AN:

Hello.

I'm a bit later with this chapter than I expected, sorry, but I'm back. Thank you for all the heartwarming reviews and encouragement! I loved you that seemed to appreciate Mike waiting for consent and not diving in while drunk. He's a sweet man. Consent is so important. I'm glad that was something you liked too. Thanks for letting me know. :)

Explicit content ahoy. I'm not so much calling it smut this time because the action is important to the plot and the emotions of the characters. A bit different from the down and dirty stuff I usually write, I hope you all won't mind.

Quick note: There's an original character introduced in this chapter named Mr. Lo and he's very much based on a man I knew in real life who was from Taiwan and one of the sweetest, wisest people I've ever known. The character is based on him, accent and all, and isn't meant to be a caricature or misrepresentation. If he offends anyone please let me know but I wanted to say he was based on a very real human being and not just a stereotype. I miss him dearly.

That's all for now. I hope you like it.

"And now I need you to feel the vibe
I need you to see the point
I need you to feel alive
I need you to fill the void"

There was something tickling Mike's cheek. Shifting back a bit, he reached up to brush it away, wanting to fall back asleep. His hand met soft curls and he blinked an eye open in confusion, wincing as his left temple pounded. Not a hangover but one hell of a dehydration headache, which was suddenly, completely, and totally irrelevant, because there was someone sleeping on him. Someone he would recognize anywhere. Someone with silky curls, pouty lips, and soft skin that was pressed up against him everywhere.

El.

He almost jolted up, but quickly stilled himself, not wanting to wake her. Her eyes were shut, her mouth open slightly as she breathed, pillowed on his bicep. She'd stayed. What did that mean? His hand twitched towards her, wanting to trace the line of her peaceful face, feeling the urge to kiss her awake, like he had so many times before.

No. Wait. Bad idea.

It was a big enough surprise to him that she had stayed, startling her awake with a kiss would probably be too much. He had been drunk, but everything they'd done was a vivid memory and he couldn't get the sound of her pleas out of his head, begging him to touch her. Telling him she wanted him. Kissing him and grinding herself against him, gasping his name.

Jesus. How had that happened?

The events prior to their drunken makeout came back to him more slowly and he stared down at her as he remembered. They had ended up on his bed, rolling around and pressing against each other and panting, almost giving in. He was glad they hadn't. He was glad they had slept instead because now he was allowed to hold her sleepy form in his arms, feel her soft curves under his hands, warm and reassuring and so real.

How many nights had he dreamed of this? Had longed for the reality that was nestled against him now?

His hand slid up her bare side, across her hip bone and then up, feeling the smoothness of her skin, slightly tanned and sprinkled with tiny brown freckles from summers spent under the heavy rays of sun. Her face was slack, a single chocolate curl caught in the corner of her mouth, her lips slightly parted as she breathed. She was still so perfect, each dimple and concave on her body a work of art. God, he had missed this, just getting to feel her against him. She was irresistible, soft and warm, the smell of her floral perfume intoxicating.

He pressed a kiss to her temple, burying his nose in her hair and trying to inhale her very essence. If this was it, he was going to commit it all to memory. He was going to remember every detail.

Would this be it? A sleepy embrace and a single night spent rolling around on the sheets in their underwear? He wanted to be optimistic and say that her words last night had been the truth, but he just wasn't sure yet. He wanted her. But he wasn't sure if she would feel the same. If she even could. That was the uncertainty that caused him to just lay and feel her heartbeat against his sternum and her breath on his skin. To memorize it… just in case.

There was a sigh, warm on his bare chest, and Mike was pulled out of his musing. She squinted up her still closed eyes and let out a tiny, soft, adorable groan. His heart started pounding. What would she think? A thousand apologies ran through his mind, but they all died on his lips when something low in his stomach began throbbing as she shifted against him, half nerves, half hunger.

The rhythm they'd found last night reawakened as her legs shifted, still tangled with his, her hip brushing against his groin. Her body moved against his, as if seeking him, quickening his already uneven breathing, and sending all his blood south. Shit. Her eyes suddenly flew open just as her hand began to stroke against his chest. She pushed herself back from him, eyebrows jumping up her forehead as she went through the same process of surprise that he had.

He said nothing. He could barely breathe, watching as she took him in. Her gaze searched his face first, and he swallowed thickly as her eyes travelled down the rest of his body. The honeyed amber pools had the same effect on him as if it had been her hands doing the searching, heat flushing his skin. She gave nothing away, her eyes guarded and almost nervous.

Her hand reached out to touch him, tentative and small, stroking up across his chest to the column of his throat. Mike let out a shaky breath, as her fingers traced the shape of his jawline, feeling the light stubble just starting to poke through, before going up to his cheekbone, and resting there gently. She didn't quite meet his stare, her gaze fixed lower, and then her thumb was stroking across his cheek, over the bridge of his nose.

Her eyes finally flicked up to meet his and there wasn't any anger in her brown eyes. Just… desire. Need. Want. The same emotions that had stared at him last night through a drunken haze. She was so close. Laying in his arms, touching his face, her lips just inches away. His pulse was racing and he let his eyes wander, to the swell of her breasts, tucked into the nude bra that he noticed had a lace overlay and little bow in the middle. He licked his lips subconsciously as his eyes went down even further, to the slight indented line beneath her belly button that trailed down, disappearing under those cute as fuck panties. After moment he let his gaze dart back up to her face. She was still watching him, but now her eyes were downright desperate.

A bolt of needy hunger shot straight down to his dick as she licked her lips and he felt himself tremble, trying to hold it back. It was unfair that she was still so beautiful. Fuck, he could eat her alive, taste every inch of her flesh, fill his face and mouth with her and give and give and give until she was screaming. God, he wanted to. He wanted to devour her whole. He wanted to have her, every part of her, just like he used to.

Her fingers moved back from his cheek, to the edges of his hair, pushing into the thick locks and then tugging him slightly towards her. It was a signal. An answer to the unspoken question hanging thickly in the air. A plea.

Mike couldn't hold back anymore.

He grabbed her, pulling her as close as he could, and crashed his lips into hers. She whimpered into his mouth, her fingers tangling all the way into his hair and tugging. Then he was on top of her, rolling her onto her back, gathering her beneath him as he pressed down on her. A groan left his lips as he felt her again, felt her body underneath his own, a divine pleasure nothing else had ever matched. His hand slid down her side, then to her back, reaching behind to grab her round ass and shove her hips up against him.

"Mike," she gasped, her head falling back.

His body shuddered and he was hard in an instant, the sound of his name from her lips enough to light every nerve in his body on fire. They weren't drunk and she wanted him, her hands roaming over him and pulling him closer, unspoken desire pouring off of her in waves as she arched her back. Their stomachs and chests dragged against each other as he rolled his hips, grinding his erection against her thigh and groaning.

Please, please, please, her eyes begged, her mouth not yet ready to give him the words he craved. He wanted to hear her, wanted those sweet sounds, and he let his hands slowly slide back up her waist. His fingers teased the underside of her bra, dipping underneath it just barely, watching her gasp, eyes needy. One of her hands grabbed his, shoving it back, towards the clasp, feeling him playing with the edge of it. He didn't look away, his eyes locked with her pleading stare. She finally gave in.

"Mike." It was barely a breath. "Please."

The bra was unsnapped in two second and he tossed it over his shoulder without care, using an arm to haul her further up the bed, earning himself another lovely gasp. He moved down to her chest, keeping their eyes locked as he moved. She was biting her lip raw, brows drawn together. He finally looked away from her alluring expression as she arched up to him, her breasts like an offering. He swallowed thickly.

For a second he just took her in, bare for him, the pink rosebuds that tipped each soft mound, his breath ragged in his throat. She was so stunningly beautiful, completely breathtaking, and he reveled in the moment as she allowed him to see her again. Christ, how was this real? He stared, longer than necessary maybe, still trying to memorize her. A low whine left her throat and she squirmed, reaching up to cover herself as if self-conscious. His hands caught her and he shook his head.

"You're beautiful, El. More beautiful than I remember."

Her eyes widened, her brow pinching together, but she didn't fight him, seeming to tremble beneath him. He realized his blunder, bringing up the past, and kissed her lips quickly, to distract or apologize, he wasn't sure, but she relaxed beneath him and the tips of her perfect breasts barely brushed against the flat expanse of his chest. He bit back a groan and looked back down again, at the breathtaking view.

Then his mouth was on her, his tongue leaving hot, wet trails across her chest, his breath a cool wash that made goosebumps shiver over her skin, the nipple in his mouth pebbling tightly as he sucked. Her breath caught in her throat and her hips pushed up against his stomach, desperate for friction, trying to find purchase. He laved a wet path from one breast to the other, feeling her whimper as her hands snagged clumps of his hair and tugged.

He finally came up for air, looking down at her again, her perfect breasts shining wetly in the dim light of the room. Perfection. Heaven.

"Mike." Her voice brought his gaze back up to her face, her brow pinched with need. Her words stunted and breathy, repeating the same words as before, but with more intensity. "Please."

He felt a surge of pride and desire at what he had made her become in mere minutes. A wet mess. Begging for him. He already knew what she wanted.

"Please what?" he intoned. Needing to hear her say it out loud.

"T-Touch me," she whispered.

His hand slid down her stomach, to the edge of her palm tree covered panties that clung to her already wet center. He knew what she wanted. What she needed. But he needed something too.

"Tell me you missed me, El." His voice was firm but then shook at the end, unable to fully hide the emotion. His eyes filled with desperation. "Tell me you need me."

She didn't hesitate.

"I missed you, Mike. Please. Touch me. Please," she whimpered. "I need you."

He groaned, falling onto her, pressing his face against her neck and breathing in the smell of floral soap and the faint scent of cigarette smoke that had always clung to her from her father's habit. He kissed her throat and collarbones as she squirmed beneath him, trying to lose himself in the taste and smell of her. He could feel her, pressed so close, her voice whispering that she missed him and needed him, the muscles in his stomach clenching tightly as he tried to keep from losing it right there. It was almost too much, all of it, all at once and after so long. But her hand tugged his lower, his fingers brushing her underwear, and he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steadying himself.

"Mike." The whispered gasp brought him back.

The panties were shoved down her hips, and then his fingers found her wet heat, spreading her open and plunging into her. A drawn out hiss left her mouth and her thighs clenched against him, her hips wiggling as if asking for more. He pressed his thumb against her clit and he curled his finger inside of her, earning a gasp. Christ, how was she already so wet?

Her needy whimpers filled his ears and he gave her more, easing his finger out and then pushing in a second. Then a third. He had his knee between her legs, the weight of his waist keeping her pinned down, but she tried to roll her hips against him anyways, wanting more, needing more. Her moans filled the air like a choir of angels, his own nirvana, her hands gripping his shoulders as he pumped his fingers in and out of her, curling them into her slick clenching channel.

"Oh, oh," she gasped, eyes wide as she stared up at him, her pretty face twisted into an expression of her pure pleasure. "Mike, Mike, I miss you. Please."

"Fuck, El," he whispered back. "Say it again."

"I miss you."

The ache he'd felt, the one that had haunted his sleep and memories, the one he'd been unable to stifle or fully rid himself melted away as she confessed. Maybe she was just saying it because he told her to, but the way her brows peaked together, the haze of want that filled her eyes told him otherwise. She had missed him. She still wanted him. Needed him.

Their coupling had always been based in need, whether the need for just a good, hard fucking, a sweet reminding of their love, or the rebonding of their broken souls. It was something that had always just been theirs, a bridge to each other that no one else could find. The two years of severance had been a heavy burden, but as they rebuilt the lost connection through touch and taste and feel, Mike felt relief and ecstatic joy.

It was better than any drug, the euphoria that sparked every single nerve in his body to life, and the fire that had been pooling low in his stomach roared up and blazed through him. He pulled out of her, the slick fingers gripping her panties and ripping them all the way down her legs. Her own eagerness had her fingers twisting in the elastic of his boxers, pushing them down. His cock sprang out, aching for her, and she let the tips of her fingers whisper over it, sticky with his want. Then she grasped it firmly, his pulse throbbing against her palm as she pumped her hand once, his hips jutting forward automatically.

He had been starved of her for too long. He was going to grab whatever she gave him with greedy hands and hold on as tightly as possible. As long as she would let him.

"El, fuck, I need you," he choked out, the feel of her hands on his throbbing member making it hard to speak. "Shit, fuck, I need you now."

"Yes," she gasped, eyes frenzied as she nodded shakily. "I want you, Mike, please, I—I want to feel you inside me."

He groaned out loud at her words and then he crawled all the way over her, spreading her thighs and settling between them, her skin like satin. Pushing up, he scooted himself closer, their hip bones pressing against each other as he looked down, guiding himself closer to her aching center. His tip brushed against her and she whined loudly, her hands gripping his biceps, her breath shuddering out of her. She was so ready.

Suddenly he froze as common sense nagged at him through the haze of lust. They were missing something.

"Wait," he gasped, "I don't have a—"

"I'm still on the pill," she interrupted quickly, grabbing his hips to keep him close. "Don't worry. I haven't been with anyone else."

Mike felt his heart leap. It had been two years. Two years. And she hadn't let anyone else touch her, hadn't let anyone in, hadn't been like this with anyone else. The bit of needy primal fire growled happily in his chest. She was still his, at least in this way. No one else would have her. And damn it all if he didn't remind her of that again right now.

A sudden pang of anxiety twisted his gut and he hesitated. He'd been so ready, he still was ready, but… shit, was this even fair?

"El—"

She didn't let him speak, grabbing his face and pulling him to her lips, moving them against his and banishing the last of his hesitation, her fingers stroking through his hair, pushing the dark locks out of his eyes. Her hips pushed against his, a signal, and he kissed her back before pushing himself back up on his elbow, his hand moving down again to line his aching erection up with her soaking wet folds.

She was so wound up that he could feel every inch of himself pushing into her. He grunted, eyes slamming shut, feeling her hot breath gasp against his throat. Holy shit. Holy fuck. How was she so tight? So wet and perfect and warm. A low groan fell from his lips and he let his cheek rest on her, her soft curls already slicking to her damp forehead. He thrusted forward, greedily burying himself all the way inside of her hot cunt, unable to resist. She cried out, right in his ear, and he immediately tensed, guilt breaking through his euphoria, his eyes flashing open.

"Shit, I'm sorry, El, did I hurt you? Are you okay? I c-can't—" he started. He began to pull out of her, but stopped when he saw her face.

Her eyes were wide but she didn't seem to be in pain, in fact, it seemed to be quite the opposite. She stroked up the side of his calf with her foot, wrapping her legs around his hips, jolting him into her even deeper, the flash of heat so great his fingers dug into her hipbone, hard enough to bruise. It was too much but not enough and he slid back, encouraged, their skin rasping as he began to move, in and out, long easy strokes.

"El. El." He uttered her name like a prayer, pressing his sweat-slicked cheek to the curve her throat. "You're perfect and I missed you, fuck, I missed you so much. Every fucking day."

"M-Mike."

He attacked her skin with his teeth and tongue, nibbling a red line beneath her collarbone, needing to leave some kind of mark to remind himself later that it had been real. Her whimpers and cries were better than any melody, his answering gasps and groans the harmony. He let himself go faster, hearing her voice pitching up higher. She met him, stroke for stroke, her hips lifting to try and get him to go deeper, clearly craving more.

Giving in, he let the rhythm speed up, her body dragging up and down the bed as he began to pound into her, trying to fill her need. Anything for her. He would burn the world to ash if it was what she wanted in that moment.

"Harder, Mike, make me feel you." The sharp tips of her fingernails ghosted over his back. "Please, please, Mike, I need it, please!"

"Fuck!"

He let the primal urge turn his mind into a red-filled haze, slamming into her like she asked, the satisfying sound of their bodies wetly colliding filling the air. The headboard hit the wall, a noise complaint in the making, her body jolting across the sheets, her legs falling open as she cried out, egging him on. He needed to fill her, dominate her, claim her and make sure she knew she was his with every thrust. A snarl left his throat and she threw her head back, accepting all of it, the thing she had been craving.

It was a rekindling, the fire both had thought dead suddenly roaring back to life, sweeping over them like wildfire. She begged and pleaded, thighs clenching at his hips, taking him in over and over and over and over…

Mike felt something low in him twitch and he slowed abruptly, unwilling to let himself give in before she had reached her peak. There was an indignant huff from her but he shook his head apologetically, trying to go deeper to make up for the slower pace. Not yet. It had been years and he was needy and desperate and fucking ready to pound her into oblivion, but he could be kept from her for a millennia and still do everything in his power to make her feel pleasure. It was all for her. Every second. And he wasn't about to let it end yet.

He rolled his hips into her lazily, letting her feel him, all of him, the way he stretched and pushed against every inch of her. His gaze drifted down, watching, almost in disbelief, as his hard length disappeared into her again and again, barely able to handle just how hot it was. Her hands were in his hair and she pulled his lips to her mouth, kissing him hard enough to bruise. His bottom lip was caught between her teeth and she tugged it, making him wince, and then bit down so hard he growled, feeling it begin to swell.

When she let go a smirk played at her lips, smugness glinting in her eyes, a challenge. She knew exactly what she was doing to him. He could never back down from a challenge and he growled again, pressing his face to the side of her head, nipping her earlobe and making her gasp. Two could play at that game.

"I missed this so much," he breathed hotly into the shell of her ear. "I missed the feel of you wrapped around my dick. Your pretty face all pink. The way you say my name."

She moaned, unashamedly, her fingers digging into his biceps as he began to move faster again, knowing she was getting closer. There was no real obvious cue, but he just knew, years and years of experience guiding him. Her hand slid down, between their stomachs, slick with sweat and arousal, but he caught her by the wrist before she could reach all the way, throwing her arm back up and then pinning her hand down.

"No, El," he growled as he pulled back and shook his head but didn't slow his pace. "Just my dick. You're going to cum with just my dick." His voice lowered. "I know you can."

A high whine left her throat in protest, but he kept her wrist pinned to the mattress, watching her flushed face twist into a defiant frown. It would be cruel if he wasn't sure that she could. She had so many times before, on her hands and knees in the back of his car, bouncing on top of him under her covers, and with her back pressed up against the tile wall of a shower. The memories he'd tried to push away for so long were alive again, writhing beneath him as he mercilessly thrusted into her, his hips a blur as he rode out his need for her, let her feel it come alive with each lusty stroke.

"Mike," she gasped, eyes widening. A smug smile tugged at his mouth.

He already knew, releasing his grip on her wrists to reach down and catch the back of her knees on his forearms, forcing her hips upward in one fluid motion as he slammed his hands down next to her shoulders.

"Mike!" It was a scream, piercing his ear drums. "Fuck! Mike!"

She threw her head back, the angle exactly what she needed, her mouth gaping open as she gasped and panted. Mike smirked, feeling pleased, not just at hearing her scream for him, but for knowing he was the only one who had seen her this way. Spread out beneath, completely bare as she came undone. Eyes hazy and rolling back, lips swollen and open. Her body jolted as he slammed himself into her, as far as he could go, her fingers digging into the flesh of his freckled shoulders.

"That's it, El. Take it," he demanded with a grunt. "Take all of it."

"Mike! Ah! Ah!" She cried out at each punishing thrust. "Mike!"

He wasn't trying to be so aggressive, but he couldn't help it, his need to make all of her his, to dominate, taking over again as he felt her get closer. It was going to happen, she was mere heartbeats away from what she was begging for, and he groaned, still staring down at her, unwilling to look away for a single second as her mind and body began to unwind. There was no way he was going to miss it.

"C'mon, babe." The word fell from his lips without thinking. "C'mon!"

A wail erupted from her throat and then her thighs tried to slam together, his arms keeping them spread wide as her walls fluttered. Her breath gasped out of her and then her eyes squeezed shut as her nails ripped into his shoulders, causing him to wince. The pain made it more intense and he watched as she trembled and gasped, feeling a gush over his cock as he plunged into her. It pushed him to his edge and he felt himself losing it, stars dancing around her head as his vision started to blur.

"Give it to me, Mike," she gasped out, her hazy form urging him on. "I want you to."

Her words unlocked a vague memory, one he'd squashed into the furthest corner of his mind, of the taste of vodka and a room lit by red neon through a window. A flash of guilt twisted his gut but he ignored it and focused back on the beautiful woman beneath him, begging him to finish. In her. With her.

"Fuck!" He couldn't.

He was too far gone to turn back but he snarled and did the only thing that made sense, abruptly pulling out of her. A groan left his lips as he exploded onto her stomach, splattering her skin as she gasped in surprise. The headrush hit and he barely managed to roll off of her before he collapsed, panting and groaning, onto his back next to her.

"Holy shit," he croaked, his mind still a mushy mess.

It took him a moment to catch his breath and then he looked over at her, unsure of what would be the proper thing to do now. He instinctively reached for her, wanting to tuck her into him and kiss her sweaty forehead and try and let her know he was grateful for what had just happened. His hands stopped as he remembered things were different, but the bigger part of him didn't care and he rolled onto his side, ready to pull her close.

El sat up before he could grab her, staring down at the smooth concave of her stomach where several pearly strings were splattered across her belly button. She delicately touched one, eyebrows raising almost imperceptibly, like she was curious about the turn of events that lead to an ending different from the one she knew. Mike flushed, sitting up too and looking around for his discarded clothing. He grabbed his shirt off the floor and reached over to wipe away the mess, the guilt flooding in.

"I'm so sorry," he stammered, cleaning her off as thoroughly as possible. "I didn't meant to—"

"Why did you pull out?" She seemed amused.

"Um—" He winced, picking half of the truth. "I didn't know if I it was okay to—" He frowned, trying to phrase it differently. "I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I wasn't sure if you would want me to or not."

"I never minded before."

Her words were unexpectedly heavy. It was the first time she'd acknowledged their past out loud and he flushed again. Why the hell was everything so embarrassing? This wasn't some new experience. If anything he should feel more comfortable… it was El and she was naked and beautiful and laying next to him. Telling him she didn't mind if he came inside of her. Fuck. How was she so perfect?

He licked his lips and sat back, scratching at the back of his neck, unsure of how to explain his decision without making it awkward.

"Well, I mean, it's been a while," he shrugged. "Things change."

Her eyes became guarded and she looked away, towards the nightstand, crossing her arms as if trying to cover herself. Mike felt his heart sink. Shit, why had he said that?

"I-I just meant, like, it's been two years. You're different. You cut your hair," he blurted, then frowned at how far his foot was shoved into his mouth. "Uh, good different. I like it. I just didn't expect you to change it."

"I went on a date. And then I cut my hair," she mumbled almost incoherently, her fingers tugging at the shorter curls hanging around her shoulders. Then her eye caught the time on the alarm clock and she gasped loudly. "Shit!" She jumped up, gathering her clothes and trying to put them back on. "Shit, shit, shit, shit…"

He was still a bit stuck on the fact that she had gone on a date. How did that correlate with a haircut? And who had she gone on a date with? When? Was she dating someone? No, of course not, otherwise they wouldn't have just done what they'd done. At her panicked yelp, however, he jumped up off the bed too, quickly sliding his on briefs and jeans and watching her redress with obvious concern.

"What's wrong?" He swallowed nervously, hoping it wasn't sudden regret causing her to flee. She'd seemed pretty into it but he knew it was possible to want something and then regret it immediately. "You okay?"

"Max is picking me up at ten for brunch with the bridesmaids. It's nine thirty. I can't go looking like this!" She struggled to hook her bra back together, hands panicky and fumbling. "And I left my purse at the bar with my room key and—"

"Hey." He went around the bed to her side, cautiously putting an arm around her shoulder, and silencing her anxious babbling with a hug. She didn't move away and he relaxed a bit as her forehead pressed against his bare chest. His fingers caught one of her curls, rubbing the silken strands subconsciously as he tried to calm her irrational panic. "Why don't you hop in the shower here, in my room, and I'll go to the front office and see if they have a spare key so you can get in your room," he suggested easily. "Don't stress."

"Oh." Her voice was muffled against his chest and her arms tentatively wrapped around his lower ribs. He felt her sigh and relax. "Okay. Yeah. Thanks. Um. That's really nice of you."

There was a breath as they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, something fragile filling the air. Mike was afraid to move, not wanting to snap the crystalline tendrils holding them together, unsure of what would happen if he let her go. His arms tightened around her. He had let her go once, his biggest regret. And it had lead them back to this, fucking each other's brains out in a shitty motel a week before their friends' wedding. But what did it mean? What were they now?

Were they allowed to be anything at all?

El shifted and the spell was broken. She didn't move away though, shifting so her chin rested on his sternum as their eyes met, gnawing her lip. Uncertainty was evident behind her honey brown eyes. The morning light caught the bit of green that dappled the edges, one of the little details that had faded from his mind in the past two years. He resisted the urge to cup her face in his hands and re-memorize every curve and line, wanting to kiss each one. She shifted again and he stifled a sigh, finally releasing her from his grip, watching as she ducked her head and took a step away.

"I need to hurry." Her voice was soft and apologetic. "Do you mind getting the key?"

"Yeah," he agreed quickly. "Yeah. Of course, El. There's towels and stuff in the…" Of course there were towels in the bathroom. He tried to shake the stupid out of his brain. "I mean, you know what to do."

Her lips twitched up at his bumbling and he felt his heart leap as the bit of laughter teased into her eyes. God, he had missed her smile. He gestured awkwardly towards the bathroom again, unsure of what to say and finding his mouth was suddenly dry anyways. Damn it. She nodded graciously, taking pity, and headed toward the shower.

Mike remained in place, trying to figure out whether or not that conversation had been… good? So much for getting clarity. He'd just been a stupid, awkward idiot, unable to find something to say. To be fair the sex had kind of spoken for itself… he just wished he knew what it meant for them now.

The sound of running water pulled him out of his thoughts. The key. He told her he would get her a key to her room. Swallowing down his questions, he pushed his muddled thoughts away and pulled a plain white tee out of his suitcase on the floor, throwing it on and then pulling his jeans a little higher up his hips.

He reached the door and hesitated. The consequences of leaving her again caused him to pause. What would happen once he stepped out this door? Would she pretend it never happened? She had said a lot of things the night before, but hadn't repeated any of them this morning. He glanced into the bathroom, directly to his right. El had yet to shut the door, and was currently half dressed and grabbing a towel from a shelf, while she let the shower warm up, steam already beginning to cover the sliver of mirror he could see her reflected in. His hunger for her hit him full force all over again. And it was ravenous.

Abandoning his exit before he could talk himself out of it, he was next to her in three long strides, eyes dark and hooded, hand reaching. She turned towards him as he entered the bathroom, automatically using the towel in her hands to try and cover her half-naked body.

"Mike?" Confusion covered her pretty face but she relaxed slightly at she realized it was just him again. "What—"

He didn't let her finish. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her to him, bringing her mouth to his, kissing her hard and deep, letting his want flow into her. He wanted to consume her, to remind her of what had just taken place, to not let her forget whose name she'd just screamed. She clung to him, gasping her surprise, and Mike took the opportunity to plunge his tongue into her mouth, trying to taste every inch of her. He groaned as she matched him, her surprise quickly replaced with need as she buried her hands into his hair and pulled him down harder against her.

Yes. This is what he wanted. He was out of his mind, losing himself to her all over again, needing more and more every second. His hand grabbed one of her thighs and hitched it over his hip, bringing their centers closer and he felt her whine into his mouth.

Wait. Shit. They couldn't do this. She needed to leave soon. Max was coming for her. He needed to get her a key. Fuck.

He pulled away, and they both panted, their lungs rasping for air. Their bodies aching for each other. El's eyes were glassy and dazed, and she looked ever so slightly off balance. He felt himself smirking, enjoying that he had as much of an effect on her as she did on him. The drunken confession hadn't been a total lie, and the sex obviously wasn't a one time thing.

She did still want him. At least a little bit.

"Um, we should talk later," he suggested with an easy nod. "Can we do that?"

El seemed only able to nod, still reeling from his kiss.

Mike needed to leave. Because if he stayed any longer, El would definitely be late. He placed a kiss to her temple and left her once again.

The door shut behind him rather abruptly and he tugged his pants up again, too lazy to grab a belt, feeling oddly warm. With another glance towards the bathroom, he headed for the door of the room and pulled it open.

A warm breeze greeted him, the sun shining merrily, completely ignoring his anxious, glaring eyes. It was a beautiful day and Mike took a deep breath, stepping out and feeling the still-cool concrete under his bare feet. He glanced around the small compound, which was mostly quiet, the only sound the cars passing by and the distant crash of the waves. The office was across the parking lot and he dodged pieces of broken glass and cigarette butts and a used condom, grimacing. Maybe shoes would have been a good idea.

The small office was empty, the air conditioner in the window blowing chilly air over him as he glanced around the nautical themed space. Several stuffed fish hung on one wall and a wooden carving of a sailor stood in the corner. It felt a little… east coast-y and he wondered if that's why it was so cheap. Beachside motel themed for Nantucket instead of San Jose. Who had made that mistake?

He noticed a bell on the counter and reluctantly stepped forward, smacking it with a heavy hand, the cheerful "ding!" filling the room. A door in the back popped open and a tiny, Asian man came out, wearing glasses and a pleasant smile.

"Hello! I can help you?" He spoke with a thick accent Mike couldn't quiet place. Korean? Taiwanese? Not Japanese. Whatever, unimportant. He refocused on the task at hand.

"Um, hi. I was wondering if you had a spare key for room sixteen?"

"Your room?"

"No, uh, my friend's. She left her key at a bar last night."

"Why she not come and get last night?" The small man raised an eyebrow, his eyes shrewd. "I only give key to room owner."

"She…" Mike sighed, not really in the mood to try and explain the question that was currently his and El's relationship. "I let her stay in my room last night because we were both really drunk. But she needs to get in it this morning and she's taking a shower at the moment so she can't come and get it herself. Can you please help me out?"

The man suddenly brightened, like he was remembering something. "Room sixteen, you said?"

"Yeah."

He disappeared abruptly, down behind the counter, and Mike leaned over in surprise, unsure of what was happening. After a second the small man popped back up holding a scuffed, brown leather purse. Mike recognized it immediately. His mother had bought it for El for Christmas during his second year at college. It had been her first purse and she'd taken it everywhere, forgetting it half the time and making him drive back to the theater or restaurant to retrieve it. Some things didn't change.

"That's her purse," he blurted. "Did someone return it?"

"Nice man. With curly hair. He say it was his friend's, but he not know where she is. She was with you?"

Mike's face heated up. "Um, yeah. She was safe. But, uh… don't tell people that, please?"

The man's eyes glinted, taking in the younger man's sweaty, disheveled appearance and the dots of red seeping through the white shirt across the shoulders. Mike wished he knew his name so he could try and beg a little more personally. He didn't need their friends butting into whatever this was between them.

After a moment the motel-keeper nodded, pushing the bag across the counter towards Mike and smiling conspiratorially. Was it really that obvious? Mike pushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes and attempted to look thankful.

"Thanks. I'll try not to let her lose it again."

"Good friend."

With that the little man turned around and vanished into the back room again, leaving Mike shivering under the blasting air conditioner. After standing there another few seconds to process what happened, he let out a sigh and turned, clutching the purse under his arm to try and keep it out of sight. He kept his head down as he carefully made his way back to his room, glancing around and hating that he felt the need to hide it. Hide the fact that they were with each other. That she was in his room showering after having some of the most mind blowing sex they'd ever had.

Sex with her had always been amazing and he was pleased knowing he could still make her feel the way he had before. That she still wanted to. Her words last night came back to him.

"I never stopped wanting you, Mike. I didn't want to leave you. I just couldn't go with you."

Those three sentences had completely turned his world upside down. All this time he'd been convinced that she had been happy without him. That she'd told him to go to get him out of her life. Why else had she turned down that scholarship? Why else had she literally pushed him away, using her powers to freeze him out?

He felt his stomach twist as the confidence that pushed him to walk into the bathroom and kiss her faltered a bit. Those were answers he wanted—no, that he needed. That he god damn deserved. Okay, so, they still wanted each other… but what now? Were they going to tell their friends at some point? Was he going to be able to hold her hand or wrap an arm around her like he used to? Was this just… sex?

He realized he was in front of his room, staring at the gold plated numbers on the door. There were so many questions and she was the only who could give him answers. It had been enough to know she still wanted him, to be able to give her that and hear her whisper that she had missed him. Goosebumps shivered down his neck. It had been perfect.

His hand reached for the knob and then rested there as the guilt he'd felt earlier stabbed into him again. Maybe he should tell her. Be honest. It wasn't that big of a deal, really. But she deserved to know if they were going to get intimate again. Because they had an entire week until he had to go back to New York and if she still wanted him, he was going to give her the best week of her goddamn life.

Fuck goodbyes. That wasn't relevant right now. Right now he wanted to go in there and grab her and kiss her and tell her that he still loved her. Tell her everything, every truth and moment and thought he'd experienced since they'd been apart. It was time to come clean and start over and see what could happen.

It was time to get his soulmate back.

Taking a deep breath, he turned the knob and swung the door open quickly, charging in, totally ready to spill his heart out to her. He stopped, letting the door fall shut behind him, closing his mouth and feeling disappointed. She was still in the bathroom with the door shut. Of course.

For a second he considered knocking on it and busting in. No. He'd already done that once, twice would be too much. Not until he knew for sure that what they had was… solid still. Or again. Had it ever really gone away?

The uncertainty was a fucking nightmare and he plopped onto the bed instead of barging in on her, deciding it wasn't worth the risk. His hands fiddled with the strap on her purse and he dropped it into his lap, staring down at it for a moment before unzipping it. A key on a comically large seahorse keychain popped out and he scrabbled to keep anything else from falling out of the bag. He couldn't keep from glancing inside, wondering what clues it would hold to the person she was now.

A pack of cinnamon altoids, two tampons, her wallet, a couple of crumpled receipts, a pack of tissues, a lip balm and two different lipsticks. And her keys. He squinted, pulling them out, letting the cool metal rest in his palm as he stared at the keychain that had caught his eye.

It matched the one he had hidden in his desk drawer back home. Her prom dress and his tux, her smile as he kissed her cheek, their arms wrapped around each other. She had kept it too, in a much more obvious place, and he blinked at the photo dangling next to her house key.

The water turned off in the bathroom and he jumped, quickly shoving everything back into her purse and zipping it up. He stood, trying to act casual, like he hadn't been snooping, and after a few more seconds the door opened and she stepped out wearing the rumpled orange dress and a towel on her head. She seemed blank, rubbing the edge of the towel between her fingers listlessly, but then she spotted her purse in his hands and lit up like the Fourth of July.

His heart danced at her smile, even though it was aimed more at the bag and less at him, relief clear in her eyes.

"Hey, uh, feel better?"

"Yes!" She was walking towards him, arms reaching. "You found my purse?"

"Dustin left it for you at the office. The owner let me have it." He let her take it from his hands, trying not to feel morose at the fact that she wasn't reaching for him. "Um, the key is in there, I checked."

"Perfect."

She bent over and unwrapped the towel, rubbing her hair with it before tossing it onto the TV stand. The smell of his Old Spice body wash rolled off of her and he felt a strange ping of happiness. She smelled like him.

"Um, I'm going to go. I have ten minutes… I need makeup," she sighed, fiddling with the hem on her skirt. "I'll… see you later?"

"Oh, yeah. Sounds good." He tried to hide his disappointment. Of course she couldn't hang around with him all day. They had things to do. At least she wanted to see him later. That was a start.

There was another quiet moment, where she stood there for a second, and then she buzzed toward him, quick and nervous like a hummingbird, standing on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. Her hand rested on his chest, warmth erupting at the points of contact, and then she was at the door, smiling softly at him over her shoulder. The door opened and closed and she was gone, leaving him standing there in a daze, staring after her.

AN:

I'm sure this wasn't what you were expecting but I hope you're pleased. I've started to realize this story isn't as purely angst as I had thought but there's still a ways to go and I haven't written the hardest part yet. It's coming along more slowly than I had hoped. Sorry. I hope you can be patient.

The perspective shifts back and forth between the two of them so next chapter is El, we'll see how she feels about what happened here... I think she's in a different place than Mike is.

See you in a few weeks.

~Wyn