Author's Note: More PIKE? Oh well, ok. If you insist. There's a bit of sexy times in this chapter (I try to stay pretty vague, nothing too detailed. Should be able to hold onto the T rating)
Hope everyone is having a lovely weekend!
Mike Warren is pretty sure he's just died.
Again.
Because Mike can't breath.
Can't move.
Can't think.
Again.
His heart is beating wildly in his chest at exactly the same rhythm it did when Sid Markum was squeezing his ventilator tube. All the same signs are there. The pounding heart. The sweaty palms. The uncontrollable squirming. The lack of air. Lack of thought. The desperation. The need.
Mike's entire world shakes and then freezes. He's afraid to move. His brain churns to a stop, completely unable to process one vital piece of information...Paige is kissing him.
Paige is kissing him, and it feels exactly like he's drowning alive on land with the exception of the one crucial difference that this time it feels incredible.
He closes his eyes, his breathing coming out choppy, as he stands there and allows her to kiss him. Her lips softly brush against his, trying to coax the Mike she knows out from where he's hiding in this hallow shell of a man.
Slowly coming back to the world, he brings a hand up to brush the hair back from her face. His fingers tangling in her blonde hair as finally he begins to kiss her back. Once he starts, he can't stop. He turns his body so he can get more and more contact until he's finally leaning over her, pinning her to the desk, kissing her lips with a building intensity.
She runs her hands over his abdomen and is shocked at how she can feel each rib clearly outlined, all the weight gone from his normally muscular body. He looks down at her hands in embarrassment. He doesn't want her to see how hard this is for him. How much he's struggling.
He doesn't want her pity. He brought this upon himself. He knows he needs to suffer to atone for his sins, but he doesn't want her to see him like this. He can offer her nothing but pain, and she deserves so much more. Part of him wants to tell her to run. To transfer to another department in another town, to leave him and Graceland behind. To be safe. The other part of him doesn't know how he would survive without her.
Just the memory of her, seems like the only thing that's been sustaining him these past few weeks of hiding.
"I'm sorry..." She starts to speaks, but he stops her.
"I don't care." He brings both hands to her face and pulls her in for another kiss. "This wasn't you."
Paige decides for once, not to argue with him, and instead drags the hem of his shirt up his body. He finishes the job of removing it, and lets it drop to the floor beside them, leaning back in and bringing her legs so they wrap around his waist. He kisses her mouth again and again shoving her back down on the desk, his hands running up her smooth leg. He savors the feeling of her fingers on his bare skin, the human connection he hasn't had since his death. He wonders if she knows how much he needs this. How much he needs her.
She brings her hands down to the back of his pants, trying to force his hips to dig deeper into hers. Mike pulls back slightly, his breathing rough. Things are getting out of hand quickly. He doesn't even know what happened to her at Sulla's, and he doesn't want her to do something she's not comfortable with in apology or out of pity.
"Paige, you don't have to do this. Your head-" He begins to protest, but looking down at her lust filled eyes, he can't even keep his lips away from her long enough to finish his sentence.
With a deep growl of frustration at his own lack of willpower, he crushes his lips back on top of her's so roughly the two of them nearly fall off the desk. He catches his balance on the wall behind her and she wraps her legs tighter around his waist, climbing up his body, until she no longer needs the support of the desk he's just holding her.
He looks up at her in wonder, as she finally pulls her lips away to stroke his face gently. She is so heartbreakingly beautiful. Even with the ugly gash on her forehead, she seems to glow in the pale moonlight from the broken window. She looks out of place in this dark grungy room.
He doesn't know how tonight he ended up with her in his arms. He hasn't had her here since before the tinkerbells. Before it all started falling apart. He has to look away from her gentle stare, and he begins to set her down. He can feel the guilt for past events wrapping around his neck like a noose.
She slides down his body and Mike sets her gently on the ground. He watches her as she walks around the room, examining every detail of her surrounding casually. He's slow and sluggish these days, the malnutrition and despair eating away at him. Having her here feels like he's waking up from the dead, and he's unprepared for the return of emotions he hasn't felt in months.
She looks at the tattered blanket in the corner on the concrete floor. Turning to him in a hushed whisper she asks, "This is where you sleep?"
He nods, awaiting her reaction sadly. He didn't want her to see this. He wanted her to believe that he had it all under control. That he had a plan. That he was winning. But right now he's not sure what to do. Sid is still out there.
So far Sid doesn't know Mike's alive, but it's only a matter of time before he figures it out, or until he does something to attack the house. Until he attacks her. Even though the practical part of Mike knows Briggs broke the law and should be in jail, with Sid still at large, Mike would have preferred having Briggs in the house. Maybe he could protect them if Mike couldn't. The truth is Mike has no clue what to do next and he's struggling just to survive, worried every day someone else might pay for his sins.
Paige walks across the room and kneels down on the floor where the blanket is. She looks up at him invitingly and he tries to burn the image into his brain. He picks his shirt up off of the floor, and rolls it up in a ball for a makeshift pillow for her.
"Here. I'm sorry, it's not more comfortable." He looks around the room for anything that might be clean enough to touch her skin.
She tucks the shirt behind her head and holds out her hand for him to join her. He takes off his shoes, and cautiously lies down next to her on the floor. He hasn't felt this nervous around Paige since he came home from the hospital after she called him a rat. She notices his nerves and puts her fingers through his belt loops, dragging him on top of her.
"Now I'm comfortable." She purrs once his weight settles on top of her.
"Really?" He asks, looking down cautiously at the beautiful woman underneath him.
He doesn't deserve her. When he returned to Graceland, when he was so certain he was going to shut down the buses and win, he thought maybe he was worthy of her. He felt like a rockstar. Felt confident. Felt like her equal. But now, after he's messed up time and time again... Lost her trust. Put her in danger. Failed. How could she still want him like this?
"Perfect." She purrs before brushing her lips over his.
He allows himself to get lost in her kisses. The small room that's seemed like hell for so many weeks suddenly feels like their own little haven away from the harsh reality of the world.
In the moonlight, the two lovers become reacquainted, softly touching and kissing while slowly removing each other's clothing until there are no barriers left between them. In the cool night air, there is nothing but a thin layer of cloth over both their bodies warming each other. Hours pass unnoticed by the two, until finally Mike's head emerges from under the blanket to kiss Paige sweetly after he's sure he's brought her to a contented afterglow.
"I love this shade of pink." he murmurs as he lies next to her, skimming his finger across the blush that has spread across her chest from the climax Mike brought her to. "It's my favorite color on you."
"You've taken your time tonight." She smiles at him knowingly. The hours of foreplay have been wonderful, but Paige aches for something more. She needs to be joined with him again. To see the way he looks at her when he's above her. Around her. Inside her.
"I don't want tonight to end." He admits, kissing her collarbone.
"It doesn't have to."
"Paige..." Mike sighs. This night has to end. It should have never begun. It's a moment Mike stole that he's sure he'll have to pay for later.
"Mike, I can't wait any longer." Paige says softly, trying to pull him closer.
At the club things had escalated so quickly. The heat had ignited and had they not been interrupted Paige is certain she would have been fucking Mike in that alleyway before the second song was finished. Here at the warehouse however, Mike has been unbelievably patient and controlled. Paige is ready for more. She's never had the same level of patience as Mike.
"I don't have protection." He admits softly to her, running a finger up her arm.
This would have to be enough for him. Lying beside her, with soft words, kisses and touches. He doesn't need anything more. This is already more than he deserves. This stolen night with her. Her forgiveness.
"It's ok." She assures him, encouraging him on top of her. "I want you."
Mike ponders her meaning as she brings him to settle between her legs. He wonders if she means she already has taken care of it, or if she wants to risk it with him. For a moment he thinks about that possible future. Her carrying his child. He wonders whether he would be there at her side or still in hiding. In jail. Dead. His mind begins to race with how bleak things seem for their future, but then he's inside of her and all his thoughts melt into colors and the soft sigh escaping her lips turns to music in his ear.
They make love for the first time in months. Possibly for the first time ever, because Mike never remembers it being like this. Sex with her before was a lot of things. It was hot and playful. Dirty and sweet. It was always amazing, but it had never been like this. Tonight it was intense and beautiful with just a touch of sadness.
The two rock together on the dirty floor, wrapped in a blanket, finding a momentary reprieve from the outside world in each others bodies. Mike trembles in her arms, all his defenses down for her. He's weak, vulnerable and ashamed but gives her whatever strength he has left. She lets him back into her life, back into her body and soul, and he would have given up his life long ago if he knew that was the path to her forgiveness.
Only hours later, when the sun is shining through the boarded up windows and they are both sated and spent, does Paige drift off to sleep in Mike's arm's. Mike stays awake, watching her, unwilling to sacrifice a second of this dream to sleep.