A/N: Okay, I won't tease you anymore :P
You rise up slowly and feel your abs clenching as they are trying to haul up the weight of your upper torso. Your head separates from the soft surface of Maura's bed and rises higher, slowly taking the locks of your hair with it. Maura's head appears in your peripheral vision and her head is turning, stopping halfway towards you. Your body has a choice to use the back muscles to fully prop you up, or to lean on the elbows.
Your head overflows.
Later will be too late.
Later, the mood of the situation will be gone.
Later, the moment will pass. Literally. It's just a moment. Just one.
"I just wanted to prove that you're just aaaall talk."
A getaway joking excuse writes itself in your mind, just in case.
Your right forearm settles below you as support and your chest twists, facing her. Her face displays nothing. But it's not unreadable or cryptic. It simply hides no emotion. And that is the beautiful part. She's just looking at you, like she does all the time, with the same warm genuine eyes and relaxed features. That's what encourages you. That she sees you this close, and her face has no fear, no surprise, no sign of any willingness to escape. She wants to be here. She is comfortable being here.
Your left hand stretches its fingers along her jaw, almost moving her face towards yours. Almost, because you don't really do it. Almost, because she does it herself.
And then you lean in and take her lower lip between the two of yours.
And she kisses you back.
Explosions.
Fireworks.
But mostly, relief.
Because sober Maura wants it too.
Your hand waits not a second and slides below her neck, grasping, keeping her close. You think you've been rough and pulled her strongly but that's not the case. She arches up to you on her own. She's hungry. Like she waited for you to do it. Like she was expecting it. Like she was... letting you take the lead.
You shift, placing your leg on the other side of her body so she's below you once more. You don't know who needs it worse, who pulls and pushes and twitches more, whose hands roam the other's body more relentlessly, whose blood rushes faster, whose breaths are louder, whose body burns hotter.
You just know that yours is on fire.
So you kiss. And you touch. And you glide. And you scratch. You lick. You moan. You take deep breaths. You lose control. You fully relax and for once let yourself just enjoy. You free yourself of the urgency that you used to feel because now you feel like there's no clock ticking. Just you and her. And enjoyment.
After what simultaneously feels like seconds and centuries you find yourself struggling to take your lips off hers and speak.
"We're still going for breakfast, you know." She nods, smiling. "Cause I'm still starving."
She flips you over and you laugh as your feet get caught up in the covers and you fall messily to the side. Your hands, not leaving her waist, pull her on top of you properly, then slide to her back, pressing, gluing your bodies together. She smiles against your face and kisses you again. You think it's one of your favorites, her kissing you as she smiles.
"Okay. But can we come back here again afterwards?" This time she's trying to hide an emotion: that her face is virtually pleading. Another warmth envelops you.
"Maaaybe." It's a yes and you both know it.
You feel a giant grin draw out on your face. Five more minutes.
And her lips close on yours yet again.
The people sitting on the tables around you can look at Maura's white blouse and all they can see is a soft material covering a well-sculpted body. When you look at Maura's white blouse you see the red mark lying below it that you left on her collarbone last night, you see the curve of her breasts and the way they moved when she laid back, naked, and your mind projects the feeling of their softness in your mind. When you look at Maura's white blouse, you only see yourself taking it off.
The breakfast passes in silence, a calm and pleasant atmosphere because none of you feels like talking about anything. This morning was different. This morning was uncertain. Now there's an unspoken ease and an aura of comfort.
You drive her back to her house and as she opens the door to exit the car, you open yours too. She doesn't explicitly ask you in but you feel like she's thankful you don't require an invite.
The living room lies covered in last night's mess. A top, pants, boots, underwear, glasses and alcohol. You don't care. It's amusing, really, the remnants of a wild checkpoint in whatever that thing between you two can be labeled as. A little less than 12 hours ago you were certain it was a lost cause. Now, you're encouraged. A tremendously annoying voice in your head tells you to not get your hopes too high up but you shake it off. Shut up.
She , of course, starts tidying things up and you offer help, but before you know it she's done and she's lying on the couch again, smiling at you.
It's an explicit enough of an invite.
"I have this peculiar feeling," Words like these would usually make you alert, but her tone indicates nothing of the sorts. It sounds like she's pondering amusedly. She kisses you again before continuing. "like some teenager flailing over simple little things in high school."
It's funny.
Also, it's true, for you too.
Maybe that's why it's funny. Look at what state of mind this has brought you two to. You're lying topless next to Maura, who is equally clothed, and sleep is creeping up on you but you don't wanna stop. What soothes you and allows you to let it take over is the notion that sleep won't be the end this time.
The first time, you stopped and went to bed cause she said she was tired. The next day you couldn't have her anymore.
Last night she passed out and you thought it was done. For over six or seven hours you were wondering how long until you stop feeling like an abusive shithead and also how long until she drunkenly decides she wants you again. Pathetic.
But now sleep doesn't mean this is over. You can wake up and kiss her.
You brain envelops around that one thought of waking up next to her and kissing her. You try to think of what your goals were before that, but this is the only thing on your checklist of sought after achievements. She rises shortly and pulls the blanket over the two of you, the blanket under which you sat and talked about work, laughed and cried, watched movies and gossiped about men. Men. Ew. The fact that you actually think these two words in that succession feels stupidly ridiculous to you, but your mind doesn't have enough time to analyze this because you're dozing off next to your best friend.
But when you wake up...
When you wake up you can kiss her.
A/N: Or well, I won't tease you for now, because, you know, over 60 hours left :P
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