Burying Nate had been for the best, Ava knew. Even though the wound in her heart, scabbed over by more than a year of mourning since her escape from the Vault, had been made to bleed anew by the burial, the hole where Nate had been seemed to get smaller by the day, and she was healing. The guilt she had felt over wanting to be with Danse had slowly ebbed away as the weeks passed, leaving only a yearning for his presence, his touch, and his affection. But she worried about him, something she hadn't done in a long time. He had grown colder and more distant since she had buried her husband, reminding her of the way he had been before he had come to her for the first time. It seemed as if years had passed since then. It was not difficult to know why he had returned to silence and sullenness: the jealousy and guilt she had seen in his eyes that day were still fresh in her mind, and she had no doubt they ate at him, too, day and night.
But perhaps it was time for him to let go, as she had, so that they could move on, together. She had made her choice. Now, he had to make his.
Midnight had long since come and gone when she slipped out of her room to knock on Danse's door. She might have thought him asleep if not for the light that still filtered under his door from the inside. Pushing open the door at his invitation, she saw him bent over his gun, inspecting every inch of it, the flickering lamp on the corner of the desk the only source of light in the room. He almost seemed surprised to see her there when he raised his head, but he disguised it quickly with a smile that was not as cold as it could have been.
"Hey," she whispered, slipping inside and closing the door behind her.
"Hey there," he said quietly as he turned to face her, his eyes following her as she came closer, stopping a few steps away from him. His smile did not fade, but she saw his posture stiffen, the change so slight she might not have noticed had she not been watching for it. He folded his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the edge of his desk.
"I came to talk," she said. She could feel her courage leaving her even as the words left her mouth, but she could not go back now. "About Nate."
Her bluntness took him by surprise. It was plain to see in his face, and in the way his arms fell limply to his sides, though he was quick to shove his hands in the pockets of the jeans he wore. She saw it again in his eyes before he could look away; a white-hot flash of jealousy, and the wave of guilt and shame that immediately followed, smothering the flame of envy before it could take a life of its own. It was hell, seeing him like this, the tension in the line of his shoulders making him seem ready to snap at the slightest touch, but it only strengthened her desire to help him see what might lie ahead, instead of back.
"I – Matters of the heart are not – " he stammered.
"We need to talk about Nate," she repeated, coming closer still until she could touch his arm. Her touch was feather-light, and she feared he might pull away. But way he leaned into her touch made her think that this might not be so hard after all. "And about you."
He tried to pull away at that, as she thought he might, but she followed him, one hand on his arm while the other came up to cradle his cheek, making him look at her, and he did not shake her off, though he could easily have.
"There's nothing to talk about," he said gruffly. His arms unwound themselves from his chest to hang idly at his sides.
"There's plenty," she shot back. She took his face in both her hands, drawing him to his feet and against her. She felt his fingers hovering near her waist, as if he dared not touch her. After half a heartbeat, she could feel his hands settling where they belonged, and she allowed herself a smile.
"Nate is gone," she began quietly. She watched him watch her smile and speak. He seemed wary still. "I've known that for a long time now. I'll always love him, and I'll never forget him, but I need to move on. Because I want to be with you, Danse." She kissed his cheek, his nose, his forehead. He closed his eyes, listening intently to her every word. "I've mourned him for more than a year. I'm ready for a new life. And I want it to be with you. Do you… want that too?"
His eyes snapped open, meeting hers. There was something desperate there, she thought.
"More than anything," he said firmly, and every fibre of her being sang with joy. She let her thumbs brush over his cheekbones, and his grip on her tightened.
"Then what are we waiting for?" she breathed, as quietly as she dared.
Silence reigned between them for a long while, the room so still that the fluttering of a moth's wing could have been heard. She waited patiently for an answer, and when it came, it was no more than a whisper.
"You know that I'm a…"
She already knew what he was going to say. She enveloped him in her arms, and for a moment he felt as small as a child against her.
"A synth? You already know I don't care about that. To me, you're perfect as you are."
"Back there… Back then… in the cemetery…" There it was. The guilt. The shame. Laid bare for her to see. She rubbed delicate circles on his shoulders as his words came, slowly, haltingly. She did not rush him. "When you spoke of your husband… Nate… I was… I felt…" She felt him breathe deep, his chest swelling against hers. She simply waited. She knew he had never been one for words. "I felt jealous. Of a dead man. To my eternal shame, I wanted him to disappear. From your life. And mine. It was foolish, and dishonorable, and – "
"I know what I saw," she answered. "And I understand. I forgive you. It won't change my mind."
Silence again. She breathed in the scent of him, warm and familiar. Home.
"I just don't want you to regret this," he finally said, though when she looked up at him she could see the last of his resistance melting away. Just a little push, she thought. Just a little more.
"I could never regret you."
The last word had barely left her lips when his hand cradled her head to bring her mouth to his for a deep, heated kiss, and she could not help but sigh in his mouth as she threw her arms around his neck. She had never felt so warm, so safe.
"Perfect," he whispered between kisses, as a fire inside her roared to life. "Like you."
He was molten against her, setting her aflame as he held her tight, and as she let herself burn at the pyre that he was she felt bolder than she had in years. She pushed against his chest until she felt him bump into the desk behind him, grounding against him as she let her hands wander down to his chest. While one hand went to the small of his back, the other snaked lower before she broke away from his mouth, slowly sinking to her knees. She felt him catch her wrist then, and she looked up at him. There was an unmistakable heat to his eyes that made sparks run up her spine.
"What are you doing?" he breathed, leaning down to draw her back to her feet.
"Let me do this," she answered, bringing her free hand to rest on his thigh. The shiver she felt coursing through him when she brushed her thumb against the front of his jeans made her tremble with excitement, and he stopped his motion. "Let me do this. For you."
She saw the telltale flash of desire in his gaze, and his grip on her wrist loosened, though not enough that she could shake free.
"You don't have to," he whispered.
"I want to," she replied, and after the longest of heartbeat, he gave in.
It had been years since Ava had done anything of the sort, but her fingers seemed to have a mind of their own as they ran up and down his thighs before going to the hem of his shirt, slowly pulling it over his head, his skin almost too hot to touch as she pressed kiss after kiss to every inch of skin that was revealed to her. When his chest was bare, she captured his mouth for a kiss, throwing the shirt aside carelessly to allow her fingers to roam over his ribs.
"Ava…"
The way he said her name shook her to her very core, and she left his mouth to trail kisses down his neck. Tendrils of wildfire unfurled through her as she made her way lower, and lower still, until she was on her knees again, and all she knew was that she wanted to make him say her name over and over and over and over again.
Her mouth was hovering above the button of his jeans now, her hands stroking the insides of his thighs idly, and she could see him, hard already beneath the fabric, begging to be released. A fevered flash of brown met her gaze when she glanced up at him, and the hard set of his jaw made heat pool in her belly. Every ounce of self-control he had seemed to be focused on holding him still for her, wrangling the instinct that screamed for him to take what he wanted. She ghosted a kiss to the front of his jeans, and heard him groan above her, low and quiet, his hands trembling and gripping the edge of the desk tighter as his body tensed.
"Ava."
Her body thrummed with the pleasure of her name on his tongue as she placed a hand against him, applying just enough pressure to draw a smothered moan from him, his hips rolling up into her touch slowly as he closed his eyes. She would have done the same had she not wanted to keep the sight of him etched into her memory.
"Please…"
She sat back on her heels then, and his eyes snapped open to look at her, dazed, but as her hands began to unbutton her blouse, slowly revealing herself to him, she heard a warm groan trickle from his lips. When it fell away, revealing her clean, white bra, she gazed up at him from beneath her lashes, almost shy. Never before had he seemed so intent and focused than in that moment, and it made her blood sing to see him so. Suddenly he leaned down toward her, his control finally snapping as he drew her to her feet, pressing her against him for a searing kiss, one hand staying at the small of her back while the other crept higher and higher up her back, until he was at the clasp of her bra. Only then did he pull away, nuzzling against the curve of her shoulder.
"May I?" he whispered against her neck, and she could only nod, so dry was her mouth. Slowly, lovingly, he pullede the straps first down one shoulder, then the other, before he unclasped it, and tore it away, baring her to him. The whisper of cloth on skin was all she could hear as she allowed him to undress her, and then he was looking at her, taking her in as if she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. His hands slowly smoothed down her back and up again, unhindered, before he let his lips trail from her shoulder to her breasts, his breath raising goosebumps in its wake. He peppered light kisses wherever he could, and it was her turn to moan quietly. He looked at her again then, and smiled.
"Beautiful," he whispered, and he captured her mouth once more, keeping her against him. But she wanted nothing more than to feel him. Her hands were at his waist in a flash, working quickly to free him from the confines of his faded jeans, and she heard him hiss at the feeling of the cold night air on his heated flesh when he was freed. As she wrapped a moon-pale hand around his hard length, his hiss turned into a growl, and then a moan when she squeezed slightly. The heat of him sent a wave of excitement rolling through her, and the way he thrust in her hand before he could still his hips set her heart to racing. Finally, she sank to her knees again, and looked up at him.
"Show me what you like, Danse," she breathed, meeting his gaze. His eyes strayed to the fingers she had wrapped around him for a moment before flickering back to her, and she felt his hand wrap around hers. He tightened her grip a little more, and she saw his jaw shifting as he gave a first stroke, then a second, smothering the long moan that would have filled his room otherwise as she took it upon herself to stroke his length a third, fourth, fifth time. He held her gaze as they worked together, up, down, then up again, until she saw his eyes flutter closed, his breath coming in pants and gasps now. Only then did she lower her head to lay a kiss on the tip of him, followed by a swipe of her tongue. His strokes faltered and stopped, his hand falling to his side as she took over, taking more and more of him in her mouth. She heard him groan above her, and she answered with a moan of her own, his hips bucking at the sound as he laid a hand on her head, keeping her in place. One of her hands stroked the length that her mouth could not reach while the other rested on his thigh, the muscles underneath coiled so tight she thought they might snap.
"Ava… You are – " she could hear from the strain in his voice that he was close. She wanted nothing more than to feel him come apart in her hand. She took him as far as she could, obtaining an unintelligible jumble of words for her trouble. She did it again.
She could feel his need pulsing hot in her hand, the primal desire of driving himself as deep as he could in her throat. But even in times like these, his control was exemplary. She could feel her own heat between her legs as his climax approached, though she resisted the urge to give herself release. She felt his grip in her hair tighten, the fist at his side tightening until it shook. "Ava – I – "
The words came to her, sudden and unbidden, bursting from her lips before she could stop them, her mouth leaving him. Truth.
"I'm yours, Danse."
The fingers in her hair trembled before they reached down to cradle her cheek, threading through her dark tresses as softly as the wind, and his hips bucked into her hand as she looked up at him. She thought she had never seen anything so beautiful as his tongue darting out to lick his lips, and his eyes becoming as bright as a moon as he met her gaze.
"Mine." Suddenly he drew her to her feet again, kissing her hard, lifting her off her feet and against him until she could surround his waist with her legs. Her hand was still on him, trapped between their bodies, tight and good and as warm as the summer sun, wrenching a primal growl from him with every stroke. "Mine."
He buried his face in the crook of her neck as his hands gripped the undersides of her thighs so tight she knew she would bruise, though she could not care less as she raced with him toward his peak, burying her face in his hair, kissing the shell of his ear as she stroked harder, faster, and he was bucking into her hand without restraint now, growling and groaning, and in between whispering her name, her name, over and over and over until finally she felt him give one last thrust, and his seed spilled over her hand, painting his stomach and hers in thick white ropes. She raked the fingers of one hand through his hair as he shuddered and writhed beneath her before he finally stilled, spent. They stayed as they were for a long time while he slowly regained his senses, and she kissed his cheek all the while, unhurried. Finally she felt him move beneath her and he pulled away to meet her gaze, the adoring gleam she saw in his eyes making her blush.
He kissed her lips chastely, heaving a shuddering sigh as he nuzzled at her hair, keeping her tight against him still.
"Mine," he murmured, and the hint of disbelief she could hear in his voice made her smile. She turned her head so she could kiss his cheek.
"Yours," she answered. "For as long as you'll have me."
