In the Morning
by
Disclaimer: I don't own them. I don't own Max, or Tess, or the Roswell Observatory. I don't own Liz... getting the idea yet?
Summary: During the night at the end of 'It's too late, and it's too bad'. Tess POV. No smut.
Rating: PG-13
I can hardly breathe, the sensations are so fierce. He's gentle, and surprisingly calm for his first time, no frantic rolling or rip-tear undressing. He treats me like a gentleman treats a lady. Of course, the kind of groping I'm doing doesn't really secure me a place in the 'ladylike' category, but still, it feels strangely nice.
Our breath comes hard, but for once, I don't worry about the fact that we're both half-alien, living among humans, and it feels wonderful. Forget thinking, common sense, everything, as long as you can be happy. And that's what Max and I are doing: Trying to be happy.
We've been through such pain, such agony. I came to Roswell, hoping, thinking that he and I were destined to be, so we would simply... be. There was no room in my naive little head for the idea that Max might already be in love with somebody else.
Then, when my schemes all failed, and I realized how soul-deep his love for Liz Parker was, and I thought it would never fail, I went through a depressing time.
I'm still not sure it will. But at least, he's showing signs of changing his mind. Maybe it really is time for him and Liz to move on.
My entire life up until that point had been centered around finding Max Evans, and becoming his bride. After I realized that he already had a love, I wasn't sure what to do with myself. There was no longer a purpose for me on earth.
And finally, now, he takes the plunge, tells me what he's been feeling, how scared he is. And truthfully, I am just as scared as he is, now, because I am no longer diving into this blindly, expecting Max to love me, no matter what I do. I have the entertain the idea that what I do has a bearing on our relationship. And I've never thought of me and Max in those terms before.
I'm not exactly sure where we are now. Max is upset, he's lost a lot, and maybe he's just looking for comfort. If that's true, I can deal, because Max will always be my friend, no matter what, I know that. He's not the kind of guy to screw a girl and never talk to her again. But maybe... just maybe, Max is ready to embrace his destiny.
And that thought sends chills through me, happy, wondrous feelings that make me smile into Max's mouth, and shiver. At the same time, an equal number of chills come, propelled by the fear that I'm exciting myself too much, setting myself up for a fall that will inevitably come.
Max stops his tender ministrations, both of us in our underclothes now. "Are you okay?" He asks softly, his voice husky, his eyes clouded with lust, but equally shining with concern. Concern for me is something I have never before seen in a guy's eyes, especially when we were making out, or petting. My eyes tear up a little at the knowledge that Max cares for me, actually cares for me, not just my body.
He notices, and begins to pull away, that ashamed look that he gets creeping into his eyes. "I'm sorry, Tess. I didn't mean to let this go so far-"
I cut him off, placing a finger over his lips, and making a shushing sound. "I'm fine, Max. In fact, I'm better than fine."
For most any other guy, that would have been enough to discourage further questioning, and get on with the sex. But Max, to his enormous credit, though he reached out to hold me, didn't make a single move to continue undressing me.
"What is it?" He asked, still softly.
I looked up into his eyes. "I was realizing that you... that you're the first guy to care about me, romantically, for more than my body."
Max's eyes look pained as this knowledge sinks in, and he kisses me tenderly, softly, without all of the lust which powered our previous tongue-locks, but with five times the gentle emotion. I deepen it gently, gradually, allowing my tongue to flow into his mouth before he notices. And this time, he doesn't protest.
We consummate our relationship on the top of a mildly uncomfortable metal tube. Not exactly the most romantic of locations, but it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter that it's hard, and it's cold out, and Max and I are naked. It doesn't matter that we could get walked in on. None of that matters, because we both know that we have each other. If not for eternity, at least for now.
After long moments of hard breathing and quiet sighs of pleasure, we get up the energy to throw on a few clothes, and make it back to the Jeep, where we hurriedly pull on the windows and roof, and then give the heater quite a workout. But throughout this, we almost never let go of each other.
Snuggled in the back of the Jeep late that night, we fall asleep, curled tightly into each other's arms. Max snores softly, but I don't find it a disturbance. Instead, I smile softly, and catalog another little thing that I now know about my once-husband and real-life lover.
I don't think either of us considered parents in this equation. And just because I don't have any real parents here on earth doesn't mean that I don't have an adult around who'll be mightily pissed if he notices that I'm not in my bed at three in the morning on a school night. Sheriff Valenti has become quite adept at parenting a lonely, alien teen girl.
But at the moment, too satiated and at peace with myself, with the world, I don't care, and I don't wake Max to remind him, either. We'll just have to deal with parents in the morning.
We'll have to deal with everything in the morning. What's that vulgar expression? 'The shit has hit the fan?' Well, I'm guessing that a lot of shit is going to hit the fan tomorrow morning.
But right now, I can just be happy, and calm and sleepy in the arms of my lover, knowing that right this minute, everything is right in the world.
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