Victoria was strangely non-fussy that night. Not that they weren't thankful, but it put them both slightly on edge. Marie assumed that was just a part of parenthood. Honestly, she didn't know how Kami dealt with all the stress. Maka was older and less fussy, not that she was a fussy baby to start with, but still, it must have been hard for her.
Marie smothered a sigh. The atmosphere was... awkward. She knew he heard the conversation in the grocery store, and she just felt so weary about all of it: the babysitting, the fake baby... Stein.
They didn't feel like watching a movie and Stein's back was flat-out slaughtering him from sleeping on the couch for so many nights. He didn't want to go into Azusa's room, because the woman was weird and it would feel strange to sleep in her bed, so he ended up, as he always did, in Marie's bed. He almost didn't want to, and he could see that Marie was also conflicted. It was a pull between wanting to be close and wanting space. The inches between them could have well been miles or millimetres. He didn't know which he'd prefer.
He couldn't sleep. And neither could she and he could tell because he knew her, probably better than almost anyone else. It didn't matter if she was trying to keep her breathing deep and rhythmic, he knew a fake sleep when he heard one.
He'd been thinking too much, again. She was right there, her back to him. He shifted in the bed, turning onto his side and catalogued her: tank top, no bra, pajama pants, hair loose. Marie. He knew this, too. He knew all of it.
He had all the facts right in front of him.
"Marie?" he asked, his voice shattering through the room. If she didn't answer, he'd just turn back around.
But she shifted, her back still to him. "...Yeah?"
He didn't know how to answer that. He didn't actually have a question or anything to tell her. He didn't really know what he wanted. When the silence stretched out too far, Marie turned her head, concern creasing her forehead.
"Franken?"
Still no answer. Just him looking at her. She frowned, rolling onto her back, intent on facing him, but his hand suddenly came out and stopped her, palm over the slope of her shoulder to gently push her back.
"Franken-"
"Why are you so concerned?" he asked, hand still where he had originally set it. She couldn't see him, it strained her neck too much to try to look over her shoulder, and lying on her side like that, she figured he didn't want her to look at him anyway.
"Because you were just silent for a good five minutes after calling my name?" she answered, keeping her voice gentle.
This was uncharted. She was used to him being coy, or silly, or stupidly infuriating, or a goddamn tease. Not this, though. Not... vulnerable.
"That isn't what I meant."
"Okay," she said, "Could you tell me what you meant?"
He didn't reply, but she felt the bed dip closer to her as he moved, and suddenly, he was sweeping her hair away and to the side, and she felt his lips on the nape of her neck and she sucked in a breath. She was usually the one to do such sweet, chaste things.
"Franken-" she started, but his mouth just moved down her spine through her shirt, and she was certain each place of his lips marked the ridges of her vertebrae. She swallowed when his hand moved from her shoulder down, over the dip of her waist, until it settled on the space right before the swell of her hip, his heat dulled by the fabric. He was making sure he wasn't touching her skin.
He was giving her an out.
She didn't know what he wanted from her, outside of the usual.
She thought about it for a second. Maybe he heard the conversation in the store, wanted to prove to her that nothing had changed.
Maybe it was time for her to just accept that, between them, nothing would change. She always knew that she just wanted to be with him, wanted him to want her, to want to be with her. And sometimes she could try to convince herself that he did, in more ways than just the physical or the friendly. He could be so affectionate sometimes, could be so careful with her.
She loved him. Loves.
But it didn't change anything.
So she takes a deep breath in before she set her jaw and moves, dislodging his touch so she could remove her tank top, baring her torso to him. His hand hovered until she brought her own on top of it, guiding him to rove over her and down.
If he was trying to tell her that he didn't want her to get ideas in her head about what they could be and he was attempting to be delicate with her, she didn't want the pity.
She wanted tender. She wanted intimate. But she didn't want it if it was artificial.
Every movie she'd ever seen made it seem like it would be a blur, a caption of slow motion cinematography that could be replayed before her to a beautiful soundtrack. But it wasn't, and a piece of her almost wanted it to be. There was something about the atmosphere that reminded her of when they first started having sex. But, unlike then, when it was just a frenzy of hands and eyes clenched shut, there was something too sweet about how gentle he was being with her.
She didn't want to have such perfectly clarity of turning her head to kiss him but deciding at the last moment not to, instead telling him to take his shirt off, to take his pants, her pants off, to get her off.
She could direct them back to what was familiar. Fucking was familiar.
They didn't have any business making love, faking love. Not when she was the only one in love. Not when it couldn't be anything different because he was Stein and a world where he loved her was too much fantasy and not enough cold, brazen reality.
Fucking they could do. They had practice in that. They were good at it.
They'd started with her on all fours, her back to him, her face pressed to her pillows. Carnal, smooth motions that, for once in all the times they'd been together, felt almost. . .empty.
"Do you want it harder?" he'd breathed and Marie had tossed her head side to side, toes curling.
"No, no. You're fine, you're good," she told him, and Stein rubbed his thumb over her hardened nipples, which made her jolt. It wasn't that they were doing anything different: it was just that with all the strange, stifling emotion in him, he couldn't get into it like he usually could.
It was like he was going through the motions. He leaned back slightly, clenching the muscles of his stomach so he could keep up his pace and Marie made little, quiet whimpers every time she rocked backward to meet his thrusts.
Stein moved his head around, letting it fall forward so he could look down from under his bangs while he rolled his hips. He stared at where they were joined, his cock slick with her, and the sight sparked pleasure up his spine, seeing her body accepting him inside. He moaned, taking his lip between his teeth.
Her golden hair was wild, flicked over her shoulder, and he felt something hitch in him when Marie shifted, spreading her legs out farther and flexing her spine. She supported herself on a single forearm so she could slide a hand between her legs.
It seemed she wanted more than he was giving her.
As she rubbed herself in time to his thrusting, her body throbbed around him, and he sucked in a harsh breath, pace faltering when he felt her fingers move from her clit, instead stroking what of him wasn't engulfed by her.
"Deeper," she directed, arching and pressing herself back onto him to take him in further. He brought the hand that was stimulating her nipples to join her own between her thighs, circling his hips and adjusting his angle so he was grinding in her, slowing down.
The change of speed seemed to helped, and he tilted his head to watch her face, satisfied when her mouth curved into a smile with a satisfied hum.
He was keeping his palm on the mattress as general leverage, but he was surprised when Marie turned her head to kiss at his wrist, up his pulse, to the hollow of his elbow. Her lips were soft, tender. It was such a delicate thing, the gentle brushing of her mouth over his arm.
She hadn't done anything like that before, and she pressed her cheek to flat of his arm, closing her eyes. Her eyelashes fluttered against his skin and he found that he wanted to look at her, to watch her face from more than just behind.
Maybe that was what the problem was. Maybe they just needed a change in position.
Maybe they just needed a change.
"Marie," he groaned out, stopping all his motion to instead wrap an arm around her waist, his fingers splaying across her side. She wiggled her hips, making a questioning noise as though to why he was taking a break before he gently pulled out of her and she turned her head to look at him from over her shoulder.
Yes. That was what the problem was.
He wanted to watch the way her mouth shaped his name, the way her cheeks would warm, the way she'd tilt her head back and bare her throat to him. He wanted her to press her face into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, set her palms on his shoulders and bite her nails in as she lost herself to him.
He didn't want to look at her back, at the side of her face.
Her harsh panting had regulated from the lack of motion, but he seemed to take her breath away when he dropped his head and set a kiss to her shoulder-blade, setting his cheek upon her back.
"F-Franken?" she asked, and he could feel the shake of her words through the skin she bared to him.
"Can you turn around?" he replied, and, confused, she tried to look over her shoulder once more, only to feel Stein shake his head, tightening his hold her her waist as though pressing her close to him before he let go and shuffled backward, giving her space. Her eyebrows came together slightly, and she felt her heart throb before she adjusted herself, feeling strangely exposed with him watching her with an unreadable expression on his face.
She didn't feel awkward for long, since he came over her, covering her body with his own. She tried to lock her gaze with his, but she found that he moved so close to her face, nose to nose with her, that she simply closed her eye, sharing breath with him. But he didn't kiss her. Instead, he ran his fingertips over the curve of her shoulder, down her arm, as though fascinated with her body, despite the fact that he had been having sex with her for years.
And all her feelings of being exposed morphed into something more like vulnerability, shuddering pleasantly at his ministrations. And for a moment, with her eye closed, she thought she could let herself pretend. He was touching her so sweetly, seemingly not trying to bring her to orgasm but to, instead, convey something of. . .affection? It didn't seem like him, but his nails brushed her thumb before his touch left, and she blinked her eye open to see the almost awe-struck expression on his face.
She had started panting, again, not even having realized it. But he wasn't doing anything necessarily orgasmic. He was just. . .touching her for the sake of touching her. And she knew she couldn't pretend, couldn't act like they were lovers, but in that moment, she also couldn't lie to herself and act as though she didn't want to be. She wanted him to keep doing touching her, to run his hand over all of her, and she arched up to him, bringing them chest to chest, thigh to thigh. She felt how hard he was against her belly, his erection, still slick from earlier, pressed to her, and she rolled her hips, wanting him. In too many ways.
When he pulled back, barely, his upper body still so close to her, in order to bring himself inside of her, she couldn't help but gasp, bringing her legs up and around his torso.
He didn't take the pace he had, before. Instead, he moved in slower, deeper thrusts, and each time he took himself almost all the way in, she sucked in a harsh breath against his mouth. She threw an arm around his neck, wanting to be closer to him. She wanted to be skin-to-skin with him everywhere, pressed into and onto one another. Her fingers tangled in his hair, her thighs hitching higher on his torso before she pushed their mouths together, her free hand roving down his back.
Her hands felt clumsy, like she didn't know what to do with them, like she was giddy and nervous. He took her lip between his teeth and reached up to cup her cheek, bumping their noses together. His thumb rubbed over her cheekbone as though soothingly, and when he pulled away for breath, he set his forehead against her own as he continued moving.
He was shaking with the effort, but Marie seemed to enjoy the new position more, and he was sure if he opened his eyes, he'd see that the flush on her face would be matched on her breasts and hips. He could feel how slick she was, how puffy. She bucked, meeting his thrusts and urging him to go faster, turning her head to the side while he kept going, hooking his chin over her shoulder and pressing his cheek to the side of her face.
Her body felt electric, her skin hot. She gasped into the air, her soft moaning accompanied by his own, and she muttered tatters of his name into his ear, voice tipping in had let go of her hold on his hair, wrapping one arm around his neck and the other clutching him about the torso, holding him close to her.
She didn't want to fuck him. She wanted to be with him. She wanted to be his and he hers, and she shuddered and whimpered out "Deeper", feeling like she was going to tip over an edge that she hadn't even known existed before. He tilted his hips, and he must have done something right because she buried her face against his shoulder, scratching down his back and muffling her encouragements into his skin. He kept rocking into her, bringing a hand to her scalp and holding the back of her head, holding her, cradling her body to him and molding them together. He felt her wail, as though it echoed in every piece of him, inside of him, shaking his ribcage. Torso to torso, every tremble she gave brought his nerves alive, and he felt all her muscles tensing, her body tightening around him as she came.
With her mouth to his flesh, he almost couldn't make out how she'd keened out "I love you!" She almost didn't realize that she said it, so caught up in her orgasm.
But she said it, and it seemed to echo.
He didn't even have it in him to muffle his embarrassingly loud moaning, something jolting in him in the best way, his toes curling, head spinning, barely understanding what he was saying, ("Oh God, Marie. Did you just-") before he came, too, clutching her like she was the only buoy and he were drowning.
He was shaking, hard, muscles trying to give out, but he had enough sense to hold himself up over her so she wouldn't be crushed. He nearly whimpered at how hyper-sensitive he was, how her walls were fluttering around him. It took a while for him to go soft, his breathing jagged, and Marie was still shaking when he carefully pulled out of her, chest heaving. She had turned her face away from him, and he breathed in harshly through his nose as he flopped to his side, tying off his condom and throwing it into the trashbin she kept by her bedside table. When he turned back to look at her, her hair was in her face and across her lips, and she wore a confused expression, her eye dazed and soft and shining.
He felt boneless and dizzy, watching her stare up at the ceiling as they both collected themselves.
". . .Marie?" he asked, voice harsh and jagged, but she only shook her head, slowly. When she seemed to bring herself together, coming to her side to face him, she was trembling so hard, he couldn't tell if it was the aftermath of her orgasm or the cold or something else entirely.
Stein swallowed, his mind clearing.
He suddenly felt like he couldn't breathe when she brought herself forward, curling against him and hiding her face from the world.
Hiding her face from him.
He felt her lips mouth something against his throat and he didn't understand any of it.
They didn't know how to do this.
He didn't know how to do this.
He carefully, hesitantly, set his palm on the top of her head, his fingers stroking her hair and she mouthed against his throat.
He swallowed again when she pressed a kiss, soft and watery and tender, to his skin.
And he didn't know what to do at all.
Come the next day, Marie gave off the vibe that she wanted to forget just how intimate they'd been, and Stein, though slightly concerned, respected that. He had to get his thoughts together, too. Besides, they were both so tired from lack of proper, uninterrupted sleep. And it wasn't as though they got a full night earlier, with or without Victoria's interruptions. Even Stein, who often doubled as an insomniac, had a bit of a hard time concentrating.
He didn't have work that day, a Sunday, so he dealt with Vicky in the morning while Marie slept in (he figured she could use it more than he could) and they mostly spent the day napping.
When it came time to eat, breakfast and lunch mostly consisted of grabbing whatever was in the fridge and remotely edible. Stein would offer to cook cup noodles, if that constituted as cooking.
Seven rolled by. Eight pm. At nine, Marie's stomach growled loud enough to hear over the loud music of Super Mario Kart and she paused the game, getting up and rummaging around next to the console for something.
"I need a shower," she announced, one of the few things she'd actually said all day, before throwing a random pizza menu to him. "Just get the usual."
He nodded, setting down the controller. Vicky was on his lap and he had to move her slightly to grab at his phone on the table, dialing the number with one hand as he crooked Victoria in his free arm.
Marie made her way off to take a blissful shower, knowing Stein had everything handled for the moment. She stopped on the stairs, however, just to take a few too many moments to stare at the scene. Stein, on her couch, in her living room, with five o'clock shadow and a baby, their fake baby, in his arm while he ordered food. It was just so beautifully, blissfully domestic. She could almost envision it being reality, being a truth.
It was something she thoroughly believed she couldn't have. Could she?
No, probably not. She knew she wouldn't make that first move. Not again. She tried making the first move years ago and it got her screwing her best friend and confused and painfully on the cusp of something for months and months.
She didn't want to be on the cusp. She despised cusps. She wanted to either be with him or be away from him.
Last night was just too much. He'd been gentle with her before and after sex. Clinical, at first, as though it was a business transaction, but three years softened him. But not like that. He'd never come to her with such soft kisses down her back, treated her body like it was precious.
His hands were never that adoring before.
She didn't have enough control over her facial features to hide the absolute yearning on her face. And it was that same yearning Stein got an eyeful of when he looked at her, wondering why she hadn't left for her shower yet. She covered it up with a quick, unconvincing smile before she turned, hiding herself from his gaze and making her way up the stairs and out of his sight.
He didn't know if that want was for the scene or for him. If it were for the scene, then he knew it was just a fantasy: pretend, practice for Marie, even. She could replace Stein with anyone and still have that hopeful look on her face. She loved children and families and the 2.5 kid, picket fence mentality so much.
A man like Stein didn't fit in with that illusion.
And yet there he was, a part of it. Because he wasn't stupid or disillusioned enough to believe he wasn't an important part of that fantasy.
Spirit used to tell him, years ago, to stop leading her on, but Marie had seemed fine with their arrangement, before.
Or, perhaps he had just decided not to see what parts of it she wasn't fine with. He understood that it couldn't go on like that forever. Marie would finish college in just one more year and she could teach English like she wanted, and he would keep going on in medical school. She'd want foundation, solidity. Him. Had wanted him for a long time.
And he wanted her. He'd wanted her for three years and she hadn't hurt him. What was he afraid of? Certainly not Marie, Marie who told him she loved him, Marie who bared her throat to him, her soul to him, Marie who opened her body to his hands, his mouth, to him. Marie, who he had a… fondness for. One he couldn't deny. Marie who he knew. Marie who he just flat out wanted to be with, who he didn't want to be without.
Marie who made him so damn happy.
It seemed so simple, laid out like that.
When she settled next to him on the couch after her shower, her hair smelling of something fruity, the pizza was on the table and he'd already set Victoria to sleep. It felt practiced and easy. Because it was, because they'd done this multiple times in the past.
Dates, he realised. He'd pretty much been dating Marie all that time without ever acknowledging it. Her.
She ate quietly: a peaceful, blissful, utterly tame silence, acting as though there was nothing to be said when there was everything to be said.
So, he guessed if she wasn't going to, he was.
"Marie?"
He absolutely wasn't emotional giving Vicky over. He didn't get accustomed to her. Spirit had downloaded an app, linked to the mechanical baby that graded Stein and Marie's parenting skills, so there was no need for them to wait, either. They could get their results and then be on their merry way instantly- the joys of the technological era, which was appreciated considering they had to be at the restaurant soon.
Despite both of them being eager to have a quiet, blissful night free of hellish wails, Marie held Victoria to her chest, walking a step behind Stein as if he were going to protect them both.
Hormones, no doubt. It was biology: an evolutionary trait, especially considering the new development in their relationship. He didn't like that he felt archaic, though, old fashioned.
Kind of like a cave-man: protect baby, protect baby-mama, go home for steak.
He needed a smoke but he forgot the pack in the pants he'd chucked somewhere last night and couldn't find in the morning. He yawned, arms draped across the back of the park bench, and Marie pinched his inner arm when she saw Spirit walking over to them, grinning. He let one of them drop down to his lap.
"Good job, guys!" Spirit said, holding hands out for Victoria without any hesitation, looking over his two friends. "You got a 92%."
Stein was amazed. He thought it would be far lower.
"92?"
"There was an incident during night two or three... she was jostled a lot, apparently."
Marie looked up at Stein. Ah. That would be when they had their version of hot-potato with Victoria.
"In any case, Kami doesn't like that it wasn't 100, but you know how she is. A warrior and a worrier." Spirit laughed, but stopped when he took in the position the two of them were in. The arm Stein kept draped across the bench shifted onto Marie's shoulders, which wasn't strange in of itself. It was that the arm that wasn't was stretched across so Marie could easily hold his hand once she didn't have Victoria to occupy them.
Stein. Holding hands. Voluntarily. Spirit stared at their linked fingers, and then looked at Stein's face in astonishment.
"Are you... you two... oh my god, finally."
"Fuck you, Spirit," Stein said, though it lacked any bite, and Marie giggled, leaning on her boyfriend.
The redhead laughed. "You guys are in the clear!" he told them, smiling. "I guess I'll talk to you later about babysitting details?"
Marie nodded. "Yep," she confirmed, but while Spirit went to walk away, deactivating Victoria as he went, she piped up again. "Oh, and thanks!"
He stopped in his tracks, looking over his shoulder and seeing the matching, knowing looks on the couple's face. Spirit grinned.
"No problem," he said, turning back around and walking off.
Stein got up with Marie, the two of them moseying back to his car while she was wrapping an arm around his waist and settling her hand into his back pocket. And, ahead, while the two of them were occupied with each other, Spirit sent his wife a text reading, simply: "It totally worked. I owe you $20."
Welcome to Resbang 2k15! Starting it off with, rather literally, a bang! To be absolutely honest, it's a little odd to know that Resbang is here after working on it for so long. This fic has gone through multiple drafts, multiple betas, and multiple stages of frustration, on my part. Yet, now, here it is.
Massive thanks go out to my main betas: Jcrycolr3wradcse and Crimson-Lia. Without them, this fic would be a pile of smoldering ash. It is through their encouragement that I could finish this, as well as finish my other 4 resbangs! Thank you guys so much! Also, heart-eyes at my last minute beta, Earth-Shines, who took the time to look over this behemoth, despite having multiple other fics to edit.
And massive MASSIVE thanks goes out to Fabulous Anima, who was not only another beta for this RomCom fluff, but also made the gorgeous cover illustration to go along with this fic, creating Victoria and bringing her to life in front of my eyes. Pleasepleaseplease support her over at FabulousAnima .tumblr .com. She has been an amazing Resbang Partner and a wonderful Mod, and I am so thankful that I got to work with her! The link to her art can be found here: fabulousanima .tumblr (dot com) post/ 134368586034 /biological-clock-resbang-2015-i-have-had-the
If you can't access it, feel free to pop me a message and I'll send you the link! Thank you for reading!