His veins are about to jump out of his skin with how hard his heart is still beating, even his teeth are buzzing with adrenaline… the water keeps hitting his feet but he barely feels it.
He can't seem to catch himself. He's kind of just here. Swallowing too much air but not enough of it. His chest sore with the relief of shoving a burden off, only to have it replaced, and once he's far enough away from her and away from all the rest, he falls on his ass and. Heaves.
Like he's a kid again, and he thought too much again. Felt too much. Put too many shards together only to see his broken reflection. He watches the fire in the distance, even after it blurs. The life of it burns a hole inside of him. Something painfully bittersweet, the first smile after you tore everything down.
He slips his hand underneath the neck of his shirt, pressing his palm to his heart. A void aches sweetly, growing steadily underneath his touch, a promise.
There's a light, there. It's far away. But you see it, don't you? Come a little closer. You see it, don't you?
Despite his newfound flicker of hope, he felt sick to his stomach. His body is parched, but he can't stand the thought of putting anything in his mouth. The moon's fullness mocks him, as much as it pulls his blood with the tide. The dizziness makes him feel high, something he hasn't been for a long time.
He's been lost in his head. Swallowing thoughts and letting them brew in his guts, letting them erode the lining until it got into his heart. He imagines that his lungs are black, even though he's never smoked a day in his life. That's how dirty it feels to remember how he was just a month ago.
So tonight, he breathes clean air. It's salty, of earth, and as his heart settles into an even pace, he opens his arms and falls back into the sand.
You did it. You did it. You did it.
He told her his name.
A breeze picks up, just strong and cool enough to throw grains of sand against his still-stinging leg. He hisses and throws an arm over his eyes. Oh, shit.
"I thought you'd do a whole lot worse," he mumbles to himself. Then he smiles.
God, he fucking loves her. Even when she looks like she's gonna kill him.
Especially when she does.
He searches blindly for his bag, pulling it closer and leaning his head on the side of it. He had to be careful with it. He still has to give it to her, somehow…
He tugs at the zipper, until someone's behind him.
"Dude! What the fuck happened to your leg?!"
He turns slowly, surprised but not showing it. He's too tired to. "Uh…"
Wally crouches down next to him, looking a whole lot older with the way he's staring. It's been awhile since he's seen him with that much concern in his eyes. Not since…
"Don't lie to me."
"I wasn't going to," he says, knowing damn well that was a lie.
"Leaving things out is a lie, too," Wally says, falling gently backwards and resting an elbow on either knee.
Dick looks over to the cave, wondering why she hasn't left already. Hoping that she won't see him like this after all of that.
"The girls just told me to come. It's been awhile," he says quietly.
"How long?"
"Over half an hour. Don't really know what they expected, though."
"I don't know what they were expecting, either. I mean, isn't it obvious?"
"That something's wrong between the two of you? Plain as fuckin' day, dude. It was stupid to plan this… whatever the hell it is," Wally says, his jaw setting. "It actually pissed me off when I heard them tell her to go to that cave. Like, she was having a good time. Then they found out you were coming. And it's like, aren't the girls supposed to be more sensitive to that kind of shit? Like, dude. I know my girlfriend loves to cause trouble, but seriously? We're not in middle school. They thought this was a favor, or something. It got nasty, didn't it? What a stupid idea, man. I'm sorry."
Dick nods slowly, trying to absorb everything he just said.
"Just… I don't know. Seeing you like this makes my stomach turn, dude. I know we haven't talked a whole lot the past couple years, but I'm still here for you. I'm always here for you. You're my best buddy. My bro— why are you smiling?"
"'Cause…" he says, running a hand through his hair. "I dunno… it turned out to be a good thing."
"Good?"
"Yeah," he says, almost wistfully. "Good."
After a long moment, Wally gulps and speaks. "What happened?" and he says it like he's afraid of the answer.
"Wally," he starts, scratching his scalp, trying to soothe himself. "I fucked up really bad. And even though I knew I was fucking up, I kept on fucking up."
"With… Starfire?" he says lowly, like she's a secret.
And in a way, she always has been, hasn't she? Something he tried so hard to hide, and to hide from.
Dick laughs, the only answer he needs to give. "Not just her. Everybody. Even you."
"Me?"
"Yeah. I pushed everyone away, man. Everyone. Even before… it happened."
In a stretch of silence, they stare up at the sky, like some coordinated bout of mourning. The stars look so dim compared to the moon. His chuckle comes out as a huff.
"I knew why they told me to come to that cave. I don't really care why, honestly. I've been a huge pussy for way too long. I had to try to unfuck up. And I did. I tried. I tried, and… she hurled starbolts at me. And landed one on me. I wish she landed a few more, honestly. I deserve it for being a stupid fuck."
"Wha…" Wally breathes, looking like he's trying not to laugh.
Dick looks him in the eye, something gleaming in them. Pity, respect, disbelief… "You know each other's names, don't you? You told her?"
Wally shakes his head and raises his brows underneath his mask. "Y-yeah, of course. Pretty much from the beginning."
"I just told her mine."
Wally's eyes may as well have shot out of his skull. "You what?!"
"I should've told her a long time ago. I trust her with my life, with… everything. I should've fucking told her by now. I'm trying to make up for it, y'know? I'm trying to—"
He tries to swallow past the lump in his throat, tries to swallow past the sudden need to sob. But he holds it in. He doesn't deserve to cry right now.
"Don't hold it in," Wally says, hand closing over his shoulder. "It's alright, dude. You're allowed to cry."
He sucks in a shaky breath, ready to give in. But he doesn't. "Not now."
"Okay," he says. "That's fine."
Dick collects himself before speaking again. "I'm sorry I never told you before. And I'm sorry I didn't thank you. Thank you."
"For what? You don't need to tell me anything, especially this. Not that you can't, but…"
"I know," he says with a sigh. "I never told you anything, and yet you knew. You still know me. Even after all this time apart… even from a distance… you just knew," he pauses to will his tears away, "that there was something… going on."
"Thing about being fast… no one expects you to have much insight," Wally says, laughs. It's lame but Dick laughs, too. It's what he needs. "Of course I knew. I know that look on your face."
"What look?"
"Like you lost something." He hesitates for a moment, gulping. "Someone."
Dick squeezes his eyes shut. He focuses on his breathing.
"I'm sorry," Wally says quietly. "I didn't know how to approach you. And when I called you, I just… completely fucked up. I try to be supportive, but it always comes out wrong."
He shakes his head. "No. It's fine. Why are you worried about that?"
"'Cause. It feels like I failed. You. As a friend."
"Me?" he says, pointing a finger to his chest. "Wally, you can't fail me. Especially not the way I failed myself."
"But that's not what I'm talking about," Wally says sharply, his irritation so sudden that it makes Dick's stomach drop. He doesn't say anything.
"You think Starfire's gonna want you to shit on yourself? You think that'll redeem you in her eyes? Having no respect for yourself?"
"Wally…"
"Listen, I don't know the nitty gritty details but I'm sure I'd feel like hot garbage, too. I'd wanna talk myself down, too. But where's that gonna get you? Where are you gonna go with that, dude? Back to her? I fucking hope not."
Dick shifts uncomfortably. This feels like… a lecture. From his father. That is, unfortunately, necessary.
"Yeah, you were, most probably, a real dumbass. But you'll be a jackass, too. A sorry one, if you keep that up."
All of that, after saying he failed himself…
"I'm not just saying all of that because you said that shit about failing yourself," Wally continues. He must be able to read minds now. "I said it 'cause I know where your thoughts go. I've seen it myself. I'm here to remind you to get a grip."
"Okay, okay. Holy shit," he mutters, holding his hands up in surrender. "I get it."
Wally narrows his eyes, the tension in his expression fading. "You better."
"First," Dick says before sticking up his middle finger.
Wally slaps his hand away. "Fuck you, too."
Dick laughs, the uneasiness leaving bit by bit. "Thank you."
"No need. I'd do a lot for you, bro. I'd kiss you again."
Dick rolls his eyes as he sits up. He finally opens his bag and pulls out a pair of sweats, just thin enough so that he won't suffer in the heat.
"Want me to wait for you?"
"Nah, I'll catch up in a few. Thanks. Go."
Wally leaves in a flash and the same emptiness returns. He's grateful to have such caring people in his life. He's sorry that he loses himself so often that he can't appreciate them the way they deserve.
He can't let it happen anymore. He won't.
He stands and changes into his sweats, baggy enough for the air to go through and not suffocate his burn. The pain isn't as bad as he expected it to be. Or maybe his body's still numbing the pain.
It takes a good few minutes to get back to everyone else. Bumblebee approaches him immediately, guilt all over her face.
"Rob," she starts, frowning. "Look, I really regretted all of that right after I told you to go and… I'm sorry. It was shitty and immature. I just thought… we thought… it'd be good? I don't know. Point is, I regret it. Forgive us?"
He rubs the back of his neck and fights the strange urge to smile. "What're you sorry for? It's fine. I didn't think much of it."
"'Cause. Whatever's going on… it's none of anybody's business!"
"Yeah, you're right. Look, it's fine. Let's drop it."
"Oh… kay?"
He smiles awkwardly at her and pats her shoulder exactly once before walking off, ignoring all the stares piercing into his back. He stalks off and plops down onto the nearest blanket, trying to focus on the music somebody blasted through the speakers. He doesn't know it, but it sounds nice. His chest feels so sore. It's making him sleepy.
"Yo," Beast Boy sits down next to him, looking a little less sober than he did an hour ago. "Why you wearin' pants?"
He cranes his neck slowly and stares him dead in the eye. "Want me to take them off?"
Beast Boy stares, dumbfounded. And then he laughs way harder than he should.
"Whew," he wipes a tear from his eye. "You're funny."
"I am."
"Funny guy, man. You crack me up."
"I sure do."
Everybody around them is talking and relaxing. Eating and drinking and playing. He thinks he said hi to them all. He hasn't really paid attention. There was only one thing on his mind since he got here. The reminder makes his heart constrict. Where did she go?
He searches for her. It's not even a crazy amount of people here, but it feels like a crowd right now. He can't find her. He whips around, accidentally catching Cyborg's attention. He turns away before he could say anything.
He hears the girls laughing. They didn't seem so close to him when he first sat down. What's going on with his mind right now? He thought he got some of it back.
Walking as graceful and shy as a cat was her. Her hands were clasped behind her back. Her dress, like her skin, seemed to sparkle under the moonlight. He could feel the weight of her heart without even looking into her eyes.
He'd tried to sever the connection before. Tried to burn the bridge that connected them, but nothing would give out, someone higher wouldn't allow it. This is the price he pays, now. Feeling the pain he created in her.
He follows her every movement, afraid to look away. It almost feels like watching a ghost.
Then, something catches his eye. It takes him a little while to see.
She smiles shyly, biting her lip, drawing her foot across the sand. She stands and talks, hiding behind a false pretense, holding up her mask. He catches it cracking.
He's never loved someone so wholly like this. Loved someone where their sadness is as much his own as it is hers. She shakes her head and smiles again, but he knows her. It hurts, how much he knows her.
All the noise around him drowns away when she turns her neck. She makes time stop existing. She could make the sun die. He swears that she did, with the way she's looking at him right now.
Neither turn away. Neither move a muscle. The day will not come. He believes this for the eternity they stare.
He knows this language. It never had words, not even a sound.
So when he sees the blood red petals behind her ear, he doesn't know what she's speaking anymore.
The moon could fall, the stars could drip down upon them like blood. It would not matter.
On Earth, magic is supposedly hard to come across, and to conjure. Especially of this magnitude. Where time runs off its many lines and Earth stops its turning.
The petal of her flower is velvet against her cheek. It burns wherever it touches.
There is nothing else beyond him, his stare, the ground upon which they stand. The love letter tucked safely behind her ear, aligned with her heart.
Past the white that covers his eyes, she can make them out. She searches for the outline of them, almost grateful she cannot see the weight they hold. She is already haunted enough.
She finds herself in him, her mirror. Her biggest regret. Her greatest friend. The faith she lost. The longing to transform. He has always known her well, despite what he has said. But just as the utterly chasmic, deepest sense of respect she holds for those she has loved and loves blooms into the break of day and past the drought within her soul, it collapses back into its grave.
She blinks, reeling back as the spell is broken.
In his demeanor, the love is blackened by doubt and pain. She witnesses his realization. A shock so sudden that he nearly snaps his neck and falls backwards. The discrepancy between them has never felt greater.
She imagines each petal gradually go up in flames beside her, refusing to wither and turn to ash. The vibrancy of their love, the palettes of their passion finally colliding and erupting.
Time, as worthless as she finds it now, has done nothing but blind her. Her mother tongue is not the one of her home, but of the eyes, one she shared so intimately with the man across from her. And now, she is able to see.
Her mind, body, and soul is bound to him, no matter the time or distance. No matter how badly she wants to slice and rip and tear the cord that hangs heavily from between their ribs. It lingers, it rots.
It hurts.
As much as it heals and soothes.
The moment, another one of their forevers, leaves. She has lost all awareness of the present. She does not recall the rest of the night.
He wakes up like somebody punched him straight in the gut. The rush of adrenaline he gets is familiar, but it's not from another nightmare.
It's from the knocking at his door.
He knows it's her. Who else would it be? He fell asleep waiting for her. Expecting her.
Almost hoping she wouldn't come.
She knocks again, a bit louder this time. Dread pulses in his chest. He can already see the look in her eyes. It's boring holes through his door right now, he swears she is.
"Jason," she whispers brokenly. He can feel her weight through the wood.
He turns the knob and pulls before he can let himself think even more about it. It can't be worse than dying. It can't be.
Except it could be.
The pain in his stomach is instant, all his insides twisting into knots. The lump in his throat is so thick, he wonders how much time it'll be 'til he chokes on it. The panic from earlier runs to the ends of his limbs and keeps him stuck to the floor.
If he stayed dead, he wouldn't have the privilege of remembering the pain of his body shutting down and giving out to the impact and heat of the explosion. He wouldn't remember the pain of his heart starting again, heating itself up, and the way his blood burned through his veins as bad as the flames.
If he stayed dead, he wouldn't have to witness the helplessness, the depravity in her eyes. The pure sadness that loomed over her so thickly that even he felt hopeless about whether or not she'd be okay.
It's not the fact that she still loves him. He knew it from the start. He's seen it with his own eyes, even heard it not too long ago. He's never been in love, but he can recognize the abandon that comes with love in and of itself. The hatred that fills the void love's absence left.
He forces himself to stay stock still, his expression completely neutral. But her chin wobbles and then he can't.
Her face contorts into something so awfully beautiful that he can't bring himself to just turn away. He wants to shut the door and ignore the whole summer. Pretend that it was meaningless, worthless.
It took him too long to see it.
Before her body collapses to the floor, she collapses onto him. It doesn't matter that she's holding on so tightly. He can't breathe, anyway. The fear and panic are so crippling that even taking in oxygen was too much.
He wants to push her away.
She never had to tell him just how much she's suffered, but she did, anyway. She bore her sole to him, so blindly trusting that even now, he's still baffled by her innocence. That she thinks he's someone she can come to and bleed.
He wanted her only to be a warm body so bad.
So fucking bad.
But right now, she burns him just like the day he died.
How did he not realize?
She sobs into his chest, and each rack of her body makes his heart constrict painfully. Not only with his ache, but hers. She gives it all to him and he takes it, swallows it whole despite himself.
"I'm so-o-orry!" she cries, grabbing at his shirt and holding it in her shaking fists. He lets her.
She should be sorry.
He gulps heavily before finally taking a deep breath. He says maybe just the outline of her name, and it sticks in his throat.
What did she do to him?
He can't name it.
She looks up into his eyes, the horror in them reflecting his own. In an instant, she backs away, her back hitting the walk so hard that he cringes.
He never told her, he's never planned on it. He never will.
She stares at him in shock, all of her color drained to hell. His blood runs cold like hers.
Watching her like this felt like cancer in his lungs, spreading rapidly through his insides.
Her mouth stutters, but no noise escapes her. He says nothing.
Why did it take all of this to know?
She sucks in a shattered breath and closes her eyes, her frown so deep it seems to extend to the end of her.
She reaches for the knob.
That out of two lives, she's the greatest light he's ever known?
He grabs her wrist roughly and pulls her forward, their foreheads and noses pressed together. He squeezes her just to make sure that she's real, and she squirms.
Hot tears leak from her eyes. They roll down her neck.
He wants to lick them up.
The truth he tried to hide in the dead of night…
"Relax, Kor…" he coos, rubbing his thumb over her wrist. "Shhh…"
Without hesitation, she crumbles into him, and he takes her into his arms. He lifts her just enough to carry her over to his bed and sit her down. He crouches down in front of her, hands on either side of her thighs. She bows her head in shame.
… he buries it somewhere else.
But its grave is shallow, and it glows with life.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart. You caught me off guard, that's all." He takes her hand and kisses her knuckles.
What other reason does he have to treat her this way? He never wanted to only fuck her.
He's never been in control. He lost it the moment he first saw her, bleeding out on the concrete.
He didn't even fucking know that he cared. Let alone this fucking much.
He presses his thumb into her palm and massages it, waiting patiently for her to calm down.
He takes this time to calm down, too.
What a fool he is. What a lovesick, depraved fool. He couldn't even let her leave... even when the fear was so palpable that it could have broken him.
He craves her. The touch of someone loving, caring, kind. Someone that brings him to life.
He didn't know how much she meant to him. Not until she found him at her most vulnerable.
And for too many reasons, it scares the shit out of him.
"... I thought that…" she says quietly, wringing her hands together. She almost looks like a child.
"Hmm?"
"That you… h-h-hated me…"
"Of course not, princess…" he soothes her, smoothing his hand up and down her leg. "Why would you think that?"
"B-be—" she begins, but she whimpers instead, looking up at the ceiling like she's begging for the answers she needs to show up there.
"Listen…" he sighs, rising up to his knees and getting closer to her. "You have nothing to be sorry for."
She whips her head and stares at him in disbelief.
"Yeah. Absolutely nothing," he chuckles, pecking the spot right above her jawline. "I was trying to surprise you, but y'know… I left the flower for you so you'd know to come by later, baby. No other reason. I promise."
"Y-you… heard everything?" she dares to ask, clearly afraid of the answer.
He considers lying to her. He knows it wasn't any if his business, but he couldn't… help himself.
"Not everything," he starts, wondering when it got so hard to lie. "It wasn't a conversation I should hear."
A flicker of doubt passes through her eyes, but it's quickly replaced by relief. "I must apologize, Jason…"
"Again, for what? You're not… you don't belong to me, Kori."
"Make me yours."
She says it so simply, without hesitation, without thought, even, that it…
It makes him feel insane.
She wraps her arms around his neck, threads his hands into his hair. He doesn't trust himself to react.
"Make me yours."
The noise that comes from the back of her throat isn't loud, but it's deprived and desperate. The weight of it makes pain twist her face again.
"Make me yours," she breathes heavily, clawing through his scalp.
He stares at her plainly, willing himself not to break.
"Make me yours," she growls heartlessly, falling into a whine that drags fresh tears down her swollen face, more gorgeous than she's ever looked before.
She tugs at his hair in frustration before pulling his head back and latching her lips onto his neck, kissing it hot and wet, sucking near the middle of it. His eyes roll to the back of his head.
Every little thing feels too fucking good.
He grunts as she bites down. It's enough to make him grab her hair and pull it before settling his hands on her hips and holding her there tightly.
"Enough," he says, and he says it like he's on the job, no mercy in his tone.
She tries to shimmy her hips, her eyes glazed over and teeth cutting into her bottom lip. She likes it.
He kisses her softly on the lips. "Give me a second, doll."
Gently, he takes his hands off of her and walks over to his nightstand, taking the lighter there and lighting the candle right next to it. He searches through his drawers, finding a few more candles that he has just in case and lighting them, too. He spreads them out as nicely as he can.
He doesn't expect to see such a genuine smile when he looks up, the furrow of her brows along with it. Like she can't believe he would do something so…
"How romantic," she teases, giggling. She sniffles and wipes a stray tear away.
"Can't expect anything less from me," he says with a playful smirk. "Just relax, Kori. Relax for me…"
He gently pushes her back on the bed and hovers over her, brushing her hair back. He takes her hair tie and slowly pulls it out of her hair, watching in awe as it fans around her head like flames.
"Okay?"
She nods with the bite of her lip.
"Just… no more crying." Please.
He leans down and kisses her fully, deeply, letting it take them further down the spiral.
Their bodies meld effortlessly, heavily, something practiced so many times but only now being performed. Their tongues slide slowly together, each sensation leaving all the tips of him tingling.
"Unh, Jay— mmm…"
"Kori," he whispers.
She wraps her legs around him in response, ankles crossing on his back. He trails his kisses down her neck, leaving bruises and hoping they won't heal.
She arches into him, her soft chest pressing into his. He fills the space with his palms, feeling for the zipper of her pretty, pretty dress and pulling it down once he does.
He kisses down to her tits, pushing them up as the fabric of her dress falls. He kisses the tops of them before biting, ending each one with tenderness.
He lifts himself up to drag her dress off of her, kissing each inch of exposed skin as he goes. He kisses her covered pussy just once, and grins wickedly when she shivers.
She grabs his arms and sinks her nails into them, growling as her eyes glow green. Fuck.
Then she's dragging his shirt off his back, kicking him back once she's done so that he can take his pants off. He wants to laugh, but she might actually kill him, so he doesn't.
He does smile a bit too wide once he slips his underwear off.
Instead of anger was… awe.
He grips the sides of her underwear and drags them off, kissing her thighs along the way. They don't stop shaking.
Then he goes for her bra, tossing it to the floor. He runs his hands down her body before leaning back.
The candlelight is warm against her golden skin, every inch of it as beautiful as the last. She's where sunflowers turn for the sun, she's everything he'd ever fucking write about if he ever had the words.
He leans down and holds himself up over her, her hands instantly on either side of his neck. She runs them down his chest and up again, soothing his heart. She gently brushes his hair back and closes his eyes as he hums.
She holds his face and peppers him with little kisses, each one a tiny form of proof. Look at how much she adores me.
"All I desire… is to become one with you… Jason," she breathes softly between kisses.
He wraps her up in his arms, the smoothness of her skin so soft and warm against him. She doesn't stop, and he doesn't want her to. Everything she does is so sweet.
"... With nothing between us."
He opens his eyes and locks them with hers, asking without words.
Are you sure?
She nods, fighting a smile. He kisses it.
"I won't finish in you, Kor."
She mouths her "okay" and slides one hand up the back of his head, the other wrapping around his shoulders. She presses her cheek against his, her hot breath against his ear. He gently takes her thighs and spreads her legs, pushing against her grip so that he could start this off good.
On his knees, he drapes her thighs over his, tracing lines up and down her legs. She spreads them wider.
She makes him wanna thank God for creating her.
He rubs circles with his thumbs over the sides of her pussy, parting her open. She rolls her hips, her desperation as strong as his own.
"Relax yourself for me, baby," he says nicely, pressing his palm against her lower belly, the softness of it feeling divine under his touch. "Open yourself up for me…"
She arches her back, and he gently guides her down, fingertips running over her thighs.
"Let me make you mine, baby," he breathes, every single part of him aching to be buried inside of her. "C'mon, baby, You ready for me?"
"Yes."
He aligns himself with her, holding her down as he enters her. Her whole body seems to expand. He watches her hold her breath as she takes him in, whimpering as he slowly fills her up.
This is where he belongs. Snug inside of her, watching her being filled to completion.
He stops once he's balls-deep, surprised at how quickly she got adjusted to him. Every little movement of hers makes his vision white out, so he pins her hips down, trying to catch his breath.
"Jason," she sighs, gripping his hand. Her other grasps the edge of the mattress.
"Move."
And he does.
He starts off deep and slow, each pump sending sparks from the tip of his cock to the top of his spine.
Already, she's shaking and shuddering and mewling underneath him, every second having her scratch at his skin.
He grabs her waist tightly, picking up the pace. He hunches over until their foreheads connect, and then their mouths, kisses so frantic and dirty and then she's scratching at his back, and he wants her to make him bleed.
"Jason," she pants when they break apart, eyes still closed.
"Hm?"
"Harder."
He sinks his teeth into her neck, the slope where it meets her shoulder, her gasp hot in his ear. He fucks into her harder, harder, harder and faster, her moans growing louder and just barely sounding like his name.
"That's right, sweetheart," he huffs. "Say my name."
"Jaaaason… ah! I — mmm…"
He leans back, watching her roll her hips to meet his, their rhythm becoming increasingly sporadic, but still so in sync with one another. God, he's not even fucking her. It's more like a dance, more like a fight, more like…
He slams into her, her back arching so high off the bed that he has to lift her by the dip of it. He slides his hand up to the back of her neck and lowering her down with his whole body, his blood definitely running down his back now. He kisses her neck and her chest, her skin hot to the touch but still delicious on his tongue.
"Fuuuuck, Kori…" he moans against her breast. His voice doesn't even sound like his own, dangerously low in a way he can barely register. "C'mon, baby," he rumbles into her neck.
Her legs shake almost violently around him and he smiles. "Come for me. Then you'll be mine."
You'll be mine. Only mine.
"Jason, Jason, Jason!"
Her scream is nothing compared to the way her body squeezes him, or the way it convulses as she releases herself around him.
He watches her, pained and aching, being as close as he can physically fucking be to her and finding that it's still not enough.
She's never looked so gorgeous as she comes.
Before he leaves reality, he slips out of her, her prolonged whine being the sound he cums to. With his eyes rolled into the back of his head, he spills himself on her stomach, wishing it was in it instead.
He takes his shirt and wipes it off of her, throwing it on the floor before falling onto his stomach beside her
They don't talk. The candles flicker by them, their light slowly being dimmed as the sun begins to rise.
"Thank you," she says, but it sounds more like a lullaby.
He turns over to her before his eyes get too heavy and kisses her shoulder. He lifts her arm to him and kisses the top of her hand, too.
"Thank you," she says again, but this time, it sounds like she's already dreaming.
He fumbles with his sheets, drawing a thin one over them. She turns to her side and he follows, pressing his palm into her stomach and her back against his chest.
She shuts her eyes. He kisses her cheek and brings her in closer. It's all he could want.
"All yours," he breathes as he succumbs to sleep.
