'm going to reward you for that?" he asks, and she's genuinely not sure because she wasn't quite expecting this, was fully expecting to win against him, and now her brain feels like hot static. He presses his thumb against her bottom lip and smiles. "Bend back over the desk for me." And while she's not sure what he's about to do, she doesn't think she can lose.
ix.
It shouldn't feel different now, she knows that. But it still does, just ever so slightly.
They haven't properly left their hotel room since they touched down in Maui. It doesn't seem necessary, not when they have room service and a view of the horizon from their balcony where they can watch the sunset as it bathes their room in soft pink light.
They're tangled in their bed sheets, Chase's hair almost as wild as it was in high school as he lazily moves against her. They should stop, should have stopped hours ago really, sweat-soaked and tender and bruised in the best possible way. But she gets a thrill every time she sees the glint of his ring in the half-light, feel it as he threads his fingers through hers, and then they start seem to start all over again, half-moaning and half-whispering I love you into each other's mouths.
Tomorrow, they'll finally go snorkelling or sight-seeing or any of the other activities on Zoey's carefully planned itinerary. Really, they will.
Probably.
x.
Chase was right. They should not have come to this.
She thought it would be fun to go to their high school reunion, she really did. But it turns out that yes, in fact, they already had enough friends from high school and didn't need more and yes, the canapes are cheap and stale and yes, she and Chase did get back together and yes, this entire thing is in fact a ruse to get them to donate money to an already rich institution out of a sense of nostalgic obligation. They're bored, to say the least.
PCA has changed, too. It feels hollow with all of the students gone for the summer, almost ghostly. Their old dorm rooms got knocked down years ago to be replaced with a sleek, modern gym while the common room traded out its ugly neon furniture for hues of blue and grey. She doesn't recognise most of the teachers and, frankly, most of the people she apparently went to school with. Worst of all, they removed the fountain, leaving a bland, concrete wall in its wake.
But they stick with the tour anyway, Michael and Logan goofing off in front of them. And Zoey walks by and remembers all the times she and her friends used to eat lunch together, or she and Chase used to study together without making out, or the time they pretended to be girlfriend and boyfriend but did not make out, or when they used to lie in the hammock together and talk, until they reach the stairs where she kissed him for the first time and she thinks finally. They've just moved onto the "state of the art classrooms" when Chase grabs her hand and pulls her to the back of the group, shooing off Michael who gives them a knowing stare.
"What are you doing?" she asks.
"The janitor's closet is unlocked," states Chase.
"...And?" He smirks. "Seriously? How old are you?"
"If it's good enough for Logan and Quinn it's good enough for us," he shrugs.
"Gross."
"And do you really want to hear a senile Dean Rivers lecture us about how much he hated us?" he continues. "Besides, all the classrooms are locked, and pool table sex isn't that great."
"Chase, that's not the point. Wait, who have you fucked on a p -" she's cut off by Chase pulling her into the janitor's closet as two staff members walk by, complaining loudly about the proposed changes to the cafeteria menu. She and Chase watch them leave through the barely cracked open door, her gaze coming to rest back on Chase as their voices die down. His eyes meet hers, the sliver of light illuminating his boyish grin, and she can't help but kiss him. She thinks of him, the gentle, smart, considerate man he's become and the amazing dad she's sure he'll be, but she also thinks of the kid with the bleeding arm she met years and years ago and the boy who went stayed up all night learning to dance for her.
"I love you," she says, and she thinks she can see him blush in the half-light.
"I don't think I'm ever going to get tired of hearing you say that," he says. He wraps his arms around her waist, hers going on his shoulders. "I love you too." He kisses her again and she pushes the tour out of her mind, focuses only on how his body feels against hers, how right he feels, how right he always felt. Why not here, she thinks as he pushes her up against the door, and what she means is I will go anywhere, just let me be with you. She pushes his jacket off his shoulders and lets it fall onto the floor, his hands hiking her dress up above her hips, and she hums happily into his mouth, thinks Why not make up for lost time?
A/N: Not sure why this fandom hates fun, consensual smut involving people who know how to contracept when it comes to these two but this was also supposed to be a 1000 word drabble so what do I know. Review if you liked it, please.