All Too Well
Summary: Mac and Harm are together in San Diego following the coin toss. But staying together ends up being even harder than getting together.
Notes: I was in the mood to write something angsty, and this was the idea that I couldn't get rid of. I decided that instead of the usual way these stories go (Mac and Harm are apart, and we bring them together), I'd write the reverse: they'd start out together, and I'd break them up. Mattie will be a part of this story, but since I always fast-forward through scenes with her in them, this probably will be out of character for her.
Another note: This starts out smutty. Really smutty. And the smut will continue throughout. Because even though I'm going to break them up, CB & DJE had incredible chemistry and I'm not going to ignore that.
Part One
May 2005
"You're here; you're finally here!"
Seeing Harm's smile – his big, beautiful, perfect smile makes my heart beat a little faster, and I throw myself into his arms before he even has the chance to step across the threshold.
His arms tighten around me, one hand moving over my back, and his lips brush my ear. "I'm finally here," he says.
His voice is thick and deep, and my body reacts to him instantly. He pulls back just enough, and his lips move over mine. My lips part and he doesn't waste a second before his tongue is moving against mine. My hands slide under his t-shirt, and one of his hands moves to cup my ass. I start to lift a leg, wanting to wrap it around him, wanting to pull him closer – and then I realize we're still standing in an open doorway. I break the kiss and look up at him. "We should probably take this inside."
He looks around and I can't help but smile as his cheeks turn the most perfect shade of pink. "Yeah. Probably." I back into my temporary quarters and he follows me in, pushing the door shut behind him. Once the door is closed and we have privacy, I push him against the door. I think my slightly aggressive move has startled him, but I don't care. I waited nine years for this man, and then I finally get him – finally get one perfect night with him – and then we were sent our separate ways. At least it was all temporary. I flew out here the next morning, while he stayed in Washington to take care of the paperwork that meant the end of his Navy career. It's been three weeks since that one night, and even though we've logged a truly impressive amount of phone sex hours, nothing comes close to the real thing.
"Bedroom."
It's not really a question, or a command, so I shake my head. "Too far." I run my hands down his chest and stop at the waistband of his jeans. I look up at him before unbuttoning them, and the look in his eyes has my next breath coming out shaky. He wants me as much as I want him, and I feel a rush of arousal that's stronger than I've ever felt in my life. I unbutton the pants and slowly, carefully unzip the zipper. "Is this okay?"
He silently nods and I push down the denim and white boxers. I watch his face. I watch his eyes close, his lips part and I gently take him in my hand.
We eventually make it to the bedroom, but I can't say the same for most of our clothes. His are all in a pile by the front door, and mine leave a cotton trail from the front door to the small bedroom. By the time we finally reach my bed, all that remains are black panties I thought he'd like. He definitely seems to appreciate them as he gently pushes me onto the bed, and runs a teasing finger over the lace waistband and a high-cut leg opening. But instead of pulling them off, he continues to tease me while his mouth covers a breast. I cup his head, my fingers tangle in his hair. A loud moan escapes, and I arch, wanting more. He pulls back and moves his mouth to my other breast.
The feel of him against me – the feel of his warm, wet mouth against my skin – is almost too much. It's so intense and a sob escapes. "Please, Harm. Please."
He releases my breast and his eyes lock on mine as he finally slides a finger past the black lace panties. This time the moan comes from him. He pulls his hand away, and the loss of him momentarily makes me want to cry before he tugs the panties down and gently parts my thighs and hesitates just for a moment before he pushes into me. The sensation makes me gasp and it's unbelievable how fucking right this feels.
"God, you feel good."
His voice is quiet, almost reverent, and I hold him tighter. "So do you; you feel perfect." I close my eyes and enjoy every second of him moving within me; against me. I've waited so long for this and it was absolutely worth the wait.
"And what's wrong with this one?"
I've been in love with Harmon Rabb Jr. for a very long time. It wasn't exactly love at first sight… maybe love at fourth or fifth sight. Maybe it was 'love at seeing him stand up in a courtroom and defend my uncle' sight. I'm not sure. All I know is that it happened very early on, and it's never gone away. Not when there were other men or women in the picture; not when we couldn't be in the same room together without fighting. I've always loved him.
At least I did before we started looking for a home that would be ours.
I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I still love him.
But I also want to throttle him. It's hard to believe that this is the same man who fell asleep last night with his arms locked around me, and who woke me up with his head between my thighs. However, this feels more like the stubborn man I've known for nine years.
"It has stairs, Mac. Wherever we live needs to be a single level." He runs a hand over the beautiful banister and then shoves his hands in his pockets. "This house wouldn't work for Mattie."
I hate the way he says that – and the way he looks at me as he says it. I know he doesn't mean to be, but he comes across as accusatory. Like he thinks that I'm purposefully picking houses that won't work with Mattie's needs. I gesture at the bedroom we just finished looking in. "There's a bedroom on the first floor, Harm. A bedroom with an ensuite bath we could easily make wheelchair accessible. The kitchen is on the first floor. The family room is on the first floor. Why won't this house work?"
He rolls his eyes and gestures up. "Our bedroom would be up there. I'd like to be closer to her in case something happens and she needs me."
I fight the urge to roll my own eyes. He's overprotective of those he cares about; I've always known that. But this just seems excessive. "Harm, she's 16 years old. She doesn't need to be in a bedroom next door. And It's not like this house is Buckingham Palace. You could get from our room to her room in less than a minute if you needed to."
"That's not the point, Mac." He runs a hand through his hair and spins around in a circle. "I'm moving her to a new place with new people, and she's been through enough already. I want her to feel safe, and I want her to know that I'm right there if she needs anything.
It takes every ounce of willpower I have not to continue to argue with him, because I know it won't do any good. I let out a slow breath and look around the house – the cute house with charming historic details that's actually within our budget, that's close to my office and fairly close to his parents, and in a great school district and… I want to cry, because I really thought it was the perfect house for us.
We don't say anything as we make our way back to the car and force smiles for Anna, my realtor who had excused herself so we could talk in private.
"What did you think?" She turns in her seat to smile at us and I shake my head.
"I think we're going to need something that's single level."
Anna wrinkles her nose and pulls out a binder. "That's going to be challenging. The only single level listings are all in areas that you didn't like, or they didn't have the features you were looking for." She flips through a few pages and begins pulling out sheets of paper. "This one is nice, but doesn't have a pool and is only two bedrooms." She hands the sheet to Harm and looks over the next one. "This one is in a nice area, but it's a foreclosure and needs a lot of work – including a new roof, new HVAC, and updated plumbing. This one is very nice, but it's nearly an hour from the naval base. And this one is one level, but it has a sunken family room, so I'm not sure if those four steps are a deal breaker."
Harm and I pass the printouts back and forth, and then return them to Anna. "I guess we'll have to keep looking." She does an excellent job at hiding her disappointment, and shoves them back in the binder. No one says anything as she starts the car, and the ride back to her office is silent.
I unlock the door to my quarters, and walk past him to go inside. "Sorry house hunting was such a bust."
He shrugs and empties his pockets onto the counter. "It's not your fault." He says it, but I don't know if he really means it. Obviously it is a little my fault since I told Anna that multi-level homes were okay, as long as one of the bedrooms was on the first floor. He looks around the bland room and wrinkles his nose. "What about base housing?"
I frown and drop my purse on a bar stool. "That's not an option for us."
He cocks his head to the side. "Why not?"
"We're not married. You and Mattie wouldn't be able to live with me. And since I'm a single woman according to the military, I'd qualify for a townhome, not a single level house."
He shrugs. "We're engaged, Mac. We could go ahead and get married." He grins and leans against the counter. "It would make everything a lot easier."
It's not often that I'm stunned into silence, but Harm has just managed to do it. I know he didn't mean for it to, but Jesus that comment hurt. I know Harm – I know he's not the most romantic of men, and I'm okay with that. But while I don't expect sonnets and roses every day for the rest of my life, I do expect more than what he's suggesting. "So, what? You just want a marriage of convenience?"
He flinches and shakes his head. "No. That's not what I meant."
"Then what did you mean?"
He takes a breath and shakes his head. "I don't know. But we're engaged, Mac. We're going to get married. Why delay the inevitable?"
I glance down at my left hand – my finger is still bare. Everything happened so fast I didn't even have a ring yet. Is it wrong that I want to take our time and enjoy being engaged? "Harm, we're here – we're engaged because the military gave us one hell of a push and it was either stop wasting time, or go our separate ways. I don't want every step of our relationship to go that way. I don't want to get married right this second because it would make life a little bit easier."
He doesn't say anything, but lets out a breath and nods gently. "Yeah, you're right." He steps closer to me and runs his hands down my arms. "You're right." He picks up my left hand and brings it to my lips. "I'm sorry I haven't gotten you a ring yet."
"I don't need a ring."
He rolls his eyes, but smiles softly. "I know, but I want you to have one." He runs his finger over the bare skin. "I love you. You know that, don't you?"
I nod. "I know. And I love you too."
End Part One
