It's been over a year! I can't believe it. I really can't. Everything's racing by so fast. Since that last update I've tried coming back to this story but it's never quite happened, until today when I wrote more than I have in ages! I think a part of that is down to Nanou, you reminded me that this story needs serious attention. And I love writing it too.
I've changed the rating because there's swearing and it all gets a bit blue at the end. I hope you still enjoy though.
...
Nathan smoothes a hand over his hair and pulls his most charming grin to his lips. He knows that she'll see right through it like she always does but he also knows that she'll cave in to the sweet look he's putting on and all will be forgiven. With a deep breath, he lets himself into the gallery.
She hears him come in, even over the loud angsty music she's playing. If she's honest – which she won't be with him – she's been listening out for his sheepish footsteps for the last two hours or so. Even though she's been waiting and she's pleased that he's finally there, she doesn't so much as look up from the wall she's painting.
"Delivery for Peyton Sawyer, hottest guy in the whole of Charlotte, hell, maybe the entire state." Nathan throws his kitbag down on the floor and crosses the room. Peyton's there, staring stubbornly at the wall like it's the most interesting thing in the world. "Come on, Babe."
His hands encircle her waist as his lips serenade her neck. She tuts and swivels in his hold so that they're face to face. Nathan can't help but notice how dangerously close the dripping roller in her hand is to his shirt. Paint doesn't wash out easily. He knows because she's ruined so many of his shirts before. Somehow though she always manages to convince him that his clothes are better to paint in, he blames her legs, they always wear his shirts so damn well.
"Place looks great." Nathan figures that opening with a compliment is a strong start in his quest to make her less mad.
Her eyes narrow as she stares at him, "Do I know you?"
He clutches a hand to his heart, "That's really cold."
"You do look familiar." She shrugs, "Oh yeah, I remember who you remind me of. I used to have this boyfriend – fiancé actually – but he shacked up with his basketball every night, for all I know they eloped and got married."
"Lucky guy." Nathan smirks. He can't help himself from teasing.
In response Peyton glares daggers and then flicks paint over his shirt, knowing that it'll irritate the hell out of him.
Nathan sets his jaw, "You know, I used to have a girlfriend just like you,"
"Girlfriend?" Peyton pushes back, waving to him with her left hand.
The slightest of blushes rises in his cheeks, "Fiancée. I used to have a fiancée like you."
"How did she escape?" Peyton asks, a small smile forming over her lips.
"Haha," Nathan mock laughs, "She ruined all of my clothes with her dumb paint."
Peyton shrugs, "Sounds to me like she just wanted you to take your shirt off."
Nathan snorts and complies with her suggestion; he's never taken much persuading when it comes to her requests to see more of him. "I'm sorry I'm late."
"You bet your ass, you are." She returns, holding a paint brush out to him, "I saved the horrible bits for you."
"Gee thanks." He says, pulling a face but they both know it's only for show. He obediently begins to paint the bare section of wall before Peyton even has the chance to berate him about it.
For a moment Peyton just observes the sight before her. It's not as though it's a bad thing to look at; her man, shirtless and working up a sweat.
"See something you like?" Nathan shoots at her, noticing that she has that certain look in her eye.
Quickly Peyton clears her expression, she's still a little mad that he didn't even call to tell her he'd be so late. "You missed a bit."
He shakes his head as she points to the large white section that he hasn't got to yet.
"You know," He begins cautiously, dropping the paintbrush back into the tin, "All of this red paint; red walls; artwork in every direction…"
His hands settle over her hips and she doesn't push him away. She just smiles a little and raises her eyebrows, "Keep going,"
"Kind of reminds me of when we were younger, at the start of us, being a couple." He continues, pressing his lips to her earlobe, "Your red bedroom, those cheer bloomers on the bed post, that night after we won State."
Peyton can't help but agree, "You were incredible that night."
"On the court or in the bedroom?" He asks.
She slaps him on the shoulder, before sighing, "Both, I guess."
She can feel his smile against her skin. The conceited idiot.
"It reminds me of all that too." Peyton agrees wistfully, "Do you remember painting that room red?"
A coy smile covers Nathan's lips, "What for real, or metaphorically?"
Peyton arches her brow, "Metaphorically? That's a big word."
"Hey," He protests quickly, "I know big words, okay?"
She stifles a laugh and nods softly, "I know you do, Baby. And I remember both the ways we painted that room red. We've painted most rooms red that we've been in actually. I meant the painting party actually."
"That was a party?" He throws back questioningly, "I don't mean to be horrible or anything but no one came."
Peyton just hums lightly, "You did. It doesn't have to be a room full of people to be a party."
They'd been about fourteen, Peyton supposes. Around that age in any case. She tends to remember things using the measure of whether she and Nathan were a couple at that point in time or not. She remembers that when they painted her room they were just friends.
Her Dad was away on a job, it was summer and she was bored. Plus she'd found a pot of the most perfect crimson paint in the garage. A red room seemed like a cool idea.
"You wore cut off dungarees." Nathan recollects, smiling softly, "Your hair was braided and you had paint over your eyebrow. Right there."
He swipes a finger of red paint in a streak over her brow as she laughs, "I called you Tom Sawyer and said if you were lucky I'd let you help me, and if you were really lucky I'd let you pay to help me."
Nathan rolls his eyes, "Yeah and I totally didn't get it. I thought you were just being difficult about your precious room and me messing it up."
"Well, that too." Peyton shrugs, "But if you were literate you may have understood the reference."
"I just kind of wondered why you called me Tom." Nathan admits.
Peyton laughs her rolling amused giggle and throws her head back, her curls falling down her back.
Nathan can't help but smile at her tickling laughter, even though it's at his expense. "Alright, Huckleberry, I know now."
"I know." Peyton leans up on her toes and kisses at his lips, "So where have you been, anyway?"
Nathan smirks a little, in a way that she knows to mean that he's done something he maybe shouldn't have. "Just training, Babe."
Her eyelids flutter both adoringly and reproachfully, "You've trained your whole life, Nate. I don't want to lose you to that gym."
"You're not." Nathan assures, "I just lost track of time."
Peyton presses her hands to his upper arms and squeezes as though holding onto him, "Did you have a good session?"
"It was great." Nathan nods, "Now, let me tell you off for spending your whole day inhaling paint fumes."
"Ah," Peyton holds up her finger, her eyes dancing, "Actually, I've only spent half the day painting."
He looks surprised, "I've never known you to be tempted away from painting the walls. Just last month I came home and you were repainting the kitchen. I came back out naked and you didn't even blink."
Peyton smirks knowingly, "I just wanted to show you that I was right about the grey paint."
"You were." Nathan assures, resting his forehead against hers, "You always are."
"And I so made that up to you." Peyton reminds, resting her hands over his chest.
Nathan shrugs in defeat, "I suppose you did. But what happened today, then?"
Peyton's eyes sparkle causing Nathan to quirk a questioning brow. He's not sure he's going to like where this is going.
"I had a phone call," Peyton begins, "From Brooke Davis."
Nathan's frown deepens, "What did she want?"
Peyton knows how to work him. Her hands tickle all over her torso as her eyelashes flurry and her lips pout. She lifts onto her toes, lengthening her legs further and shakes her wild curls a little. "She's organising a school reunion,"
Instantly Nathan's body wilts in her arms. The last thing he wants to do is meet up with his old school friends to hear about them moan about their jobs, their kids and their wives. It's all they ever do whenever he speaks to one of them, and he doesn't think he could handle a whole night of multiple stories.
"Babe, come on, it could be fun." Peyton whines, her gorgeous green eyes begging to him.
He groans, "It could be awful."
Her lips twist as she rethinks her tactics, "What about for me? I'd love to see everyone again. Plus you could catch up with Lucas, Skills, Jake, Zach…Tim,"
"That's a reason to not go." Nathan points out, "Did you see the last email Tim sent me?"
Peyton snorts with laughter, "Yeah, I did. Baby Nathan looks more and more like Tim everyday."
Nathan rolls his eyes at the reminder that his old school friend named his son after him. "Poor kid."
"I really want to go, Nathan." She pleads.
"You really do?" He questions. She hasn't exactly mentioned meeting up with the girls and it's not like Tree Hill's a million miles away; she could see them any time.
She bites down on her lower lip, "I really do."
He exhales a long breath, "Well okay; but you know you owe me, right?"
Her lips break into a wide smile, "It's a good thing I know what you like then."
…
Nathan sighs, drops the remote control and throws his head back on the couch. They've been home for a little over an hour and Peyton's been on the phone to Brooke for the majority of that time. He's sure that she promised him some kind of awesome bedroom time, when they'd rushed from the gallery back home, he hadn't had this in mind.
"Babe!" He calls through the apartment, desperately.
He sees her pad to the open door of the bedroom and holds her finger up to him, telling him to wait a moment. Then she disappears again.
Nathan sighs and stands from the couch and grabs his wallet from the counter. He peeks his head around the bedroom door and waves to catch Peyton's attention. "I'll go grab dinner."
Peyton looks to him guiltily, "I won't be long."
He chuckles in response and shakes his head, before pressing a short kiss to her cheek, "I'll be back in ten."
She watches him leave and then goes back to her conversation. "Sorry, Nate came in."
Brooke laughs from her end of the line, "He didn't hear anything did he?"
"Blissfully unaware." Peyton assures, grinning from ear to ear. "He's just gone to get dinner so I should probably get going."
"Okay." Brooke agrees, "I'm so excited, Peyton!"
"Me too." Peyton gushes, "I'll call you tomorrow, from the gallery when Nate's training."
…
Nathan's still not convinced of the idea of a school reunion two weeks later when they're packed for Tree Hill, sailing down the highway and approaching the town they called home when they were kids.
"There are plenty of better things we could do in Tree Hill you know?" Nathan tries to reason, as he changes lanes.
Peyton smiles across at him, there's something about seeing Nathan drive her Mercury Comet that makes her weak. She knows it's about the last car on earth that he'd choose for himself, but he looks so incredibly cool driving it that she insists on it sometimes. "Like what? Play ball at the rivercourt?"
"That," Nathan points to her, "Is not a half bad suggestion. And if you want to wear that old cheerleading outfit that I know is still bundled in your closet at your Dad's, I would not complain a bit."
Peyton wrinkles her nose, "We haven't worn out the jock and the cheerleader thing?"
"Never." He assures grinning.
"Well we're going to the reunion. I promised Brooke and I bought a nice dress." Peyton says defiantly and Nathan already knows he's lost.
"That dress had better be short." He growls back. It's about the only thing he can see as being good about this damn party that Brooke Davis is throwing.
She laughs, and behind her aviator shades, he knows that her eyes are sparkling, relishing somewhat in his torment. "It's short, baby, I promise."
"Good." He settles, taking the road for Tree Hill.
As they pass by the sign for the small town, Peyton beams. They don't get to Tree Hill as often as they would perhaps like. It's a place of good memories they shared together as kids; bad ones too, but mostly good. Everywhere she looks, she's reminded of their youth spent together.
"You okay?" Nathan asks from beside her, reaching his arm out for her to fall into. He brushes his thumb rhythmically over her shoulder. His eyes cast a steady gaze over her. He knows that as much as she's excited to come home; to see her Dad and her friends, it will always be the place that took her Mom away from her.
She nods assertively, "Yeah. I'm fine."
But she nestles into his chest and wraps her arms around his chest. She doesn't want to talk about that right now, and he gets it. So he loses his fingers in her hair and points out places they made out (there are a lot) and it makes her laugh. A lot.
Eventually, after the long trip, they pull up outside Peyton's childhood home. It looks the same as ever. Larry's on the porch, smiling back at them. He sets down his newspaper and coffee and jogs down the porch steps to greet them.
"Dad! Hi!" Peyton hurries from the car and wraps her arms around her father. Both of them hold on a little tighter than most.
"It's good to see you, kiddo." He says when they finally pull apart. "Really good."
She beams back as Nathan steps forward, his hand extended to his future father-in-law, "Mr Sawyer."
Larry shakes his head and pulls Nathan into a quick hug. "I think we've known each other long enough, you're already a part of my family, Nathan."
"Thank you." Nathan nods. Lord knows his father is far from the embracing loving type. He indicates to the trunk as father and daughter begin catching up.
He leaves them to it and gathers all of their luggage to take up to their room. Usually they're light packers, but for some reason, for this trip, Peyton insisted on him taking his best suit and her dress in zip-lock bags, along with separate boxes for their shoes, as well as the usual essentials in a couple of holdalls. Anyone would think he's travelling with a girl.
When he enters the house, he can hear Larry and Peyton laughing in the kitchen. And maybe now he's not feeling so resentful about this trip, because hearing that sound may have just made it all worth it.
He pads up the stairs and goes to the familiar front bedroom that he's frequented on many occasions. It's still crimson red, and he would be a little mad if Larry decided to ever change it. The place holds a ridiculous amount of memories for him. Teenage Peyton was unpredictable, difficult at times, wild, and intoxicating to be around. She's still all of those things, but back then she was perhaps a little more unpredictable, more difficult, certainly wilder but equally as intoxicating. This room reminds him of each and every one of the reasons why he loves her.
He spends some time looking over her old artwork still tacked to the walls. Her work amazes him, sincerely. He's seen a lot of it, and it still astounds him. The way she manages to capture all sorts of emotions, is the thing that really gets him. He couldn't even describe them, let alone draw them.
"Like what you see?" Peyton asks. She's stood in the doorway, her arms folded and her knee bent, her foot rested against the frame.
He smirks back at her, it should be surreal and perhaps a bit weird, but it isn't. "You bet, especially those cheer bloomers. Kind of kinky that you still have them."
"I do not!" She cries and steps forward to slap him and kiss him.
"Mmm." He smirks, "You know that being in this room makes be feel like a teenager again."
"I had got that impression." She confirms, laughing. "Well, my Dad has run out to the store."
"That settles it." He declares, lifting her and throwing her down on the bed.
…
A few hours later and Nathan's no longer enjoying Tree Hill. He's in her room, tying his tie and wishing that they didn't have to go out and be sociable to a bunch of people he barely remembers, for the most part.
Peyton's been locked in the bathroom for the past half an hour, which is a little weird; she's not that girl. He sighs and taps on the door.
"Yeah?" She calls back, sounding absolutely nowhere near ready. They're going to be late, but he doesn't mind that so much.
"I'll be downstairs." He tells her, hoping that Larry has some beers in that fridge.
Luckily the older man does. When Nathan walks into the kitchen, Larry's already uncapping two.
"She was like this at Prom you know." He says through a slight chuckle, "Would you believe?"
"She was?" Nathan was her date, obviously, but he didn't know that. When he'd turned up at her house, she'd been upstairs getting ready but he'd assumed that in typical Peyton Sawyer fashion she'd probably spent most of that time sketching or searching for a suitable pre-prom playlist. God knows she'd complained about the DJ set and the band when they were there.
"I think that her and Brooke started preparations about lunchtime." Larry reveals, "And no, I don't get it either."
Nathan laughs and sips his beer. Peyton taking hours to get ready is of course a completely unnecessary venture. She doesn't need to try. Ever.
"Peyton showed me pictures of the gallery; it was a really nice gift, Nate." Larry compliments. He genuinely likes Nathan, at one point, when he was cradling his newborn baby girl at the hospital, he was sure that no guy would ever be good enough for her. But he can see that Nathan is.
Shaking his head, Nathan grins, "You should have seen the look on her face. She had no idea."
"That sounds dangerous." Larry remarks, knowing how his daughter can be with surprises.
"You're telling me." Nathan agrees. "It's been so tough on her, and she's just been incredible, through my injury and the struggle to get to the NBA. I wanted to give her something to say that it's not all about me, and to say thank you."
Larry nods, "You're a fine young man."
Nathan takes the praise graciously, a small part of him wishing that those words had come from his own father. He tips back his bottle again and gulps at the beer, then stills when he feels another presence in the room.
Both men turn, their eyes both falling over the shyly smiling blonde lingering in the hall.
"Get in here," Larry instructs, "We wanna tell you how beautiful you are."
She clicks into the room and Nathan marvels at the sight of her, from her heeled feet to head. She's in some incredible shoes, all stiletto heels and dark navy ribbon. They're a work of art in their selves. As promised, her dress is short. It's slinky and tight in all the right places, and splays out at the hem, a few inches above her knees. And best of all, it's Raven blue. Her hair's in loose curls, just as he loves and her eyes are alight with excitement.
"You look gorgeous." He manages in a breathy tone, "And I love the colour."
Her features soften from nervous to thrilled, "You noticed!"
"Babe, of course I did." He assures and pulls her forward to kiss her.
"You kids have a good night." Larry says as they pull away. "Have her home by midnight."
His eyes crinkle at the corners as he laughs, both Nathan and Peyton know that he's joking. Peyton kisses her Dad goodbye and they head out to the Comet, Nathan even holds the door open for her.
"Last chance," He offers, "We can go anywhere you like."
Peyton rolls her eyes, "Nice try."
…
Peyton seems nervous, Nathan can't help from notice. It's so unlike her. Her foot's tapping in the footwell and her nails are tapping at the screen of her cell phone. Even the CD Nathan put on for her, one of the mixes he'd found in her room earlier, hasn't calmed her.
He pulls into the lot of Tree Hill High, cuts the engine and looks over to her heavily, "Okay, Sawyer, what's going on?"
Her eyes fly to him, surprised, "What? Nothing. I promise. Shall we go?"
She's out of the car before he can get the door for her this time. She does let him slip his arm around her back though as they approach the gym that was once a second home to Nathan.
When they're outside the door, Peyton takes a cool breath and Nathan frowns down at her. He's about to question her, when she pushes the door open and Nathan's words are interrupted by the sound of applause.
He looks to the crowd in front of him, clapping madly at their appearance and then back at his girl. She's biting down on her lip, her eyes shining madly back at him.
"Peyt, what, I mean…what is this?" He asks, confused.
She laughs, "It's all for you, Nate. This isn't a school reunion, it's a party to celebrate you making it."
He splutters some kind of laugh out and then turns back to her, "You."
"Yeah, and it was so worth it." She smiles back, her smile as wide as he's ever seen it.
Coach Durham steps forward, his hand outstretched to grasp Nathan's. "Well done, son. We were all rooting for you."
Finally Nathan's shock resides a little and he grins, allowing himself to be pulled into the sea of congratulating faces.
Peyton lingers back a little and watches on proudly.
"It went good, huh?" Brooke Davis sidles up beside her. "I told you I had it all covered this end."
"You did." Peyton smiles, "Now I need a drink!"
Brooke laughs and loops her arm through the blonde's, "That, I can definitely do."
She guides them to the bar and clicks to the tender whom she has clearly become acquainted with. Quickly the girls are presented with two full glasses, and a cheeky wink for Brooke.
"We thought that we'd do the speech pretty soon." Brooke says, "Then we can all get on with partying. Mouth has a set ready, and along with your Dad - who is still a total DILF by the way - we've got what we hope is some music that you approve of."
Peyton smiles, "I don't think anything could make this night bad."
She turns, and collides slightly with another body. She goes to apologise and meets the gaze of none other than Dan Scott.
"Mr Scott."
"Miss Sawyer." He nods curtly and sips at his whiskey. Thankfully, Deb's there to save this situation.
"Peyton! Everything's wonderful, look at out boy!" The group all look to Nathan who is amongst his old Ravens team mates, still smiling. "Everyone's so proud of him. The whole town's been talking about him making the NBA."
"He deserves it." Peyton says simply. Deb and Brooke nod, but Dan says nothing.
Finally, after an awkward silence, Deb ushers Dan over to speak to another couple. Peyton lets out a small sigh of relief.
"That's Nathan's Dad?" Brooke questions, to which Peyton nods. "He could at least pretend to be happy for his son! He's a celebrity in Tree Hill now!"
"That's Dan Scott." Peyton shrugs. "The truth of it is, I think he's a little jealous."
"Of his son?" Brooke asks.
Tilting her head, Peyton sighs, "A little, perhaps more the fact that Nathan got there by himself in the end. I think that's what stung."
Brooke nods, "Right, I just saw your Dad get here, I'll let Whitey know it's almost time."
She dashes away and Peyton goes to greet her Dad who had to quickly change and rush over here after they left. "Dad, hey!"
"How was the big reveal?" He asks.
"Better than I imagined it." Peyton waves to the bar tender and orders a drink for her Dad and Nathan, "Whitey's about to say his piece."
Larry's eyes are on the dark haired man who's centre of attention for the night, "You didn't want to say anything? You organised this whole thing, Peyton."
"No." She says firmly, "I think I've already told him how proud I am enough times, and I'm sure I will do plenty more. This should come from the Coach."
Larry sips at his drink and glances over the rest of the room, "What about Dan? Surely-,"
He's cut off by the shaking of Peyton's head. "Don't ask. It's a miracle he's even here. God that man's an ass, he can't even be happy for Nathan."
Larry's eyes narrow, at the man in question. He doesn't understand it either. "I never liked that man."
Peyton's head turns back to her Dad, it's not often she hears such statements from him. "You didn't?"
"No." Larry confirms, "He deserted one son and then worked Nathan so hard, even when he was a little boy. I don't think he ever realised how lucky he was. Your Mom, on the other hand,"
Peyton's eyes go wide.
"She always seemed to believe that there was something beneath that exterior of Dan's." Larry says as Peyton nods, she remembers Anna saying something similar to her. "I've never witnessed it myself, but your Mom, she had a way of knowing these things."
Peyton considers those words, but can't help from wondering whether, on this particular occasion, her Mom was wrong.
"Ladies and Gentlemen!" Brooke calls from the end of the room a microphone in hand, "If you'd all like to make your way over, Coach has a few words he'd like to say."
The crowd complies, and in the movement, Peyton and Larry are reunited with Nathan. All he can say is mutterings of incredible and crazy and ridiculous, I need a drink, and Tim actually kissed me.
Peyton passes a beer over and squeezes his hand tightly. She could not be happier to be the one that did this for him.
"Hello, All." Whitey greets the room in a gravely tone. "We're all here to celebrate one of Tree Hill's own tonight. I'm sure that you all have your own stories and memories with Nathan. He certainly is a character."
The room laughs, most of them thinking back to Nathan in high school.
"When I met Nathan, he was a skinny kid entering high school. And he thought that he was the best damn athlete to ever walk into my gym! Well, what do you know, that sharp talking, cheeky kid, he may have been right."
Nathan raises his beer bottle in agreement.
"In those four years that I had him on my team, I'm not sure whether it was me running that show, or him. This boy - man, now - he breathes in basketball. If he didn't like my game plays, he didn't hesitate to tell me so. And the worst of it? He was never wrong. Sure, he was the most arrogant damn kid I've ever taught but when he got on that court, every Friday night, he brought it for the team. He broke the scoring record, and he still holds it today. It was a sorry day that he left for college, let me tell you."
Nathan nods in agreement, he was sorry to leave the Ravens too.
"He soared at college. I know, I watched everyone of his games like a proud father." Whitey winks to Nathan as Peyton presses closer to him. "There were a lot of other eyes on him too, let me tell you. And course, he was called up."
Whitey sighs then and Peyton can already feel the tears in her eyes.
"Then Nathan got in a car wreck." Whitey shakes his head, "No one was sure that he'd play again, let alone get offered another place in the NBA. But if there's one thing that kid knows, it's hard work. His whole life has been basketball, he was born into this game. So he was never going to be the type to watch that dream die. He fought back, he fought hard, and he made it. He got drafted by the Charlotte Bobcats. And today, it is my greatest pleasure to invite Nathan Scott here with me, as we retire his jersey number for the Tree Hill Ravens. The number 23, in this gym, will always be yours, Nathan."
"Jeez," Nathan breathes unsteadily, wiping the back of his hand, "This is too much."
Peyton pushes him forward, towards Whitey, tears already rolling down her cheeks.
Whitey hugs Nathan tightly and then indicates to the veiled curtain covering a spot on the wall; high and proud in the gym. "If you'd do the honours, Nathan."
Gladly, Nathan takes the cord in his hand and pulls, unveiling his jersey, the number 23 gloriously looking down at them all.
He shakes his head and looks between his nodding coach and his sobbing girl. The rest of the room is clapping, even Dan Scott, although a little reluctantly, Nathan notices. When the room stills and silence falls, he realises that it's his turn to speak.
"Wow." Nathan chuckles slightly, "I can't believe that you guys all came out here tonight for me. Because Whitey's right, I was a big-headed kid when I was here. I'm humbled, actually, because I'm pretty sure I don't deserve all of this. So thank you, really, you have no idea what it means to see you all here tonight. I won't go on for long, I promise; I'm not very good at these speaking gigs."
The crowd of friends could disagree, but they just smile him on.
"I just have one more thing I have to say." His eyes find Peyton in the crowd and he winks. "There's no way I would be stood here today, if it wasn't for one person; my amazing better half, Peyton."
She blushes instantly and shakes her head stubbornly.
"She's everything. Whitey was actually wrong before, he said my whole life is basketball, but not quite. I met her when I was five years old and she's been the best part of my life ever since." Nathan raises his drink in a toast, "So, here's to you guys, to the game, my time here and to the most beautiful girl in the room."
The crowd cheers and raises their glasses.
"To Nathan." Peyton calls over the murmurs. It's his night, the toast should be about him.
"To Nathan!" The room echoes.
…
Nathan settles his hand at the base of Peyton's spine, over the material of her dark dress. Her lips curve as she brings the rim of her glass to her mouth and sips her champagne. He arches his brow suggestively and lowers his hand further, down the curve of her ass.
Leaning in towards her, his cheek brushes against her golden curls, "You look fucking hot tonight, Sawyer."
Her hand settles over the lapel of his jacket, stroking at the soft material. He looks hot in a suit, always has done, but tonight her looks phenomenal. "Not so bad yourself, Scott."
"What do you say we blow this joint?" He murmurs, her perfume catching in the air he inhales. He stands behind her slightly, so that he can wrap his arms around her waist and whisper into her ear easily.
She turns her head to him, "We can't leave, this is your party!"
He shrugs, and tickles one hand lower, down her smooth hip and towards her upper thigh, "So I can do what I want."
"Nathan," She hisses at the proximity of his hand to her knicker line, but there's laughter in her voice. "We couldn't. You should be talking to everyone; people have come out tonight to see you. What about Whitey…Keith and Karen…Skills…"
Nathan chuckles gently in her ear, "You know what, all those people would understand."
She gasps and turns to slap him playfully, "Karen wouldn't." She argues, weakly, she admits.
"She so would." Nathan counters, and he sees Peyton biting down on her lower lip. They both know that even Karen would understand. "Besides, it's my party, and I want my last present. You."
"I got you an i-pad." Peyton tells him, turning so that they're face to face, her hand on his broad shoulders. She smiles up at him, her eyes dancing contentedly.
He hangs his head, "And I love it, babe, I do. But I love you more."
"Oh, you're good," Peyton drawls, slipping her arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips. She closes her eyes and spreads her fingers though his hair, grazing her thumbs against his earlobes.
Nathan slides one of his hands beneath the veil of her curling hair and under the strap of her blue dress. His fingers glide over her bra strap and massage at her shoulder blade.
Peyton moans into the kiss, her lips parting to allow his tongue to explore her mouth. He tastes champagne on her breath and warmth in her mouth. His tongue meets hers and they marry in a dance, jostling and urging. Their bodies press together, and Peyton works at untying the knot of Nathan's tie.
They break apart, slowly, reluctantly and solely through fear of their guests being spectators for too long a show.
"Convincing argument." Peyton says, a little breathlessly.
Nathan looks to her a little smugly, "So you're ready to go to bed?"
Her lips twist, because she's not the kind of girl who likes to admit losing an argument. "I guess we could skip out."
"That's my girl." He smirks.
"Well, what other way is there to celebrate getting into the NBA?" She questions, laughing. It's not as though she's organised a really impressive black tie party and gathered their friends and family from all over the country. Nothing like that.
He shrugs, "Exactly, and it's not my fault you look so damn gorgeous."
Peyton arches her brow and empties her glass of her drink. "Are you complaining?"
"Do you really think I'm that stupid?" Nathan puts to her. He slips his fingers through hers and flicks his eyes to the door. "We can make it. It's easy."
She looks unconvinced, "Five bucks someone stops us."
"Come on." He responds, persuading her along with a tug on her hand.
She splutters a laugh as she skitters in her heels. Clearly Nathan's using speed rather than stealth to aid their exit. "Nathan!" She cries as she struggles to keep pace with her athlete boyfriend.
He slows and turns to her winking, "Oh, to hell with it, like they won't guess."
Peyton looks confused for a moment, until Nathan stops, wraps one arm around her shoulders and scoops his other beneath her legs, lifting her easily from the ground. She shrieks in surprise and a few heads turn at the spectacle.
Nathan chances a charming grin at the room, "Thanks for coming."
Then, before Peyton can berate him or apologise, they're out in the corridor, still with her in his arms.
Nathan's glad that Peyton organised the gathering at the school, having been a teenage couple there, they know a few good make out spots. He doesn't think he'd last the journey back to Larry's.
He pulls her along until he can't take it anymore, and they both crash into the boys locker room. Peyton presses hungry kisses to his neck, her tirade is only broken when she takes his tie between her teeth and pulls it free from his collar.
"I can't take it." Nathan crashes her body against the bank of lockers and pins her there with his own. She's already unbuttoning his shirt at a brisk pace, her fingertips moving feverishly over his bare chest and her lips coolly kissing him, the wetness of her tongue streaking down towards his navel.
She can feel him, being so flush against her, as his urge grows against her hip. She hooks her leg around his, letting the material of her dress gather, bunched at her pelvis. Nathan slides his hand from her ankle, up her smooth shin, over her bent knee and down her long bare thigh.
"Hold on," He murmurs, his lip caught between her teeth.
"No," She moans, "Don't stop,"
He chuckles, "No, I mean hold on,"
She does. One of her hands grips his collar and the other clutches his wide bicep. Both her feet lift from the ground and her legs wrap around his hips; he holds her easily with one hand beneath her tight ass.
"I can't believe we're going this here. Again." She says breathily.
"We could be anywhere." Nathan moans, "I can't wait, I just have to have you, now."
She answers by tugging his jacket from his shoulders, with no concern to the price of the fine tailoring. His shirt hangs unbuttoned; the soft white cotton hugs at his biceps. She kisses at his neck and drags her teeth over his ear, whispering begs and promises.
Nathan sets her back on her feet and unzips her dress. It drops to the floor leaving her in only her blue lace underwear and those killer heels. Nathan spreads his hand wide over her rib cage, his eyes flying feverishly over her exposed skin.
Peyton kinks her brow and runs her fingers slowly down his chest, down to the waistband of his pants. She crouches to unfasten his belt, flicking her glance up to him seductively every second moment. He moans, feeling his pants tighten at the feel of her delicate touch skimming over the height of his groin.
"Hang on, baby," She teases, her bra straps falling from her shoulders as she tussles with his belt.
"Come on, Peyt," He urges, his hands bunching her hair in anticipation as she kneels at his feet.
Her fingers slip beneath the waistband of his boxers and she gently eases the material from his warm body. Taking the base of his penis in one hand, she licks her lips seductively and bows her head. She greets him with a wide kiss, her tongue circling the head. She feels Nathan's fist clench her hair in his tight grasp as she bobs her head back and forward, her eyes dancing and sparkling up at him.
"Oh God," He grunts, biting down hard on his lower lip as Peyton works him the right way. She hums gently as she works, the vibrations racing from her mouth and straight up his spine. She reaches with one hand for his ass and grips on tightly, her fingernails indenting half moons in his skin, but he relishes the pain. "Fuck, that's it…Peyton, that's it."
She grins, although her mouth's a little full and increases the pressure. His shout echoes around the room and the lockers rattle as he falls back against them, euphoric. Peyton pulls out slowly, her brow arched as she uses her thumb and forefinger to wipe the corners of her mouth subtly, "So, how are you going to thank me?"
He leans his head back and exhales largely, "Anything you want."
Peyton smiles at him with her eyes and lays down on the bench in the centre of the locker rows, knowing it will drive him mad. She casts her eyes to the floor before looking back at him with a dark, hooded look. With a long controlled breath she blows her bangs out of her eyes. "We need to hit the pool."
Nathan smirks, "You look so sexy right now, you know that?"
She laughs softly, "It's kind of what I was going for. Now get over here and kiss me."
Quickly he steps forwards and complies, his hand running over her teasing skin. "The pool's a deal, but I'm not letting you get dressed again." He challenges, his voice husky in her ear.
Finding his boxers amongst the discarded heap of garments on the floor, he quickly pulls them over his hips. Peyton laughs a little at the protrusion still evident in his underwear.
"You think he's just going to drop off to sleep now? After that?" He shakes his head. "We're wide awake here."
Peyton chews happily on her lip.
"Here," Nathan passes his suit jacket to her.
Her brow puckers into a frown, "Your jacket?"
"Yep." He steals a glance her way, "I said you're not getting dressed again, I want to see your legs walk down to that pool."
She snaps her glance back to the garment in his hand. She doesn't say anything; instead she takes it from him and slips it over her shoulders. He watches as she laces one button together, looking like a bond girl as she does. He appreciates the sight of his girl; curls spilling down her back, his jacket gaping to reveal the valley of her soft breasts, and finishing just above the curve of her ass cupped by her lace knickers. And then there are her legs, spilling on almost endlessly in her soaring heels.
"You want me to wear just this?" She asks for clarification.
He laughs and kisses her hard on the lips, "I don't even need to think about my answer." He zips his pants up and reaches for his shirt, but her hand coils around his wrist.
"If I'm bearing my legs here, there's no way you're covering up that chest." Her eyes glitter and he shrugs easily, throwing his shirt and her dress over his shoulder.
He holds out his hand and she takes it, rolling her eyes at him, and at herself, she supposes.
She moves towards the door to the corridor as Nathan presses a kiss into her curls, "I would be so bored without you."
"I'll take that as a compliment." Peyton laughs as they peek their heads out of the door.
"Ready?" Nathan asks.
"Set." Peyton squeezes his hand.
"Run!" Nathan commands, pulling her out into the corridor. They skip and chase down the hall, closing their eyes as they sprint past the gym where Nathan's party is probably still being held. Nathan banks right and Peyton follows suit, teetering slightly on her stilettos.
"Nate!" She laughs as he leads her to pool.
She can't help the smile that rushes to her lips as they reach the pool area. The water glistens ice blue, reflecting crystals all around the room.
"It's beautiful." Peyton gushes.
"It's fucking sexy." Nathan corrects, kinking his brow. He pulls her towards him, so that she's flush against his bare chest. Her lips find his and they crash together, hungrily. Nathan moans into the kiss and lays his hand flat against her smooth stomach, slowly edging lower in a teasing manner. Her hands coil around his neck, soon her fingers are lost in his hair and her tongue is exploring his mouth fervently. He can tell that she's tired of waiting now.
Carefully he skims his fingers around the waistband of her underwear, tickling at her soft skin. She moans lowly, sucking on his upper lip, threatening with her teeth. Nathan grins beneath her kiss and lowers his hand between her legs. She's warm and wet.
"Come on," She drawls breathily. Her hands are grasping at his biceps; her leg 's curling around his and her lips are eating at every part of his skin that they touch.
He holds out a little longer, and then begins to massage her clitoris with his thumb and forefinger. He moves his lips to her ear, his breath warm in her ear, "I guess it's time I get wet too."
He takes his hand from her underwear and wraps his strong arm around her waist, he pulls her forwards and launches them both at the water. She screams a little in shock and then laughter bubbles from her lips. He smirks, happily, even though she can't see it.
They hit the water heavily, a splash echoing around the room. A moment later they surface, laughing together.
"You could have given me fair warning!" Peyton berates, sweeping her soaking locks back from her face and then splashing water into his face childishly.
"What fun is that?" Nathan replies, and then pushes down on her shoulders to sink them both again.
Under the water they spin in each other's embrace, smiling and kicking like they're weightless. They break the surface again, only to take in another large breath of oxygen, and then they dip in again. They undress, somehow, helping each other with clasps and ties, and then emerge locked in a kiss.
"I love you, Nathan Scott." Peyton murmurs as their lips break apart. Her legs encase his waist in a naked embrace.
He shakes his head, "Not as much as I love you right now. Not possible."
She goes to argue back; they could go back and forth all night, but he stops her with another kiss. It's long, determined and eager. He can feel her energy seeping from her kiss, her touch and the lust in her eyes. Her hips begin to rock in rhythm as she kisses him deeper.
"Ready, Baby?" He asks her, taunting her.
She rolls her bright green eyes to the ceiling, "You better rock my world, super star."
He obliges, naturally, her back against the wall of the swimming pool, his arms holding her strongly. He kisses her from forehead to navel, his head dipping above and beneath the water, his lips slipping wetly over her body. One hand massages at her breast whilst the other one traces high up her thigh. Peyton hums and murmurs under her breath as he gets to work.
"Oh God, Nathan," She cries out as he increases the pressure and pace, "Now,"
Nathan smirks, his tongue edging to the corner of his mouth in a fulfilled manner. "Done."
He enters her slowly, letting the water rush around them as he picks up the pace and begins to find his rhythm. Peyton gasps and urges as Nathan presses his face to her shoulder, she can feel him panting fiercely as he pumps harder. When he thrusts deeper, her fingernails claw at his back, but it only urges him on.
They slide a little, as their enthusiasm builds. The water trills around them, rippling at their ferocious movements, but they're almost unaware of everything around them. As Nathan feels his climax nearing, he lifts his head from where it's nuzzled in Peyton's neck. He notes the complete look of ecstasy in her eyes as they roll back to the ceiling, and he smiles. With one final burst of energy, he comes inside her and she screams out with pleasure. As he slows she's still whimpering and gasping, her hands sliding wildly over him in the water.
"Babe," Nathan begins slowly, shaking his head.
"I can't." She manages, completely breathless.
He gets it, he feels the same. As though all they want to do now is let the water hold them up, so that their muscles don't have to work anymore tonight. Lazily they embrace and let the gentle bobbing of the water keep them afloat.
Peyton arches her back inwardly slightly and propels her hips back and forth a few times as Nathan's often seen her do. He guesses that she's easing herself out of the feeling a little; as though her body's not quite ready to let go immediately.
Eventually, once the buzz has faded a little, they drift tighter into one another's arms and kiss like they did the day that Nathan proposed.
"Best party ever." Nathan declares.