Warning: This chapter is rated M for sexual content.

Izzy and Amy, Pt 3

Izzy leaned against the bathroom sink and stared at the mirror, wondering if anyone had ever been so red before. He tried to appear calm and happy for Amy, but there was an overwhelmed glaze on his eyes, and his hands trembled as they gripped the sink.

He thought he was ready for this. He thought he could lead Amy, whose only sexual experience was traumatic. Instead-

Instead, she undid him, unzipped him, exposing all the gooey, wriggly insides. Izzy winced, and his reflection winced back. What the hell happened back there?! After his first few sexual encounters, after adjusting to new sensations and establishing a feel for how things worked, he never got swept away. He was able to focus on his partner, on helping her along, on pacing himself and maintaining endurance.

Then Amy came in his arms, clinging to him and crying his name with that ethereal voice. Then she worked him with her mouth, gazing at him with raw adoration. He didn't last five minutes with Amy looking at him like that. Would he fall apart again if they had sex? Would he be able to take care of her?

But he couldn't stay in here forever, as tempting as the impulse was. Izzy cleaned himself up and splashed cold water on his face. He entered the bedroom, lit only by a dim lamp on a nightstand. The giant round window was a portal to pure darkness, like a gate to another world. He shuddered, naked in a cool, suddenly otherworldly room.

When he approached the bed, Amy rose to her knees, excitement glittering in her eyes. Izzy swallowed hard. One of the straps of her top had slid off her shoulder and down her arm, exposing the upper hemisphere of a full breast. He sat on the edge of the bed, and Amy scooted into him. Her enthusiasm should have reassured him, especially since he anticipated fear and nerves. Instead, his expectations were reversed, leaving him unsure of how to behave.

Slowly, Amy's smile faded, and her eager body language petered out. "Izzy… Are you okay?"

Izzy's head jerked up. What kind of idiot was he? If both of them lost their footing, who would lead? He took her hand and said, "I'm fine. I suppose I didn't expect things to feel so intense." He hadn't considered the emotions of intimacy ahead of time; instead, he had strategized to work around Amy's history of freezing in sexual situations. He wasn't prepared to feel so much, was inherently unaccustomed to it.

"Oh… We can stop." She kissed his cheek, but Izzy knew she was disappointed, saw her excitement discarded like a garment that suddenly didn't fit.

Get it together! "No, if you're up for it, I think we should…" Should what? Knock this first time out, grit their teeth and push through?

Amy gripped her upper arm, her brown eyes cast away from him. "I'll respect whatever you need. But- I thought it was going well. Is it not?"

"Actually, I- I'm embarrassed," Izzy admitted. He meant to elaborate, but Amy's confusion was comedic. He snorted with laughter, and her brow crumpled further.

"Still? I, I know it's vulnerable, but- But you were perfect."

Amusement faded, displaced by shock. Izzy cleared his throat carefully, then said, "I've always known that I lacked… I'm not a physical person, nor an emotional one. I thought my one sexual skill was keeping a level head, being able to think and pace myself. If I'm not good at that…" I don't know what I can give you. Not a comfortable thought for a man wanting to impress a lover. But after asking Amy to wait for nearly a year, the realization that he might not be able to last five minutes, let alone satisfy her, was even more terrifying.

"Ah…" Amy's body language opened back up, likely reassured by his candor. "Is this about finishing quickly? I have zero complaints. And don't you think you're being hard on yourself? You haven't done this in what, two years? I don't expect perfection right out of the gate. I don't expect it at all, ever! I just want to be close to you, because I love-"

Izzy flinched, transported into a horrible memory by what should have been a cherished phrase. Amy's mouth snapped shut. "Sorry," she whispered, looking away.

With great effort, Izzy stepped back from those thoughts and focused on relaxing his tense muscles. When he calmed, he placed a finger beneath Amy's chin and tilted her face towards his. "Never apologize for that. Please. I…" Despite his best efforts, his voice abandoned him, unwilling or unable to speak the words he so acutely knew to be true. "Me, too," he mumbled.

It was stiff, stilted, almost defensive, a dreadful way to honor and reciprocate Amy's feelings. The knowledge that this was the best he could offer festered in his stomach, a sickening sensation. He felt himself shutting down, blocking Amy out- until she grabbed his hand and kissed it. With a jolt, he recalled his decision to never allow guilt for what he couldn't do to prevent him from doing what he could.

And so, Izzy cradled her hand in both of his and looked her in the eye at last. "You said you want to be close to me. That much- That much I can do, and gladly. If- if you'll have me."

Izzy braced himself for hurt or irritation over his lackluster declaration, and was unprepared for Amy's raw, yearning expression. She swallowed hard, and he did, too, unsure of his footing, clueless as to what she was thinking. When she wiped her watering eyes, Izzy clasped her cheeks. "I'm sorry, please, don't cry-"

Her wet giggle totally threw him, and he boggled at her, heart straining with confusion on top of the existing panic. She pressed her lips to his, stoppering his stammering. He watched her eyes flutter shut and stared, petrified, until she eased back just enough to rest her forehead on his.

"There are millions of ways to show you care about someone," Amy murmured. "I hear you, darling."

A significant portion of Izzy's brain short-circuited, forcing him to deliberately search for definitions. After much fumbling, a hit popped up: Darling, (n): an affectionate form of address for a beloved person.

His inability to digest Amy's words must have been obvious, because she laughed and kissed the tip of his nose. In a coy tone suggesting that she knew she would get what she wanted, she asked, "Is that alright?"

With tremendous difficultly, Izzy pulled himself together enough to respond, "Privately, and rarely, as a treat. You wouldn't want to spoil me."

Her lovely, delighted laugh rippled over his brain and down his spine. He felt his body responding, warming, wanting, and recalled reading that laughter could function as an aphrodisiac. It was caused by the endorphins released by both activities, but he couldn't remember more than that, not with Amy spreading her legs over his bare lap, not with the straps of her camisole falling further, not with her playful smile turning wicked, teasing. Not with the heat of her sex planted- purposefully, he suspected- on his. He moved into her, rubbing against the crotch of her panties. His ragged exhalation earned him a peppering of kisses over his neck and shoulders, which set his hips moving. He shuddered, unused to the feel of satiny fabric, but very much unopposed to it.

Her voice was silky in his ear, but bright with glee, eager and playful and sexy and sweet. "But what if I do?"

Oh, shit. I am so fucked. As if from another life, he remembered Amy saying that consent should be joyful. He was beginning to understand; or rather, he saw her joy. It was more like hysteria on his end. He was growing harder by the second, which only pressed his groin more firmly against Amy's. What in the hell was going on? He had expected to guide a nervous Amy, had tried to plan for it, and here she was, giggling on top of him and- And-

Loving him. Wanting him. Trusting him.

"You're truly sure?" Izzy asked, because he couldn't bear to hurt her. "I don't mind easing into it more."

He was woefully unprepared for her cat-like grin. "Oh really? You're the one with a treasure box of sex toys!"

His first reaction was defensiveness- until he noticed the gleam in her eyes. She was inviting him to play, to take it easy. Izzy managed a frazzled laugh and allowed, "I suppose. In my defense, you do spark my imagination."

"Izzy!" she cried, all delight- a delight that spread to him, reducing nerves, releasing some of those much-needed endorphins. He kissed her shoulder, and she dissolved into giggles, flopping onto the bed. Izzy moved with her, still trailing kisses along whatever he could reach. "That feels so good," Amy sighed.

He kissed down to her collarbone, then over the exposed parts of her breasts. "I hope you don't mind, but… I've been considering ways to make this first time easier for you."

She seemed gooey beneath him, soaking up his attention, luxuriating in it. "How's that?" she murmured.

Although he would much rather stay where he was, Izzy lifted himself off her, then settled against her on his side, to better talk to her. "I hope I'm not overstepping, but… I think you might benefit from feeling in control."

Amy tipped her head, and dark hair slid over her shoulder. Izzy absently twirled a lock around his finger, focusing on what he had to say. "In the past, whenever you've panicked or frozen, I was on top of you. And today… You seemed the most fearful when you didn't know what to expect, and when the sensations were overwhelming."

There was a twinge in his heart when Amy's smile faded. She rolled towards him, no longer relaxed. "I think what scares me most about… What happened… Is that I felt like I couldn't breathe. He was so heavy, I couldn't move or speak, and it… It hurt so much. Consciously, I don't think I'm afraid anymore, but… Well, I dream about it sometimes- being stuck underneath him. So maybe… Maybe you're right."

"I'm sorry." Izzy could barely get the words out. What kind of idiot was he? She was enjoying herself just a moment ago! "I thought it might help if you're on top," he said, hoping to reassure. "You can set the pace."

"Oh…" Her brow scrunched up over averted, considering eyes. "Makes sense, but… Well, I don't know what I'm doing."

"It's alright. I'm not expecting perfection." She grinned, and he kissed the mess of hair that he had double looped around his finger. "And, of course, this is a two-person activity. Nothing is on you alone. And if you're still concerned about control, you can tie my hands."

She twitched hard, startling him so much that he dropped her hair. "Tie your- Izzy! I'm not- I'm not going to, to make you vulnerable-"

Izzy sat up, alarmed by her sudden distress. "Amy, please, it's alright. I didn't mean- I'm only trying to make you comfortable."

"I'm not going to put you at a disadvantage, like I was!" The dim lighting shined off her wet eyes. Izzy wrapped his arms around her and squeezed, not knowing what else to do. While they needed to communicate through this, to talk about the possibility of Amy freezing up again, it was clear that bringing up her first time was a disastrous move.

He guided her face against his shoulder and stroked her hair, desperate to undo the damage. "But it's not- Amy- I know I'm safe with you. I'm not at a disadvantage; there's not a molecule of me that isn't willing."

She huffed, pushed back from him, and looked away, clearly still upset. "I didn't know desire could work down to the molecular level," she said defensively, crossing her arms beneath her chest.

Somehow, some way, Izzy scrounged up a wobbly smile. "Neither did I."

Her arms uncrossed as she jerked back towards him. He tried to continue smiling as she stared, unable to fathom what she might be seeing. She scooted closer, closer, until their noses almost touched. "S-sorry. I didn't mean to react like- I know you want to take care of me. And, um… I'm sorry if I was being too forward earlier. I just- I need to know: do you really want me?"

"W-What?" A blue screen displaying error messages might have materialized behind him. How could Amy question if he wanted her? He was naked in bed with her, hard and prepared with supplies, trying to establish a plan between them to help things along. And although he was far more experienced than her, it wasn't showing; her first ever blow job absolutely wrecked him. He wanted more, wanted to give and receive everything he could.

She stared at him, then slowly released a long breath. "Izzy… I understand why you're worried about me, and why you keep bringing up… prom night. But- I can't help feeling- So many times, I've tried to… be intimate with you, and it always comes back to you… Stepping back from it. And, and it never happens. And I know how important it is not to rush you! So, um- Are you ready for this?"

Without realizing it, Izzy had grabbed Amy's hand. He scooted closer, looking into her eyes- still wet, vulnerable, unsure. This wasn't the first time she had asked him that question; back in Ohio, Izzy admitted that he wasn't ready. He was now, even if he was terrified of causing her to panic again. But every time he interrupted her advances with caution, he seemed to unwittingly erode her confidence, and even her sense of being wanted.

Izzy gripped her waist, sinking into the silky fabric and the softness beneath. "Yes, I want you," he murmured, cupping her cheek. "I'm concerned about performing, and about your comfort, but… Yes. And let the record show- I enjoy forward Amy. Very much."

He managed a wobbly grin, hoping to reassure her with humor. But Amy glanced away and murmured, "I don't want a performance. I, I just want you."

And there it was- another centimeter of the zipper that held him together yanked down. Izzy desperately tried to ignore what he already damned well knew: he was hers. There was nothing left to deny, to fight, to prove. He had to believe what Amy was saying: she was ready, she trusted him, she wanted intimacy with him more than sexual prowess.

For too long, fears and anxieties had barred his mind and heart. That detachment protected him, gave him time, space, and safety following the fiasco with Shauna. It helped, back then, even if it wasn't the healthiest habit.

But now… Now, it stood in the way of connecting to Amy. It was time to lay down his fears. They no longer served him- and there was simply no other way forward. Izzy kissed Amy, acquiescing, accepting whatever would follow.

They tumbled onto the mattress, tasting, touching, exploring. When her breathing grew heavy, Izzy slid a hand between Amy's legs and found that she was still wet, hot. She moved into his touch, and Izzy smiled against her neck, reassured and amused by how quickly she shifted from eager to unsure to eager again.

"Are you ready?" he murmured.

Amy jerked back, displaying wide eyes. "Y-yes!" she squeaked.

Izzy kissed her cheek, then eased into a sitting position. Reaching for the condoms and lube on the nightstand, he said, "Can you take off your…" Why couldn't he say the word 'panties'?! Clearing his throat, he substituted, "Your bottoms?"

He wouldn't have believed that her eyes could get bigger, but somehow, Amy managed it. Wordlessly, she slid her fingers beneath the lace of her underwear. Izzy made a few futile passes through the air, missing the box as he watched her slide them off. She bent over to place them on the floor, and Izzy swallowed hard. He wasn't an expert on the subject, but that struck him as an exceptional butt.

With intense effort, he focused, struggling to roll the condom on while Amy was occupied. When she approached him, he was applying more lube to the condom stretched over him. "There's a towel beneath the bed," he said, showing Amy his wet hands. "Could you please turn the sheets down and spread it over them?"

Amy hesitated, but obeyed, and Izzy's hand shifted from applying to stroking when she bent over again. He caught himself and stopped, frantically aware that he needed restraint- and that it was already dead. When the towel was ready, he scooted onto it, then patted the spot beside him. Amy sat with him, hip to hip.

"Can you straddle me?" Again, she seemed to compose herself before taking direction, but soon, Amy was on her knees with his legs in between them. "I'm going to put the rest of this on you," he warned, indicating his slick palm and fingers.

"More lube?" Amy asked.

"It reduces friction and the likelihood of discomfort." Izzy made eye contact as he stroked her, spreading the lubricant over her vulva. He pressed his thumb to her clit and felt a rush of heat as her eyes drifted shut. With great care, he slid his index and middle fingers to her opening and gently added pressure. His heart thumped as he entered, fingers sliding against soft, textured walls. "Does that hurt at all?"

"I- N-no," Amy breathed. Despite the reassurance, she seemed overwhelmed, still wide-eyed and stiff.

"Please tell me if it does." Izzy waited for her nod before slowly sinking in, lubricating as far as he could reach. "Are you alright?"

She tipped her head, but said nothing. When Izzy called her name, she visibly pulled herself together and said, "It- feels kind of good, but also- weird? There's sort of… Pressure."

"No pain?"

Amy gripped his shoulders, as if to ground herself. "No, but- It's tight?" Her brow crinkled with concern. "It, it already feels tight, and your- It's a lot bigger than your fingers."

She wasn't the only one concerned about how tight she was, but Izzy knew better than to say so. "Relax. The lube will help, and we can stop any time. I mean that, Amy. You say the word, and we stop."

"What's the word?"

He couldn't tell if she was trying to be funny, or if the question was sincere. "No, stop, wait. Anything along those lines."

Izzy slid out of her, then stroked the spots Amy had responded to earlier. She eased into his touch and sighed, releasing some of the tension in her legs. Izzy kissed her collarbone, aware that his face was awkwardly just above boob height while Amy straddled him. He held her thighs and guided her over his lap. "Are you ready?"

Her hold tightened on his shoulders. "Yes." She seemed nervous, and Izzy wondered if he should argue. But how on earth could she not be? There was no way for this first time to be stress free, not with their histories. Besides, she said she was ready, and he had already decided to listen and honor that.

He directed her down, until his glans was pressed to her entrance. She twitched away on contact, but with a determined expression, she shifted back against him. "I'm going to hold myself here," Izzy said, supporting his member with his hand. "Push down against me slowly; take your time."

And suddenly, her fingers were drumming against his shoulders as she nibbled her lower lip. "Um, Izzy- Is it okay if I, if I'm not… sexy? Um- If I don't worry about that? Because I- I don't really know… What to do, or how to… be."

At last, there were the nerves Izzy had predicted. Izzy smiled, reassured by having his expectation met, and by this opportunity to soothe instead of being soothed. "Amy, the only thing on my mind is taking care of you." He paused, considering their situation: Amy straddling him, clinging to his shoulders, naked from the hips down, their most intimate bits pressed together. He swallowed, struggling to wet his throat enough to add, "And I assure you, you've already achieved sexy."

With wide, vulnerable eyes, Amy whispered, "It's okay?"

"Everything is okay," Izzy murmured, running his free hand down her back. "You mentioned wanting to be close to me. That's all this is. I'm right here, Amy."

Amy released a long breath, nodded, and lowered onto him. Izzy desperately swallowed the curse that rushed up his throat. "Slowly," he gasped, a fortuitous substitution for fuck. She was hot and wet and tight, and wasn't he supposed to focus on taking care of her? Easier said than done when she was steadily sinking, and his hand was hindering instead of helping.

He eased free and reached up to hold the head board. "I'll keep my hands here, unless you tell me otherwise. You're in control." And she was- she had taken him in, connecting them as much as possible, surrounding him with warmth and supple pressure. Tingling pleasure radiated from his groin, and he tried to ignore it by focusing on the moment. This was epically counter-productive; his heart and mind rioted as they processed what was happening at last.

Intellectually, Izzy was aware of the many factors that had stood between him and a romantic relationship with Amy, or even a friendship with her, really. There was no grand mystery to their history: trauma on both sides, destructive coping mechanisms, and natural inclinations had complicated the process of building a bond that inspired them to move forward together.

But now, all he could think was, What took me so damned long? An urgent, frantic desire to make up for lost time overtook him- or maybe that was hormones. Regardless, Izzy smothered a groan. The primal instinct to claim, to surrender to the long ignored desires of his body, inundated him. He needed to show her what she did to him, to ensure she never questioned if he wanted her again. But he couldn't, he couldn't, because taking her, hard and ardent, would likely frighten her.

Amy blinked down at him, looking bewildered as he gripped the head board hard enough to make his fingers ache, a vain attempt to remain calm. "You okay?" Izzy grunted, reading that same question in her eyes.

Her head tipped quizzically to the side. "It's… pokey." Izzy snorted, then found himself laughing, leaning helplessly forward, falling face-first into her boobs. Amy twitched, giggled, and smushed him further in.

He kissed the plush, warm skin, then eased back up. Amy smiled, no longer looking so worried; and he no longer felt so torrid, so desperate. Izzy reminded himself that a bit of humor could go a long way and drawled, "I beg your pardon."

Her lilting laugh sent his beleaguered heart stumbling. "Keep begging! What am I supposed to do now? This?" She bobbed up and down, and Izzy suppressed a grimace. That motion was likely to break their connection, and it didn't bode well for his testicles.

"Back and forth, not up and down." Amy scowled, confused, so he added, "May I show you?" She nodded, and Izzy released the head board and held her hips, sliding beneath her silky shirt. He swallowed a groan as his hands sank into her. She was so soft, so decadent.

He rocked her against him, and this time, he was powerless to suppress an exclamation. Amy's musical laughter came to an abrupt halt, and Izzy realized that he had closed his eyes and tipped his head back. Flustered, he glanced away.

"That feels good?" she asked. Her voice was suddenly whiny, which should have been a put-off. But he heard the neediness beneath it, and suddenly, it was even hotter in the once cool bedroom. Sweat beaded between his shoulder blades.

Isn't that obvious?! "Y-yes," he substituted, clawing for calm. He was suddenly tense, stiff between the head board and the girl on top of him. Apologies rushed to his lips for how far along he already was. They faded, forgotten, as Amy smiled enormously, eyes bright and delighted.

"Show me again!" Izzy blinked, struggling to understand. Amy patted his hands, a tacit command to move them, and her with them. Dazed, almost in a trance, Izzy guided her through another cycle of rolling her hips towards his, then back. Easy, rhythmic, simple- but effective, at least for him.

After a few repetitions, Amy frowned and said, "Izzy, can you lie down? I feel like I'm smushing you."

"Of, of course." Frankly, Izzy didn't have enough wits about him to know if he was being crushed or not. All he knew was that the sensations were multiplying with alarming speed, and he would leap on any opportunity for a break, for Amy to stop rocking with him buried deep inside her. The awkward dance of changing positions should have eased the haze of arousal, but the respite was short-lived. Soon, he was on his back, looking up as Amy moved above him, working her hips in faster, broader motions, more confident, more bold. Her hands landed on his chest for leverage, and Izzy wondered if she felt his heart striking her palms.

What the hell was happening to him?! Though he was barely moving, a franticness consumed him, a frenzied longing he couldn't comprehend. He sternly reminded himself that he was supposed to take care of Amy. But with a glance of her above him, her expressive eyes overfull and reverent, his heart wasn't just in his chest. It was in his mind; he couldn't hear his thoughts over its pounding. It shivered along his spine; he couldn't fight or ignore the input of his nervous system. It was in his throat; he couldn't speak, couldn't beg for reprieve. When she closed her eyes and moaned, his thoughts blanked, obliterated- then rushed treacherously back.

It seemed that she was just starting to feel good now, when he was already so close. "S-stop," he gasped at last, and the weight on his chest nearly doubled as Amy fumbled to a halt.

"You, you okay?" Izzy gazed up at her, long hair tumbled, chest falling and rising with heavy breaths, face pink even in the dim light, and knew that the zipper holding him together was almost totally ripped down, undone.

Clearing his throat did nothing to ease the discomfort. "I'm close," he croaked, miserable, ashamed. Amy stared at him, brow crinkled and crowding with worried furrows.

"But that's good." When he failed to relax or respond, Amy lowered herself, easing flush on top of him. Her fingers trailed through his hair as she kissed his collarbone, his shoulder, his neck. "I want you to feel good," she murmured by his ear. "So come. Please?"

It was too much. Tears stung his eyes as he wrapped his arms around her and smushed her into him, needing comfort as much as release, if not more. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, hiding there. "M-may I take over?" So far, he had allowed Amy to lead, doing little more than rocking with her at the pace she set. But this close to his peak, his restraint was failing.

She kissed his ear, the most she could reach at this angle, and breathed, "P-please."

What was that high-pitched little 'please' for? Just to shove him further along, without any physical stimuli? Heart straining, Izzy spread his legs and bent them at the knees, placing his feet flat against the mattress for leverage. Amy fell further onto him, all soft curves, warm, dewy skin, and sweet, breathy noises. The guttural, base groan that slid out of Izzy would have mortified him if he had the capacity to notice it.

Fortunately, he absolutely did not. His hips worked, plunging him deep within her. His senses and consciousness restricted, focused on nothing but rising, shivering pleasure, the feel of Amy in his arms, and the increasingly frantic sounds she made. Though he felt it coming, consuming, his climax struck with sudden intensity, like lightening, jolting along every nerve, overriding everything else.

When his brain blinked back into awareness, he found himself breathing raggedly beneath Amy, arms wrapped tight around her. Although he was spent in a way he couldn't recall ever being before, she still moved against him. He couldn't help her like this- but that didn't mean he couldn't help.

Izzy ran his hands down her waist and grasped her hips. Gently, he tipped her onto her back against the towel. She blinked up at him, eyes aching, needing, dazed. "It's alright," Izzy murmured, stroking her cheek. "Just a moment, please."

He had no idea what happened to him while they had sex, how he had fallen apart so spectacularly, but now wasn't the time to analyze. What he did know, with confidence born from experience, was how to help a girl come. And so, he positioned himself between Amy's legs, lowered himself near her sex, and remembered to communicate at the last moment.

"I'm going to give you oral. Is that alright?" Her eyes widened, and Izzy imagined that, under circumstances less dire, she might have argued, or at least dithered. But judging from how flushed she was and the way her hips twitched, she was too close to fuss. And so, Izzy kissed his way down her stomach as a gentle warning, then got to work.

He remembered the kind of touch she responded to most from earlier, and his clever, dexterous fingers assisted as he worked her most sensitive places. It wasn't long before she started making noises that shouldn't have been allowed- the need and heat combined with her beautiful voice were too dangerous, like siren song. While she surely would never bring him harm, she could charm him- always had. He ached when she came, feeling more than he could bear, struck by her power over him.

When she went still, he settled beside her on the towel, and she sighed and cuddled into him. Izzy embraced her and asked, "How are you?"

Her purred response of, "Mmmmm," made his hips twitch into hers, despite his exhaustion. Her eyes captured his, lazy, sated, epicurean. Izzy was wildly wondering if her enchantment over him extended to obliterating refractory periods when she blinked, and focus returned to her gaze.

"Are you okay, Izzy? You seemed really stressed."

He needed a moment to recall the panic and shame that hit when he realized he was going to come so quickly. "Ah," he sighed. "Do you mind if we discuss this after I clean up?"

"Good idea. I'd like to use the restroom, too."

They took turns seeing to their needs in the bathroom. Izzy put his boxer briefs on, folded the towel, set it aside, and placed the lubes and condoms back in the safe. When Amy returned, she slipped into her panties, then cuddled into bed with him. Izzy wrapped his arms around her and sighed, content despite the conversation ahead.

"I apologize. I meant to look after you, and instead… Well, you ended up taking care of me. You're sure you were alright?"

Her shy smile eased Izzy's nerves. "Yeah. I think being on top helped a lot, and I trust you. I was fine, but worried about you."

"I'm sorry." Normally, these vulnerable, heart-to-heart conversations stressed him out, but right now… Izzy was relaxed to the point of gooeyness, and frankly, relieved that things had gone as well as they had. He had feared much, much worse.

And so, he admitted without difficulty, "I was caught off guard. I didn't expect to feel so much." Amy's puzzled expression made him grin. "I'm familiar with the physical sensations of sex, but I wasn't prepared for the emotions, nor for how they enhanced those physical sensations."

Amy trailed a finger along his side. It was vaguely ticklish, but Izzy took it as an invitation to touch. He cupped her thigh, appreciating the softness, and the sensation of her skin cooling after that burst of activity. "I don't follow," she admitted, and he patted her hip, as if to reassure.

"In my previous experience, there was pressure to perform." Izzy paused, wondering if he should expand on that: on the pitying smirks, the microaggressions. He quickly dismissed the notion, as it would upset them both during the cuddly, mellow afterglow. "Sex felt good, physically, but… It wasn't intimate or emotional, and there was always a stress factor. And then…"

And then, there was you. His feelings caught up to him at last, overriding the sedating post-sex haze. "I knew my last relationship hurt me, but I thought I came away with some useful experience. I realize now that I know how to have sex, but I didn't know how- How to-"

Heat rose to his face, and the way Amy inched closer and stared made him certain that he was blushing. There was no way he could say something so cheesy, but what was he supposed to do? She was hanging on his words, no doubt sensing the weight of them with her powerful intuition. He gripped her thigh, feeling strangely like he would stumble, despite being tucked in bed.

Looking any goddamn place but at her, he muttered, "How, how to make love."

There was a moment of silence, during which Izzy's stomach seemed to dissolve. Then, Amy breathed, "That's the cutest thing you've ever said."

He didn't intend to look, but Izzy's eyes betrayed him, turning to Amy to find a dopey, lovestruck smile. His shoulders hunched as he wriggled away, defensive and stupid with it. "How could- You haven't heard everything I've ever said!"

Her smile morphed from sweet to teasing. "Well, no. But am I wrong?" When he huffed, refusing to confirm, but unwilling to lie, Amy's grin faded. She moved back into him and cupped his cheek, but Izzy wasn't ready to meet her eye. "I'm not teasing you," she said gently. "I like it, I really do. We've both had sex before, but you're still… You're my first lover."

Izzy's grunt was not the suavest response, but what could he do? Changing the subject was the best he could manage. "You're sure you're alright?"

"Alright? I'm great!" She smushed him in a full body hug. "You were perfect."

Izzy hesitated, struggling to digest Amy's words. She was smiling, showing no trace of meaning anything but what she said. "You really don't mind that I-" Fell apart? Let you do almost everything? "That, ah, it was short?"

Amy's long hair swayed as she emphatically shook her head. "I don't know what I'm doing yet, so- I think horny and efficient was best. And, even if sex feels kind of weird at first, um- I, I really liked it. And the oral felt amazing. What could I complain about?"

The corner of Izzy's mouth twitched up. Shauna coached him extensively through learning anything and everything that made her feel good. He was well aware that he knew how to use his mouth and hands. And while he would prefer to leave his debilitating anxieties about his body image, ability to be a good romantic partner, and ability to be vulnerable with someone new far behind him… Well, he wouldn't complain if he took something useful forward.

Especially not if it made Amy feel good. And if it put her in the mood to have sex… Well, so much the better. "I'm not sure how many chances we'll have to be alone on campus," Izzy began. "But if the opportunity arises, and you're interested… All you have to do is ask. In the meantime… Well, we're here for the weekend."

Amy laughed, but it was frazzled, and accompanied by a glazed sheen on her eyes. Grinning, Izzy kissed her cheek. "Uh, um- Let's, um, talk about that tomorrow? I, I'm pretty worn out."

"Me, too," Izzy admitted- thought not without a measure of reluctance. "But, if you don't mind… There is one more thing I want to ask about before bed."

Amy tipped her head, allowing the question. "I'm sorry," Izzy began, aware that he was probing something difficult. "It's just- You mentioned having nightmares about… About your prom night. And I believe you've said in the past that you don't really have a confidant, because…"

Because Kari and TK were too young, and Mimi, Matt, and even Tai had pushed her to date Jerry. Izzy fell silent, unwilling to say all of that. Amy nodded, but the pain in her eyes warned him against pressing further.

"If you have nightmares, call me. I'll talk to Joe and Sora about… Surely, they won't mind if we sleep together in the literal sense. And if you need to talk to someone, please, come to me. I want to help you."

"Izzy… Thank you. But, please, I don't want to think of that now." Amy kissed him, soft and gentle, but the sadness in her eyes made his heart twinge. Although his goal was always to help, to offer support and avoid triggering any trauma, Izzy knew he couldn't keep referencing prom night. They had established that she could have sex without panicking, and that he would listen if she wanted to talk. It was time to firmly drop the subject, unless she brought it up herself.

He was about to apologize when she added, "Tonight, I'm going to think of you… And about what we'll do tomorrow."

"Understood." His voice came out high-pitched, and Amy grinned as he cleared his throat. "But please, know that I'm here for you."

Amy snuggled into him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Thank you. I'm counting on that."

Her soft smile was broken by an enormous yawn. It spread to Izzy, who suggested, "Shall we get ready for bed?"

"Sure. I'll brush my teeth." Amy stood, but quickly sat back down. Izzy asked what was wrong, and she muttered, "Um- My legs are, uh, wobbly."

Izzy couldn't help it; he laughed, sat beside her on the edge of the bed, and wrapped an arm around her waist. "Do you need help?" he teased.

Amy batted his hand. "Ugh, you! I'm fine!"

But for the first time tonight, Izzy felt truly reassured, confident that all was well. Now that he sensed an advantage, he pressed it. "Speaking of what we'll do tomorrow… Would you consider showering with me in the morning?"

Her head whipped towards him, her eyes wide, then narrow with annoyance. "Are you- Are you trying to get me out of this?!" she demanded, plucking the bottom of her camisole.

"Can you blame me?" Izzy asked, with precisely zero shame. They bickered playfully through their bedtime routine, until Amy conceded that she would shower with him- if he behaved. When he responded that his intention was to do anything but, Amy made a weird squelching noise, then fell silent until they settled into bed together.

Izzy turned off the light on his nightstand and kissed her softly. From the darkness, her voice murmured, "What am I going to do with you, darling?"

It was a pity that she couldn't see his grin. "I have some suggestions."

She smacked his shoulder, then wrapped her arms around him, giggling. Slowly, they settled down, drifting off, cuddled together in the center of the large bed.

It was, Izzy reflected, an exceptional place to be.

Author's Note: Man, their moods were in heavy flux in this one. I hope it doesn't feel too, like, roller-coaster-ish! But, while they've come a long way and are making serious progress, there's still work to be done before Amy and Izzy can just… be confident and comfortable sexually, and not have to worry about accidentally hurting or frightening one another. But they're definitely on the way there, and I'm confident that the next time we see them being intimate, they'll be doing much better!

That time is far away, though! The next time I see you in Four Years, we'll be starting a new segment, where Amy and Izzy quietly continue their work on themselves in the background while Tai, Sora, Matt, Joe, Mimi, Hana, and even Dyani have arcs/deal with their stuff. Amy and Izzy will still be around, and will have scenes here and there if they hit major moments, but for the most part, they'll be much quieter.

Do you have any ideas for what might come up for the others? I hope you'll look forward to it! I'm not really sure if I will switch to Tri: Integrity Lens exclusively, or… Or what! But I'll be around, writing, so I hope I'll see you! Thanks so much for reading, please let me know what you think as we move into a new phase of Four Years!