.
If Happy hadn't dropped the bottle of soap while he was in the shower you wouldn't have even known he was home. 2:48 am. You had only seen each other in passing for eleven days straight. The club was running him ragged and for over a week your brief time under the same roof consisted mostly of one of you trying to be quiet while the other slept. Your goodbye kisses brief. Your conversations nil.
11 days is a long time.
You passed missing him with your body days ago. The things you began to miss so strongly were the very essence of him. The way his rasp carried across the room. His laugh, far and few between, but beautiful when it showed itself. The heaviness of his hands resting on your shoulders when he nosed his way into the kitchen while you cooked. Watching him slip into his cut, flexing his shoulders back to let it settle on him as if it bore the weight of a coat of armor. You missed shaving his head and rubbing in the oil that kept his skin so kissably soft. Then there was the heat that came off of him in waves, leaving you to never need a blanket when curled up on the couch together.
You had to get close to Happy to smell the scent he wore so little of, maybe because he didn't like loud smells or maybe because he was so stingy with his wallet, either way - you loved curling up into his chest, extending your neck to get your nose closer to the spot he had sprayed it and getting as many nostril fulls as you wanted. Feeling him chuckle after the first few long inhales because he knew exactly what you were doing. You missed the way he made you feel safe by just existing in your space. And the simple way he chose to live life under the reaper, an uncomplicated man even within the swirl of secrets and bloodshed and buried bodies.
11 days...far too long.
Eleven days made you sleep curled up with his pillow. Eleven days had you picking up his t-shirt off of the floor and slipping it on the nights you missed him the most. Eleven days had you laying on the couch, well past the time you would normally be asleep, sending text after text starting with - 'you don't have to respond, I just miss you'. You sent him endless streams of babble deep into the night, ridiculously thrilled with his sparse responses until enough connection was made that you could finally sleep.
0.o.0.o.0
Happy turned off the light in the bathroom before he carefully opened the door to come out.
"Morning," you whisper into the dark.
His silhouette in the blinds showed you his cheeks raise up and you smile in response.
"Hey."
His brief reply rolled out on a tired raspy tenor, sent a flush to your neck. His voice over the phone didn't carry the same weight as it did in person. You crawled over to his side of the bed, welcomed by his open arms, kneeling in front of him, hugging around his towel-clad waist. Both of you tightening your hold with every exhale. His hands found their way into your hair, trailing his fingers through it while yours rubbed slow circles on his lower back.
Looking up you settled your chin into his hard stomach, "When do you have to leave?"
His sigh was heavy with exhaustion, "Don't got to."
You draw your head back, "Really?"
"Yes. Now move, girl."
Happy all but collapsed into the bed as you scooted back to your side. He was far from a romantic but once he settled in, the single finger stroke he ran softly across your cheek while looking into your eyes, squeezed your heart so hard you blinked away tears.
The way he hovered near your lips, warming them before leaning the rest of the way in to kiss you, took your breath away. The fast then slow, hard then soft way he was kissing you had you knocked so far off balance all you could do was cling to him. His hands roamed your body with no objective but to re-familiarize himself with your softness. You relaxed in the lavish luxury of his long strokes and firm squeezes, his hands cupping and fingertips brushing stoking the embers that had been left unmanned for days, crafting a blaze. When his lips finally began to travel, you moaned loud enough for him to chuckle against the velvet of your neck. He had barely started but you could feel the hot spill of your own arousal, not to mention the vibrating steel of his need against your thigh.
Running your hands over his chest, you voiced your longing, "Hap? Baby, I need you."
Without a word he sat back on his heels, stripping himself of his towel and you of the flimsy cloth barrier keeping him from being where he has needed to plant himself for eleven long days. He buried himself inside you and his face into your neck, his groan vibrating your shoulder while your outcry shot through the room. Drawing your leg up to his waist he held you there, each slide into you reclaiming your parted place as his. You whispered your pleasure and gasped your appreciation, biting down on the tendon that stretched from his shoulder to his neck between muffled shrieks of his name.
Happy wasn't interested in teasing, this was his reconnection to you just as much as it was yours to him. He was chasing the powerful need to keep pushing forward, raising up on his arms, railing into you with enough force to move you up in the bed and make your breasts bounce and sway to his rhythm. The slapping of his pelvis to your core was the sound of the sweetest collision. In seconds, he had you awash in heat, clawing at his lower back and tensed butt cheeks. Happy was concentrated, waiting for you but unable to stop or even slow down. Raising up on your elbows you yank him down for a kiss, jolted by the motion of your bodies it was uncontrolled - wet and sloppy. Sending the last of your cries down his throat before your orgasm swept through you, hard and unrelenting. The force of your walls seizing him sent him over right behind you. Sheer determination kept him pressed deep inside you while he came in hot spurts of pent-up need. You listened to his sharp bellow followed by a groaned string of curses while he shuddered, and with your eyes clamped closed you released a few of your own on high, fluttering cries.
Rolling off of you he drug you to him, not wanting the separation, not even while you caught your breath.
"I missed you," you whispered.
"Me too."
Drawing you into his chest he wrapped his arms around you, tighter than before - tighter than you could remember him ever doing. His breathing became deeper and softer as sleep took him in, but his firm hold on you remained the same as you drifted off.
- fin -