Pretty Boy walked me backwards down the last few steps. It was a valiant effort until I lost a flip flop.
"Ow. Cold!"
"Huh?"
I swatted at him and tried to hook my toes back through my horribly inappropriate footwear. It involved hopping while he tried to hold me upright.
"You're wearing flip flops?"
"They're waterproof! I didn't want my flats to get all wet and gross."
"But your feet can get wet and gross?"
"They're waterproof, too."
I smiled up at him. I felt like a happy little boat bobbing on the bright blue sea or some other cheerful thing that cynical people don't usually like. One of my hands was gripping Edward's wrist tucked up inside the sleeve of his shirt. I was cheerfully drunk on being able to touch him.
"Aren't you supposed to be studying?"
"If I don't know it by now I'll never know it."
"Great logic, Duckling." The corner of his mouth was carefully trying to avoid from turning up.
I couldn't help but stop walking again to kiss him. We broke apart but stayed almost nose to nose in the middle of the sidewalk with my toes quickly freezing. "I feel like I'm going crazy."
Pretty Boy twisted up his fingers in the ends of my hair to kiss me one last time — quick and hard — he didn't even pull out a quip about my almost certain insanity. "Let's go home."
My breathing was all lopsided and shallow as I reluctantly uncurled my fingers from his collar. "Home," I agreed.
I was flat on my back, Pretty Boy framed in between my legs. He was still wearing jeans, but no shirt, no belt, no shoes or socks. I was wearing panties — always a good start, but in my case it was also the middle and the end. All my other clothes were chilling somewhere on Pretty Boy's bedroom floor.
This was definitely new territory. The half-naked boy with his fingers hooked in the sides of my panties on top of almost-naked me, more so than his room. We had hung out in his room before. And I'd been almost naked before, but not totally, and not both of us at the same time. It was a world of new.
I think I squeaked when he started edging the panties down over my ass. I had been making a lot of embarrassing noises. What was one more?
He made this amused sound that wasn't quite a laugh and I felt better, it felt familiar. It would have been totally fine except that he looked up at me when he started on his jeans, and the second his eyes hit mine I blurted out, against my own will, completely against my own will, "I haven't — I haven't before —"
His fingers froze in place over his zipper and the sentence hung awkwardly between us.
I scrunched up my face, covering it with both hands as I let my head fall back. I was an idiot. He was going to stop. He'd think I was a freak.
I peeked down and saw expressions flickering across Edward's face faster than I had thought possible. Confusion. Disbelief. Frustration. Guilt. All the good stuff. I mean we'd had the 'not just anyone' talk but to him 'not just anyone' probably didn't mean 'no one'.
I let my head thump back down on the pillow. He leaned up over me, and caught my wrists before my hands could cover my painfully red face again. Hesitantly, I opened my eyes. He was really close, and my panties were still hanging around my knees.
His expression was softer now. The dim orangey light made his eyes sparkle in this amazing way.
"Hey." He still had my wrists wrapped delicately in his long fingers. "I'll take really good care of you. If you want to."
I swallowed to try and ease the pressure in my chest. I wanted to say no. I wanted to be the world's biggest bitch to him so that he'd never speak to me again. I wanted to curl up in the fetal position and not speak to anyone for a week.
I didn't feel safe. I felt like I might throw up because I was so terrified. An emotional cripple losing their virginity to someone they actually cared about — surely that was a horrible idea?
Instead of vomiting all over the beautiful, half-naked boy pressing me into the mattress, I said: "You're always really nice to me."
"Yeah, well, I —"
"What?" I whispered urgently.
"I like you, Bella... I'm kinda crazy about you. Don't milk it though, you gotta let me have a little dignity."
I held my thumb and pointer finger close together between us. "A little."
He snapped at my finger with his perfect teeth.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, leaning up toward him. "I'm kinda crazy about you, too."
His answering smile made that stutter-y, swollen pulse inside me feel like it had stopped altogether. "Don't worry, I won't tell."
"You can tell whoever you want," I mumbled against his lips.
I kissed him then, and tried to shimmy completely out of my panties at the same time. It was wholly unsuccessful, and he laughed into my mouth as he pulled them down off my ankles.
I grabbed him by his shoulders just as he started on his zipper again and tried to joke: "If you stop speaking to me cause I suck, I'm going to tell everyone your dick is tiny. Really tiny." My voice cracked, and it didn't sound so funny.
"Aw, you're no good at lying, Duckling."
I rolled my eyes.
He leaned over me, propping himself up with his elbows. "You won't suck."
"Okay."
"Don't bite me if it hurts."
"Don't hurt me then."
"Your hymen is not my fault. Just... tell me, okay?"
I glared at him, trying not to laugh. "Okay," I agreed. "Take off your pants."
"Yes, ma'am."
He was down to clingy boxers when he kissed me again. Then, in some kind of stealth move, they were gone, too.
My mouth followed his lips as he pulled back.
"You really wanna do this? You don't have to —"
"MC, despite your tendency towards douchiness... you're probably the nicest guy I've ever met. You take care of me. You keep me caffeinated. Plus, I'm eighteen, and I'm into you; like really, really into you, so..."
"You want me to get into you?"
"Oh my God, forget it." I pressed my hand to his face, and pushed him away. "I'm never having sex with you."
He smiled into my palm before he batted it away and kissed me. It wasn't rushed, but it was kind of urgent. No one had ever kissed me like that before — like they were desperate for me, but not pushy.
It didn't make much sense. I couldn't make much sense of it, anyway.
It was the kind of kiss that would have made me take off my pants, if I'd still been wearing them.
The dark, stomach-flipping, scary, awesome look in Pretty Boy's eyes made me feel upside down. And, I thought that it probably didn't matter if I liked the boy a whole lot more than he could ever like me, and that sure he might get up afterwards and walk away, but I was okay with that. I was used to people being apathetic to my existence and, for once, I wanted the good bit. The bit that comes before. Not the sex, not just the sex, but sort of everything else that goes along with.
I wanted to tell him secrets — silly things that didn't even matter but I still hadn't told anyone else in case they laughed — I wanted him to read my journal, and meet my family. I was kind of ridiculously happy he dropped out of Juilliard even though it was a stupid thing to do.
I wanted to hear him play piano, and violin, and all those other instruments I knew he could probably play.
Most of all, I really wanted to have sex with him.
My mind was too fogged to panic when he turned his attention to the condom packet. Every problem page I'd ever read reminded me that it supposedly hurt less to lose it on top, and I was mentally weighing up being that exposed versus killing the mood with my inevitable shriek of pain.
Vanilla won out, the decision made for me with the feeling of Pretty Boy settling his hips just above mine — the smallest pressure between us. My chest was tight and vanilla suddenly seemed like the most exciting, badass flavor ever.
My mind was back to buzzing a million miles a minute right up until he kissed me and simultaneously thrust smoothly into me. A burst of pain hit partway. I bit his lip. I actually drew blood as he cursed into my mouth and held rigidly still inside me.
"Fuck —" he cursed, lowly.
"Jesus fuck that hurt," I said into his bloody lip.
His expression was pained, the little dip between his lip and his chin smeared with blood. "You okay now?"
"I cut your lip."
He held himself up with one arm, wiping his mouth with the back of his free hand.
It didn't hurt anymore but I felt wriggly, like if I could shift my hips to the right angle the pressure inside me would give way. I pressed my hands behind my back on the mattress, pushing myself up to kiss him again, softly. My lips avoided his swollen lower lip as much as I could.
It was going to bruise.
I shifted my hips again involuntarily, and his pressed back against me and then began to withdraw. The friction made me hold my breath. When he entered again, quicker this time, the air flew out of me in a short, sharp gasp.
It wasn't like I'd expected. It reminded me a little of the feeling you get when you can't stop prodding a particularly bad bruise — a strange mixture of pleasure and discomfort.
It was good. It was better than I'd expected and kind of underwhelming at the same time. My pulse felt like it might thud right out of my body. There was potential though.
I wanted to do it again before it was even over.
The worst part of losing my virginity — I cried afterwards.
Not regret-filled there-are-nudes-of-me-on-Facebook style sobbing, but weepy eyes and a sniffle I tried — and failed — to hide from Pretty Boy. After all, how much can you actually hide from someone when you're pressed together naked? Also, being glued together by bodily fluids? Only nice for like five minutes before you cool down and your whole being feels sticky and gross.
I was happy, and tired, and totally not okay with him disappearing after the deed like I thought I'd be.
It was horrifying. I was sure Pretty Boy would think I was a crier, and I really wasn't. I never cried, and he kept catching me doing it. I swore if the story of how I cried after I lost my virginity ever came out I'd kill him, or tell everyone it was because he was so terrible.
His brow furrowed. "Are you crying?"
"No. I think I'm allergic to you."
His thumb wiped the tears from the little crescents under my eyes. "We can ply you with anti-histamine before next time." His hand hovered at my face, brushing my hairline lightly. He was on his side, and I was on my back. He could see my ribcage fluttering up and down under my skin. "Are you okay?"
"I feel like a loser. I don't even know why I'm crying."
He pulled me up so that I was mostly on top of him, buoyed by his breathing — he was warm, and so much bigger than me. My hair fanned out everywhere in a damp, sweaty mess that covered my back and fell down around our faces.
"You're so weird," he mumbled into my hair.
"I know!" I rested my cheek just under his collarbone and he wrapped an arm up around my shoulders, his hand holding the back of my head lightly, fingers twined through my hair nest. "Bet girls don't usually cry when they sleep with you."
"When have you ever been usual?"
I flicked his nipple in retaliation. When I looked at him again his bottom lip seemed seriously maimed. I probably should have been embarrassed, but for some reason my brain decided it was hysterically funny.
"I can't believe I bit you!"
"I can't believe you bit me. You need to get a rubber gum-shield before my dick goes near your mouth."
"It's gonna take a lot of free coffee to put me in that good a mood."
"You think the 'Bucks do bulk orders?"
I kissed him then. He was so pretty, and happy, and glow-y. I know that makes him sounds like a preggo woman, but... seriously, I don't think I've ever liked someone as much as I liked Edward in that moment.
I liked him enough to use his real name.
He was pinch-me cute. Y'know, except for the being stuck to me with cold sweat part.
"You're okay though, right?" he mumbled into my hair. "You're not like psychologically damaged..."
"By your penis?" I rolled my eyes even though I was tucked up into his chest and no one could see. "No."
"Good, good."
"MC?"
"Yeah?"
"Let's be pirates. I like treasure hunting."
AN: So... I'm horrible at keeping to a schedule. Sorry! We've got a couple more chapters to go, but, I will miss this story hardcore so for December I'm going to do an advent calendar of sorts. Just PM me with a little prompt for our duo and I'll write something. Can't promise how long they'll be, but I'll do 25 of 'em. If you're interested of course! Take care, lovelies.