Mehehe. Thank you Lauren for the conversation tonight. Good times man, good times.
She'd asked him why they still exchanged Christmas gifts every year. There had to be a reason; they were still friends, sure but perhaps it was something more. They were on opposite ends of the earth, two different poles, staring at one another, attempting to reason themselves to the equator.
So they sat in her kitchen, both wearing the facades that they had for many years, pretending they were going to talk it out, neither one of them having spoken. So Sara got up and began wiping her wet dishes down, placing them back in the cupboard. They came one at a time, quickly being hidden behind thin oak.
Her movements coincided with her breaths and when she heard him move towards her, her breathing sped up, as did her movements. They became jerky and sloppy and uncoordinated; he made her send a plate careening off of the edge of the counter.
The glass shattered against the floor but he didn't care. She was haunting him; she was in his head, lingering all around. He couldn't take it anymore. He should have asked her if she was alright... but he didn't.
No, he pushed her against the formica, he pressed against her hard. She wanted to tell him to stop but she didn't; she didn't tell him to stop because she wanted it. She wanted him, all at once, all of him. God, she knew that he made her miserable, made her want to give it all up... but still, she loved him. Finally, maybe they were on the same page.
There were moments in life that could be measured in breaths and heartbeats. Occasions came along that would be remembered by gentle smiles and heartfelt laughs. Times could be remembered by taste, touch, scent, sight.
This moment, this one moment would be mark by words slipping from her lips, bestowed on unbelieving ears. He had to ask her to repeat what she had said, it was that stunning to him. "I need you," spilled from her lips again, a feather light whisper at his ear. "I need you."
It was so heavy, the words as they sank in.
A strange response to being pushed up against a counter, but something he could work with. "Not like I need you," he muttered back, spinning her around. Needing to cry and laugh and scream all at once, she simply bit her lip.
And so he just kissed her like it was the most natural thing on the planet. Maybe it was, because the way her tongue teased against his... everything else in the world fell away. In that slice of a moment he was inside her heart and she was in his. They were in a place where words came secondary to touches and sighs.
Forehead to forehead, they stumbled towards the bedroom, both realizing the implication of their movements. They were too wrapped up in each other; they were stumbling over territory that neither one of them knew. Strange new cartographers, not too concerned with the real layout of the land, more concerned with mapping the other's body.
First times weren't supposed to be good; it was pretty much a fact. First times were for fumbling explorations and gentle laughs and imperfections that made it awkward.
Their first time was... amazing. Their eyes glistened and glinted in the darkness, shy smiles tasting like peaches and promise on their lips. Deep, lingering kisses were followed by delicate pecks. Though she knew deep down she shouldn't be, she was embarrassed and flushed when he was through unwrapping her body from its clothing. But the way he allowed his gaze to linger over her... a whole new world.
The way his eyes attached to the many scars, the overt imperfections... the way she was whole and perfect in his gaze made her stomach and heart flutter simultaneously, causing her mind to pause and catch up. It was all too much; senses had never felt like that to her before.
This was the cliché that she needed, the utmost perfection at another's touch. He touched places before he kissed them; his fingers on the pulse point at her throat, feeling her life force beat, beat, beat away for him. His lips there too, soothing over her skin, falling in sync with the pumping of her heart.
Her hands were everywhere at once and when he began to laugh, she began to cry. And that was when it all slowed down; that was when they began to inch towards infinity.
He was over her, she was under him, but they both had the same vague footing, the same vague grasp on reality as they rocked into one another. At one point or another she bit down into him too hard and he growled back at her and all she could do was buck up into him and demand more. She demanded so much more, just with her eyes, just with her hands.
Sara found herself ecstatic with the realization that she could listen to that single sound for the rest of her life.
His skin tasted like an addiction, something that after that moment she would be unable to do without. So she kissed as much of it as she could as he did the same to hers. He didn't say she was beautiful and she didn't claim that he was the love of her life; there would be time for that later... later when they were dangling off of the ridge of forever, later after he'd carefully tracked every hill and valley or her, every crest and plain.
He charted carefully and fully and once he was done he did it all again. Return trips, extended vacations, he was sure he'd get to know Sara Sidle's body very, very well.
And when they got to the very edge, when they reached the infinity that they had both been seeking, they lay back against the cool sheets and acknowledged the fact that they're done it wrong the entire time but managed to end up where they both wanted to be.