WARNING: there is adult content in this chapter so please read responsively. I haven't had to write many scene like this so i really hope i haven't stolen from the story with my surely rocky style. I hope you enjoy!
18: The Sailor
She lay before him, relaxed with a contented smile lazily painted across her sleeping face. His eyes followed the ivory and petal lines of her body, hovered in the dip of her collar bone, savored the soft curve of her hips, the secret between her thighs exposed to only him. Her hair was the mussed strands of night and her cheeks were flushed the color of a rose as it blossomed in snow, looking like she had been born from the mold that had once held Venus. He hardly noticed the cut and bruising on her temple.
The darkness of the room hid Reddington in its muffled shadows. The white of his t-shirt glowed in the weakness of the lonely street lights that shone on dutifully through the night, splashing the gloomy streets with their yellow puddles of light. A pair of cotton sweatpants hung to his hips and he was standing, his bare feet flat on the plush Persian rug. He had a glass of water clutched in his hand, yet he did not drink. Raymond watched, his mouth slightly open as he breathed, working his jaw ever so slightly with every passing thought.
Fear filled the man. Clawing and sharp for one moment, threatening to mount into ceaseless anxiety, and then it switched to heavy and dank, the stinking lowness of dread. A sickening roller coaster.
Raymond let a hand run over his face, up over his head, and then rest behind his neck, rubbing at the tightness that the fear brought. Elizabeth muttered in her sleep and turned over flat on her stomach, hugging a pillow under her head. The man felt a heat build inside his groin that betrayed him as he looked at the exposed dip in her back that rose to the provocative lines of her buttocks. Red clutched the glass tighter, resisting the urge to trail his fingers down her back and to lose himself in the hypnotic warmth and smoothness of Lizzie's skin. Red closed his eyes, but he could only see the way Elizabeth bit her lip when she allowed him to remove her clothes slowly, drawing out every tantalizing reveal of what she had hidden. In his hands he didn't feel the cold glass of water, he felt the warm swell of her breasts, and he remembered gently kneading and pinching in just the right moments, enough to elicit a soft, forbidden sound from Elizabeth's lips. He wanted her to climb on top of him once again, shamelessly rocking her hips, creating the friction and pleasure and heat he would now always crave whenever he looked at her.
He dreaded the moment she would wake up.
The fear once again filled him and Reddington turned away from her, moving to the living room and seating himself on the couch. He watched the condensation roll down the smooth glass and pool on the wood of the coffee table. He had not cared enough to put down a coaster. The sun was what Red was dreading, the light that would splash across Lizzie's face and gently wake her…gentle until the realization of what they had done crashed down on her perfect shoulders. Shock and regret would fill her, fill her up with the fire that he had come to recognize in her eyes. Elizabeth would hate him again, be disgusted by him, disdained by the fact that the sex had come so easily. Then the excuses would come. Raymond could already hear them slipping from her mouth in an embarrassed slurry.
"I was emotionally unstable." "The stress affected me." "I wasn't making good decisions."
And Reddington knew that he would apologize with his eyes averted and head hung low. Apologize and sputter along with her, stuffing down the swell of affection and hope he had inside his heart. He could practically hear his own voice quickly speaking with the feigned calmness that he himself hated sometimes. He took a sip of water, but it tasted bitter, so he set it back down and leaned back into the cushions of the sofa. The man fought the urge to close his eyes. He knew what images would find him in the darkness and was trying not to savor them as much as he already had.
Red heard the rustle of sheets and his head snapped to watch the door of the bedroom, the door slightly ajar and a dozing Lizzie inside. The breath hitched in the man's lungs and he could hear the low thud of his heartbeat pound in his ears. The rustling grew quiet and the seconds ticked by before Raymond allowed his body to relax back into the couch. The urge to let his eyelids flutter shut overwhelmed him and in the end, he could only weakly resist. Breath breezed past his lips in a sigh, Red's tongue feeling thickly coated in cotton. His eyes closed.
Raymond craved the woman that lay beyond that door, yet feared her, feared her more than anything he had faced in his entire life. The muscles of his jaw worked and the memory of feeling the woman's soft skin seeped into his lips. He could smell the musk of her body mixed with her perfume. The memory of the forbidden aroma that was hidden away beneath her clothes and lotions filled his nose like a heady potion, something he wished he could bottle away and hide. Behind his lids he could remember looking up at her from his place between the nakedness of her thighs, watching the way her smooth stomach flowed up to the mounds of her perfect breasts, swaying with the motion of her back arching upwards. The pleasure loosened the muscles in the woman's body and made Elizabeth graceful in the throes of her passion. Raymond had almost been stunned by her beauty.
She had gently laid her hands on the man's temples once the wave of her climax rolled to an end, and pulled back him up and over her body. Raymond supported himself by one arm, his hips resting on hers and one of her legs nestled between his and he knew she could feel the solidity of his manhood pressed against the muscles of her thigh. The tightness of his trousers was almost uncomfortable, yet he found pleasure in the friction from the grinding of their hips. She reached down and pulled out his dress shirt, unbuttoning the garment so quickly Red barely had time to react. When her hands were starting to pull at the hem of his undershirt, the man had found his voice.
"Don't," he remembered saying. "Please. Not the shirt." The darkness and husk of the man's voice was thickened by lust.
He remembered the way Elizabeth had nodded, understanding quickly without argument or question. Her hands went to his belt and he sat up on his knees, watching as she followed, kneeling upwards to kiss his lips while her hand slid easily past the waistband of his pants. With every stroke and caress of her hands and lips, Raymond's head tipped back and low moans escaped his mouth, his hand tangled in her hair.
The sex was good, slow, Lizzie's legs straddling his waist and moving to her own pace until he could hardly stand it, Red's hands clutching at her waist and he was looking up at her flushed face. Then they moved and Red took his place above her. He remembered feeling the strength of her legs around his body as she raised them before he trusted himself deep into her warmth. She buried her face in the crook of Raymond's neck and his eyes fluttered shut when he felt her mouth nipping and kissing the sensitive skin there.
By the time they were finished, they were both exhausted. Red remembered how she had fallen quickly to sleep, her body bare and laying on top of the sheets to escape the tangling heat that they had generated minutes before, her head resting on the cotton of Reddington's shirt. Red had lain on his back, one hand on Lizzie's head and the other resting flat on the bed. He was almost afraid to breathe, he didn't want to wake her. An hour passed like that before Elizabeth sleepily turned away and Red was still not asleep. That's when he carefully got up, slipped on some sweat pants, retrieved a glass of water, and returned to watch her sleep.
Now he was quietly sitting on the couch, remembering as much as he could, replaying everything in his mind like a movie on loop. There was a voice that found him, causing him to jolt upright and look around.
"Red?" Elizabeth was standing in the doorway, her hair a black mess and her body shamelessly naked, the skin an ivory glow in the weak streetlights.
His eyes betrayed him as they traveled up and down her sleek form. He again savored what had previously been a forbidden thought.
"What are you doing out here?" Elizabeth asked. She stood with her hip cocked, one leg relaxed, her arms slack and hanging by her sides.
Raymond's mouth had filled with cotton and he felt as if he were suffocating. He looked at her face now, waiting to see the realization of what they had just done. He waited until her common sense caught up with her, followed quickly by her shame, embarrassment, and disgust. He waited until the moment she would realize her bareness and quickly scurry to get dress, hiding the perfect form of her body, never to be seen again by his eyes.
Yet, nothing happened.
The bright sliver of hope filled the man, beating away the apprehension and fear.
"I…I was thirsty," Red said, looking at the glass in front of him, almost intently.
"Are you going to come back to bed?" she asked, cocking her head.
Raymond gazed up at her in surprise. Her eyes were clear and lucid and there was no insincerity to her voice, yet he could not move.
The dark angles of her brows knitted together with the furrow. "What's wrong?"
Reddington was disarmed and his jaw hung slackly. Outside, the darkness had started to weaken ever so slightly with the whispered rumors of morning. The changing glow made Elizabeth's skin glow. She looked like an angel in front of him…or a ghost.
"I'm waiting for your mind to change," he finally muttered. Lizzie almost had to lean forward to catch the man's low whisper and she thought of the way old wood groaned when beaten with the wind and rain.
Elizabeth was wondering if she had heard him correctly. "What?"
Reddington stood and sighed, cocking his head to the side and transfixed his gaze onto her face, finding the beauty in her eyes and cheekbones more desirable than the sensual smoothness of her legs or the perfection of her body. He spoke again, his eyes pleading, his hands actually outstretched before him, a man pleading yet nearly hopeless.
"Lizzie…" the way his voice murmured her name made the woman tremble, "I am afraid. I am afraid you will regret this. Regret me…." He scoffed hopelessly when he couldn't find the words and shook his head, trying to look anywhere else in the apartment. "I'm too old…"
The woman shook her head, "Be quiet about the age."
Reddington's gray-green eyes were narrowed in surprise and he regarded her.
"I am a criminal," he said after the slowly ticking seconds turned to a minute. "You said it yourself, Lizzie, I am a monster."
Agent Keen did not speak. Silence crushed his lungs and he turned. For some reason, the burning of tears stung on his face and the threat of crying made him shy away from her. There was so much of him that was unknown to her, buried away like some black, ugly thing that hid away and seeped into his core. He sucked in a breath and turned back to her, eyes wet and glassy, his jaw set.
"A boy was twelve years old when he started fantasizing about ships," he said, his voice quiet. "He loved the sea. Loved the way the salt clung to his skin…loved the way the waves crashed over rocks. He liked how big the waters were and imagined worlds across the blue. He imagined a place where the houses were quiet at night…a place where he wouldn't have to wear his brother's old clothes or hear the arguing of a forced marriage."
Elizabeth could see the emotion in Raymond's eyes and, for a fleeting moment, she barely recognized him. She could see the way his Adam's apple bobbed with nearly every word, forcing them out in a quiet rumble.
"He had nearly drowned once, got too close to the rocks and had slipped in. The current claimed him and he had scraped and bumped himself against the rough oyster shells and barnacles. When he was pulled out, the sky was gray and he remembered being cold. The salt…it had stung his throat and eyes and the little boy could barely see. But…as time passed, he saw who had saved him.
"It was a sailor. A member of the United States Navy. They had been on the boardwalk and had decided to walk along the shoreline a few miles to where it was where the boy liked to play. One had spotted him slip into the water and hurried to his rescue."
Raymond was quiet for a moment and Lizzie swore she could see the corners of his mouth tilt upwards. "He had seen super heroes before. Red the comics, seen the cartoons. Superman, the Fantastic Four, Aquaman…but he had always known they were fiction. Until that moment, as he was lying on his back in the itching sand and stone, coughing up brine and looking up at the gray sky, he thought that they were just stories, uninteresting stories at that. However, as the sailor talked him out of his coughing fit, the boy knew that superheroes existed and that they sailed on ships, big metal rigs that could hold many of them at one time. The Navy.
"The sailor brought the boy home to a very anxious mother and a father that stewed in his own indifference. She had explained that her son had protested against what was for dinner and ran away to the shore that he usually visited. Thinking it was just a tantrum, that mother had let him go, something she regretted for years. The little boy watched as the sailor tipped his white hat and gave him a smile before slipping off the porch and walking out of sight back towards the boardwalk."
Reddington paused, cycling his thoughts and trying to organize them.
"When the boy grew up, he joined the Naval Academy in Annapolis. Worked his ass off every long day and longer night. He ignored his bunkmates, his classmates, even possible friends that resided off base. There was no time for interactions, there was homework to do, charts to study, parade moves to memorize. Finally, after four long years, he graduated the top of his class. The world was full of oppurtunities...
"He met a girl…had some kids…" Raymond looked up at Elizabeth, this time forcing himself to meet her eyes. "…And then he ran away. Took his brilliant mind and used it to swindle…to steal and manipulate. To kill and destroy…."
The silence hung between them. Red permitted himself to take a few cautious steps towards her, forgetting about her nakedness and only watching her face.
"Sometimes I think about him, Lizzie…that sailor. I never got his name. I could've shook his hand in the service and not have even known it. Sometimes I wonder what he would think if he found out what have done with my life. Do you think he would've let me drown? Just another little boy on the wrong end of an accident?" The jaw worked in his agitated way. His next words were so quiet and full of pain that it made Elizabeth's heart pang with the threat of a crack.
"Some days I would've let me drown…."
"Raymond…" she said, reaching forward and resting the palms of her hands along his face. She kissed him and he clutched her so very tightly, his hands kneading her bare skin as his tongue found Lizzie's and he elicited a quiet moan from her. He pinned her against the wall, one of his hands pressed flat against the doorframe. Her own hands slipped from his face and looped down and rested at his hips.
"I would have saved you," she said when they had broken apart for air. The words felt stupid and cheesy but she saw the relief and gratitude in his eyes. He leaned in and kissed her more gently, his free hand stroking her hair and bringing her head down so he could press his lips against his forehead. Then they embraced before Red suggested they go back to sleep. The sun was still about an hour away from rising that the room had thick curtains that could be pulled over the windows and provide a few more hours of darkness. Elizabeth agreed and they climbed back into bed, Lizzie's head nestled against his chest and his arm looped around her.
So much time had passed before Elizabeth spoke that he thought she was asleep.
"I do not regret this," Elizabeth promised in the dark, "I am not embarrassed of us. I will be here in the morning. I will be holding on to you when you wake up, I will be here, Red."
"Thank you Lizzie," he murmured, the timbre of his voice humming in her ears. She felt the pressure of his kiss on the top of her head and his arms tightened around her before she drifted back to sleep.
She dreamt of the sea.
