A/N: My god, I'm writing so fast...this is uncharacteristic of the Kimbo. *shrug* Anyway, you guys are gonna LOVE the beginning of this, hahaha.
Um, I'm really worried about letting people down, though, so I'll say right now that this IS the most sexually graphic part of the story so far but it's not just straightfoward shippiness; there's some very important plot development, too. But, ya know what kids? I'm starting to get into the whole smut-tastic groove, so imagine what the future could bring. A more elaborate, NC-17 version of what the first few paragraphs of this chapter imply? I think I'm gonna look into doing that...muahahahahaha. Yes. Okay. You've been warned...
*******
She fell giggling onto the bed and nimbly slipped her fingers into the loopholes of his pants to pull him quickly on top of her. Hands slid up his bare chest and grinning lips met fiercely, slapping together between brief periods of heavy breathing and grunts of exertion. He settled himself between her legs and hoisted himself up onto his elbows and then made his way down her neck, leaving puckered red circles where he sucked her flesh into his mouth only to release it seconds later. He moved down to the hollow in her throat, then followed her collarbone to the left and with one hand reached up to slip her bra strap off of her shoulder. Its path was followed by a trail of hot, wet kisses and she reached between them and his hips jerked involuntarily when she touched his arousal through his pants.
Her bra was removed torturously slow but then it was off, tossed over the side of the bed and promptly forgotten. Attention was now focused on her exposed upper half and low moans were forced past her lips and she squirmed wantonly under him as he slowly made his way down, licking the indent of her ribcage and dipping into her navel and growing dangerously close to the waistline of her jeans. His thumb trailed over her abdomen and pushed just slightly inside her pants; this was the fire she liked, the fire for which she now lived. He was so amazing...he was so wonderful and she ached for him and urged him on with her quiet whimpers of desperation. He grinned wickedly at her as he unfastened the garment and pulled it down her legs, tickling her thighs as he did so, brushing just the right areas and delighting in her movements and the way her eyes practically pleaded for what she knew was going to come. And then the final barrier was removed and she pushed her head back into the pillow and closed her eyes and let him have her way with her, wondering how they had managed to last a whole two days without this.
Later on, in the afterglow of over an hour of amazing sex, she lay sated on his chest, listening to the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat. He was already asleep; she could tell from the steadiness of his breathing, and she couldn't blame him after what they had done. She smiled at the fresh memory and at the warmth that still spread through her and at the incredible love she felt for him, the love that for so long she didn't think she was capable of feeling and that she didn't think was capable of being felt toward her. And she stared at the digital clock on his nightstand, the green numbers soft and relaxing and burning the time 11:32 into her mind. They took over and everything became hazy and she slipped away into the precious sleep that was a rarity for her.
Her dreams were innocuous at first. She felt comfortable and content and she melted into a hug though she was confused by the gesture. Who is this person? Why do they feel the need to touch me? I do not know them. Am I supposed to be doing this? Is this wrong? The colonel never does this...
And then she was running, like she always was in her dreams, running for her life because if she stopped it was very likely that she would be killed. They would drag her away and put her in that room with the big knife that's attached to the motor, and the big light that blinds and all the people with the masks that cover your whole body, and they would cut her up and they would put her down with the 'nomalies. That's what Ben said, at least. Ben was never wrong. He'd said they'd do it to Jack if they didn't protect him. And he had been right.
So she ran, and then they put her in the tank and she wanted to get out but she kept right on holding her breath anyway. She thought it was very possible that she might die but oh well. I am not a 'nomalie. I am not a 'nomalie. Even if I have to drown to prove it, I am not a 'nomalie.
3-3-2-9-6-0-0-7-3-4-5-2.
"...no one can withstand torture indefinitely..."
3-3-2-9-6-0-0-7-3-4-5-2.
"...you can train yourself to forget..."
3-3-2-9-6-0-0-7-3-4-5-2.
It burns, oh god it burns. Pain. Pain. Pain. Life is all about pain.
3-3-2-9-6-0-0-7-3-4-5-2.
But oh well, I will deal. If this is how life must be than I will deal. Because I am not a 'nomalie.
And there was more running, and there was killing, and there was sadness and there was pain. Ben kept telling them that the Blue Lady would protect them, but still people were killed and they had to kill people and it felt wrong but they did it anyway because they trusted him even if this time it seemed like he might not know the answers. And they were scared, she was so fucking scared but if this was life than so be it. I AM NOT A 'NOMALIE.
There had been a time before when it wasn't so bad, though. A time that she was beginning to forget. A time when they were too young for intense training, so it was study and obedience drills that dominated their time. And during that time someone had held her and she had been told not to think about it, so now it was just a blur. But it was there, prodding her and trying to surface through the hardship and all the rotten horrible things that had gone on.
"Do you have a name?"
"Yeah...Kristina."
"Hello, Kristina."
And then someone was screaming, screaming her name, screaming "Max" and then it was gone, and it was back to running and comfort was in the good place and you don't go to the good place unless you die, because every time someone died Ben said that they had gone to the good place. Two plus two equals four. They'd never get there, ever...
"Max!"
She awoke with a start, half expecting to be lying on her cot in the barracks and momentarily confused when she saw the mass of skin upon which she truly lay. She collected herself and sighed in relief, kissing Logan's chest and thanking whatever deity might exist that she had found him and that she was here, in as close a facsimile of the "good place" as she was probably ever going to experience. She looked over to the clock again; 11:50. Less than twenty minutes she had slept. Typical. Fearing another dream, she resolved not to let herself drift off again, instead spending the night thinking and staring off into space, as she usually did.
*******
He awoke expecting warmth but instead there was cold, and he looked and she wasn't beside him and those characteristic insecurities welled up inside of him. He had done something wrong and she had fled. He should have seen it coming, he shouldn't have actually believed that she could want him, a norm, a man that even with his legs was still broken. He sighed and tried to focus on the fact that at least he had gotten those few amazing weeks with her and instead lapsed into a pathetically familiar depressive mood.
And then an equally familiar sound filled his ears and he propped himself up on his elbows, noticing the closed bathroom door and the golden light that poured out from under it. The water ran freely for a few seconds and then the shower came on and he felt like slapping himself; you idiot, she didn't leave you, she's taking a shower. He chuckled at his idiocy and briefly considered joining her, then decided instead to pull on a pair of boxers and surprise her with breakfast. Not that it would be much of a surprise; she probably expected it of him at this point, but oh well. It would still make her happy.
He had finished twenty minutes later, just as she was emerging, clad only in a bath towel. He felt like dumping his morning creation down the sink and doing something about that towel, but somehow he managed to control himself and offer her a plate, for which he was rewarded with a kiss. They sat next to each other at the counter and began eating, and to his displeasure she was relatively silent and detached and those fears cropped up again and turned his stomach.
"Is...something wrong?" he asked warily. She huffed and put down her fork, a look of determination crossing her features.
"I've just been thinking," she said. Oh, this is it, he thought. It's over...and then she spoke, and he was relieved, but he didn't dare let on. "That Hererra chick just seems so uncomfortable being in that safe house, and...I told her yesterday that until she starts talking we aren't gonna budge, but you know I don't sleep much and I had a lot of time to think last night and I was wondering if...maybe, if it's possible...if you could let her stay here?" She cringed slightly when she finally managed to get out her request and he sighed heavily and rested his hands on his thighs.
"Max, you know how dangerous that would be," he said softly.
"I know, but...she's so scared, Logan. And I know what it's like to be that scared. It sucks. Isn't there anything we can do?"
He looked into her eyes and the pleading caved him, the sentiment and the desire to help so unlike her but so wonderful to see that he couldn't resist giving in somewhat. "Well...okay, look. You told her we wouldn't budge until she gave up some information; stick with that. Try to get close to her these next few weeks and pull as much as you can out of her and we'll see what happens, okay? I understand, but I'm really bothered by all of this and I wanna be as careful as possible." He covered her hand with his own to illustrate the point and she didn't look as happy as he would have liked, but she nodded and complied just the same.
And then her eyes lifted, as well as her demeanor, and she turned her palm upward and entwined her fingers with his, displaying that smile that she saved just for him.
"In the meantime...it's a Sunday, and I don't gotta work, so...looks like you're stuck with me for the day."
"Oh, whatever shall I do?" he joked with a grin. He leaned in to kiss her and gently tugged on her bath towel until it dropped to the floor in a heap. She chuckled softly into his mouth and hooked her fingers around the hem of his boxers as his hands worshipped her body, and though it didn't exactly get dumped down the sink, the bulk of the food did, after all, end up going to waste.
Um, I'm really worried about letting people down, though, so I'll say right now that this IS the most sexually graphic part of the story so far but it's not just straightfoward shippiness; there's some very important plot development, too. But, ya know what kids? I'm starting to get into the whole smut-tastic groove, so imagine what the future could bring. A more elaborate, NC-17 version of what the first few paragraphs of this chapter imply? I think I'm gonna look into doing that...muahahahahaha. Yes. Okay. You've been warned...
*******
She fell giggling onto the bed and nimbly slipped her fingers into the loopholes of his pants to pull him quickly on top of her. Hands slid up his bare chest and grinning lips met fiercely, slapping together between brief periods of heavy breathing and grunts of exertion. He settled himself between her legs and hoisted himself up onto his elbows and then made his way down her neck, leaving puckered red circles where he sucked her flesh into his mouth only to release it seconds later. He moved down to the hollow in her throat, then followed her collarbone to the left and with one hand reached up to slip her bra strap off of her shoulder. Its path was followed by a trail of hot, wet kisses and she reached between them and his hips jerked involuntarily when she touched his arousal through his pants.
Her bra was removed torturously slow but then it was off, tossed over the side of the bed and promptly forgotten. Attention was now focused on her exposed upper half and low moans were forced past her lips and she squirmed wantonly under him as he slowly made his way down, licking the indent of her ribcage and dipping into her navel and growing dangerously close to the waistline of her jeans. His thumb trailed over her abdomen and pushed just slightly inside her pants; this was the fire she liked, the fire for which she now lived. He was so amazing...he was so wonderful and she ached for him and urged him on with her quiet whimpers of desperation. He grinned wickedly at her as he unfastened the garment and pulled it down her legs, tickling her thighs as he did so, brushing just the right areas and delighting in her movements and the way her eyes practically pleaded for what she knew was going to come. And then the final barrier was removed and she pushed her head back into the pillow and closed her eyes and let him have her way with her, wondering how they had managed to last a whole two days without this.
Later on, in the afterglow of over an hour of amazing sex, she lay sated on his chest, listening to the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat. He was already asleep; she could tell from the steadiness of his breathing, and she couldn't blame him after what they had done. She smiled at the fresh memory and at the warmth that still spread through her and at the incredible love she felt for him, the love that for so long she didn't think she was capable of feeling and that she didn't think was capable of being felt toward her. And she stared at the digital clock on his nightstand, the green numbers soft and relaxing and burning the time 11:32 into her mind. They took over and everything became hazy and she slipped away into the precious sleep that was a rarity for her.
Her dreams were innocuous at first. She felt comfortable and content and she melted into a hug though she was confused by the gesture. Who is this person? Why do they feel the need to touch me? I do not know them. Am I supposed to be doing this? Is this wrong? The colonel never does this...
And then she was running, like she always was in her dreams, running for her life because if she stopped it was very likely that she would be killed. They would drag her away and put her in that room with the big knife that's attached to the motor, and the big light that blinds and all the people with the masks that cover your whole body, and they would cut her up and they would put her down with the 'nomalies. That's what Ben said, at least. Ben was never wrong. He'd said they'd do it to Jack if they didn't protect him. And he had been right.
So she ran, and then they put her in the tank and she wanted to get out but she kept right on holding her breath anyway. She thought it was very possible that she might die but oh well. I am not a 'nomalie. I am not a 'nomalie. Even if I have to drown to prove it, I am not a 'nomalie.
3-3-2-9-6-0-0-7-3-4-5-2.
"...no one can withstand torture indefinitely..."
3-3-2-9-6-0-0-7-3-4-5-2.
"...you can train yourself to forget..."
3-3-2-9-6-0-0-7-3-4-5-2.
It burns, oh god it burns. Pain. Pain. Pain. Life is all about pain.
3-3-2-9-6-0-0-7-3-4-5-2.
But oh well, I will deal. If this is how life must be than I will deal. Because I am not a 'nomalie.
And there was more running, and there was killing, and there was sadness and there was pain. Ben kept telling them that the Blue Lady would protect them, but still people were killed and they had to kill people and it felt wrong but they did it anyway because they trusted him even if this time it seemed like he might not know the answers. And they were scared, she was so fucking scared but if this was life than so be it. I AM NOT A 'NOMALIE.
There had been a time before when it wasn't so bad, though. A time that she was beginning to forget. A time when they were too young for intense training, so it was study and obedience drills that dominated their time. And during that time someone had held her and she had been told not to think about it, so now it was just a blur. But it was there, prodding her and trying to surface through the hardship and all the rotten horrible things that had gone on.
"Do you have a name?"
"Yeah...Kristina."
"Hello, Kristina."
And then someone was screaming, screaming her name, screaming "Max" and then it was gone, and it was back to running and comfort was in the good place and you don't go to the good place unless you die, because every time someone died Ben said that they had gone to the good place. Two plus two equals four. They'd never get there, ever...
"Max!"
She awoke with a start, half expecting to be lying on her cot in the barracks and momentarily confused when she saw the mass of skin upon which she truly lay. She collected herself and sighed in relief, kissing Logan's chest and thanking whatever deity might exist that she had found him and that she was here, in as close a facsimile of the "good place" as she was probably ever going to experience. She looked over to the clock again; 11:50. Less than twenty minutes she had slept. Typical. Fearing another dream, she resolved not to let herself drift off again, instead spending the night thinking and staring off into space, as she usually did.
*******
He awoke expecting warmth but instead there was cold, and he looked and she wasn't beside him and those characteristic insecurities welled up inside of him. He had done something wrong and she had fled. He should have seen it coming, he shouldn't have actually believed that she could want him, a norm, a man that even with his legs was still broken. He sighed and tried to focus on the fact that at least he had gotten those few amazing weeks with her and instead lapsed into a pathetically familiar depressive mood.
And then an equally familiar sound filled his ears and he propped himself up on his elbows, noticing the closed bathroom door and the golden light that poured out from under it. The water ran freely for a few seconds and then the shower came on and he felt like slapping himself; you idiot, she didn't leave you, she's taking a shower. He chuckled at his idiocy and briefly considered joining her, then decided instead to pull on a pair of boxers and surprise her with breakfast. Not that it would be much of a surprise; she probably expected it of him at this point, but oh well. It would still make her happy.
He had finished twenty minutes later, just as she was emerging, clad only in a bath towel. He felt like dumping his morning creation down the sink and doing something about that towel, but somehow he managed to control himself and offer her a plate, for which he was rewarded with a kiss. They sat next to each other at the counter and began eating, and to his displeasure she was relatively silent and detached and those fears cropped up again and turned his stomach.
"Is...something wrong?" he asked warily. She huffed and put down her fork, a look of determination crossing her features.
"I've just been thinking," she said. Oh, this is it, he thought. It's over...and then she spoke, and he was relieved, but he didn't dare let on. "That Hererra chick just seems so uncomfortable being in that safe house, and...I told her yesterday that until she starts talking we aren't gonna budge, but you know I don't sleep much and I had a lot of time to think last night and I was wondering if...maybe, if it's possible...if you could let her stay here?" She cringed slightly when she finally managed to get out her request and he sighed heavily and rested his hands on his thighs.
"Max, you know how dangerous that would be," he said softly.
"I know, but...she's so scared, Logan. And I know what it's like to be that scared. It sucks. Isn't there anything we can do?"
He looked into her eyes and the pleading caved him, the sentiment and the desire to help so unlike her but so wonderful to see that he couldn't resist giving in somewhat. "Well...okay, look. You told her we wouldn't budge until she gave up some information; stick with that. Try to get close to her these next few weeks and pull as much as you can out of her and we'll see what happens, okay? I understand, but I'm really bothered by all of this and I wanna be as careful as possible." He covered her hand with his own to illustrate the point and she didn't look as happy as he would have liked, but she nodded and complied just the same.
And then her eyes lifted, as well as her demeanor, and she turned her palm upward and entwined her fingers with his, displaying that smile that she saved just for him.
"In the meantime...it's a Sunday, and I don't gotta work, so...looks like you're stuck with me for the day."
"Oh, whatever shall I do?" he joked with a grin. He leaned in to kiss her and gently tugged on her bath towel until it dropped to the floor in a heap. She chuckled softly into his mouth and hooked her fingers around the hem of his boxers as his hands worshipped her body, and though it didn't exactly get dumped down the sink, the bulk of the food did, after all, end up going to waste.
