My Best Friend's Wedding
Disclaimer: This is the last real chapter, and I still don't own a thing.
AN: Hold on to your hats.
Warning: minor smut ahead. Nothing like my stuff on Tumblr, but there is a sex scene.
Chapter eighteen: Like Heaven Above
His couch is still as amazing as she remembers it, and she moves around a few times to get as comfortable as she can. Her call to Javert to tell him that she would be back at work on Monday went over pretty well. While the man has a very gruff exterior, she is always surprised at his sense of humor and the softness he usually hides.
"My boss has been notified," she tells her 'Jolras triumphantly as he returns from his brief exile into his room to unpack his stuff. "He is very nice about the whole thing."
Sometimes she wonders why Javert treats her so kindly, but then she remembers that one conversation that gave hints of him having a childhood that was very similar to hers – so he understands that her siblings mean everything to her and that she needed this week off to deal with her 'Jolras and her new family. They are her family now too.
"Do you need me to take you home?" he asks her then, and she feels hurt.
She knows that she is not wanted here – only, wait, he did not actually say that. She should really learn to stop putting words in his mouth and use her own instead.
"Do you want me to go?" she asks, scared at how much vulnerability she is showing.
"I want you to stay," he shows his vulnerable side as well, sitting down next to her on the couch of awesomeness. "I would love it if you would stay. With me. Tonight."
Somehow she gets that when he is asking her to stay the night with him, she can be sure that there will be more things happening between the two of them than just sleeping in the same bed. And she is completely okay with that, but she is a bit worried about him actually being ready for something like that. Still, she trusts him and she trusts that he will tell her if something is wrong or if he is not ready for something after all.
"I will take you up on that offer," she smiles at him, scooting a bit closer.
"Do you want to watch a movie first?" he asks, because it is only about eight o'clock and she is not yet tired – or ready for anything. "We have all night."
The comment is a bit ludicrous coming from him, and when their eyes meet, they both start laughing at how awkward and stupid they are making it all. They are basically in a relationship, and things should not be this complicated or this awkward.
"Only if I can officially call you mine," she counters his offer with a demand of her own, one that needs to be met for the two of them to proceed. "You can call me yours too."
That demand is followed by a lengthy silence, making her pretty scared that she has moved too fast for his comfort and that she has now ruined their nice night. But when she sees that he looks pensive rather than uncomfortable or disgusted, she is reassured that this will not be the reason why they cannot have nice things.
"I'd like that," he finally says, sounding pretty relieved.
"That was not too painful, was it?" she teases him, planting a quick kiss on his lips.
He barely responds to that kiss because he is too busy faking a terrifying glare for her benefit. They are both laughing as they break apart, because kissing him while he is making an exaggerated face is just really very odd. His mouth is not doing what his mouth is supposed to be doing, and all that she can do is giggle.
"That was weird," he says, trying to look serious, but failing.
"Your face is weird," she childishly responds, snuggling closer to him.
That seems to confuse him a bit at first, until he recognizes that it is one of those stupid jokes that he will not find nearly as funny as she finds it. The your face thing was a huge deal when she was in middle school and bullying was normal and casual and everything was replied to starting with 'your face'. She does not miss those days, but she does like to crack a silly joke in front of him to find out if he even knows it.
"You love this face," he teases her, lifting her chin with one finger.
"Maybe a little," she studies the face in question a bit more closely.
She traces the shapes and lines of his face with her fingers, as if she is trying to map out all of the mysteries that he still holds for her. Her fingers walk the path from his forehead to his ears to his nose, his mouth, and those adorable lines that he has – she has no idea why his nasolabial folds are so interesting, but it works for him. She traces his lips again, and when he kisses her fingers, she tries not to blush. It does not work.
"I love your face too," he tells her. "Not just your face, though."
Her vanity wants him to ask what else he loves about her, but the color red that is showing on his face tells her not to push him at this point. He seems almost embarrassed to have blurted out something like that, even though she considers it to be very romantic of him to say it. She smiles at him and keeps her mouth shut, letting him take the lead.
"We were going to watch a movie," he says, trying to distract them both.
"We could try Casablanca again," she starts, knowing she could tease him a bit more and hopefully make him respond in a lovely way, "but I doubt we will see any more of the movie this time around. I tend to get a bit distracted. I blame the couch."
Actually, she blames him and his face and his everything, but she is not going to say that because he would not take it the right way, and it would probably reveal way too much about the depth of her feelings for him – she does not want to scare him off. She is so scared of spooking him and doing something that he is not ready for that she is going to let him call all of the shots for a little while. Once they are a little bit more secure in this relationship she can fight him for control again – and he will enjoy it very much.
"I blame you," her 'Jolras surprises her yet again.
His response is not finished yet, though, because he leans in to her and plants a kiss on her lips that is so soft that she wonders if it actually happened. She pouts at him, wanting him to make the next move, trying to keep his attention on her lips. His eyes are indeed staring at her lips, and she can see hints of his tongue as he licks his own lips.
She wants him so fucking bad – but it's still his move.
"I am not even doing anything," she teases, his eyes still on her lips.
"That innocent act does not work on me," he smiles, moving ever closer to her.
They are basically only inches apart, and then he stops moving closer and stays completely still, frustrating her immensely because she is still waiting for him to make that crucial first move. Her heart is racing at the closeness, and now she is the one licking her lips in anticipation. Her stomach flutters, and still he does nothing. She tries to look him in the eyes, but they are too close for her to do so without getting seriously cross-eyed. She cannot guess his mood, and she cannot make a move.
"Just kiss me already," she is getting terribly impatient.
Still, he does not move an inch. She knows he is testing her in some stupid way, so she follows his lead and stays still, waiting for him to explain the rules.
"Say please," his voice is deeper than it was before.
"Please," she breathes as his fingers softly bring their faces together.
Finally her lips touch his in a proper kiss. He even dares to nibble on her lower lip a little, making her gasp and giving him entry into her mouth. His tongue has gotten more and more skilled since they started kissing each other all those weeks ago, and his kisses now make her weak in the knees. Her temperature is climbing and her skin is so sensitive already that she lets out a soft moan when his fingers find the nape of her neck and these nimble fingers caress her softly. Oh, please, 'Jolras!
"Gabriel," she pleads as they break apart.
He creates a bit more distance between the two of them, but she is no longer having any of that nonsense, so when she lays down to make herself more comfortable on the couch of awesomeness, she pulls him along with her so that he is now comfortably situated on top of her – their bodies touching from shoulder to thigh, at least.
"Hi," he stammers a bit awkwardly, trying to pull himself up.
"You are not crushing me," she tells him, hoping to make him stay put. "Please stay."
There is a moment where he hesitates, and her shallow breaths get faster and faster until he lowers himself back to his previous position. She tries to breathe more normally, but he is practically surrounding her – the scent and the feel of him are everywhere around her until she is covered in him. She never wants to move ever again.
"Are you sure this is okay?" he asks her, worrying about her like a big doofus.
"Is it okay for you?" she asks him instead of answering outright. "I like it very much."
Judging by the breaths she feels tickling near her face, he is having just as much trouble breathing steadily as she is. So, now that she knows this, she is going to make this even more of a challenge for him – by moving her hands under his red shirt, and placing them on his smooth and warm skin. She can feel his back muscles rippling under her hands before she feels him tense – everywhere. Her breathing is even more labored now.
"Ponine," he manages to stammer out her name.
She runs her hands up and down his back again, and when she starts using her nails, he slams his hips against hers, sending a lightning bolt of lust everywhere in her body.
"Oh," is the only verbal response she has to that.
The grin she sees on his face after that, while beautiful is not the thing that she actually notices the most. She can see that his eyes are darker than they were before – because his pupils are bigger, and she can feel that he is as turned on by this as she is.
"Fuck it," he breathes before kissing her again.
This time he is using his arms to press her as close to his body as she possibly can be – she doubts that there would be room for air to pass between the two of them. She tries to push herself up against him while he pushes down. He leans a little too much to the left though in trying to make her more comfortable, leaving the both of them to crash onto the floor. She is now on top, and he has gotten the breath knocked out of him.
"Are you okay?" is the first thing he asks when he is okay to speak.
"I had a pretty cushy landing," she teases, planting soft kisses on his jaw to try and heal whatever pain the fall from the couch of awesomeness might have caused him. "Are you okay? Do I need to kiss anything better for you? I mean, anything."
Her way to make sure that he understands that she does in fact mean anything is to run her hands down his chest and to make her destination clear before she even reaches it – his eyes widen as he finally seems to understand just what she means by anything. It really could be absolutely anything, and he appears to be tempted.
"You, I, anything," he stammers, and she knows his face has turned red again.
"Only if you want," she tries to put him at ease at least a little bit.
So, he might be a bit distracted from answering her by the fact that her hands are mighty close to the zipper on his pants – and mighty close to the erection tenting those same pants. She really cannot blame him for being distracted by it, but she has to look closely at him to notice that it is not just her closeness that is making him stammer so. He is freaking out about this, and she might have to give him a bit more space.
"I'm, maybe, I," he still is not able to form a sentence.
"We will see where things go," she smiles at him before nipping at his jaw a bit.
He lets out a soft groan and his hips rock against hers again as soon as she moves to his neck – so that is one of the sensitive areas that she has to pay attention to. She makes a mental note of that before repositioning herself a bit more so that she is actually straddling him on his living room floor. She has no objections to that position.
"I think things are going to the bedroom," he says, and she is stunned by that. "The floor is not as comfortable as it looks, and I'm not looking forward to falling off the couch again. So maybe we should get comfortable and see what happens."
She tries to climb off him gracefully, but she also has to sneak a very quick ass grab in there, because she is finally getting another chance for that. He pretends to be outraged at it, but the mirth sparkling in his eyes tells her a completely different story. Especially when he follows up his fake outrage with a pouty lip and a wordless demand for her to help him up off the floor. And he tries to get a good look at her breasts.
"Shall we?" she tries to create an alluring pose.
Her attempt is made foolish by her clothes being askew and the fact that she is only wearing the one shoe – she almost fell on her face and hoped he did not notice. She kicks off her remaining shoe and turns in the direction of his bedroom. This time, she will not find him apathetic in a corner, so she shoots him a sassy wink over her shoulder and hopes that he will follow her into the room where everything is going to change, if only they were ready for that. If only he would be ready for that – she still doubts it.
"Come on, big boy," she calls out over that same shoulder.
"Which movie are you trying to play out here?" he asks, following her into his bedroom.
The big bed has been made up perfectly, and she suspects that some of the time he claimed to have spent unpacking his suitcase has been spent trying to make this room look as perfect as it possibly can. She loves him a little bit more for that.
"Not one movie in particular," she sits down on the bed. "I'm trying to set the mood."
With the way he is looking at her, she would not be surprised if her clothes disappeared just because of the power of his gaze. So, to encourage him even further, she climbs further onto the bed, settling against the pillows and beckoning him with the crook of her finger, and hoping that he will come to her. She waits for him.
He follows her suggestion rather easily, climbing on the bed – doing that panther crawl move that she thought only famous actors could actually pull off without looking like complete idiots. Of course her 'Jolras can pull it off as well, and he makes it look very good as he crawls over her body so that his lips can meet hers again – and so that his body can press hers into the very lovely mattress. She pulls him closer again.
"The mood has been set," he is out of breath when they break apart.
That makes her giggle, but her laughter is over quickly – his mouth is over hers again and she can do nothing but slowly roll her hips against his and respond to yet another perfect kiss. Her stomach continues to flutter every single time he kisses her, and this time is no exception. The fluttering even continues when he moves his mouth to her jaw, and then to her neck and collarbone. There will be hickeys – she is proud of that.
His shirt is getting in the way of properly showing affection for him, so she yanks at the bottom, pulling it up until he gets the hint and he takes it off himself. She grins at the sight of his bare chest, because it is unexplored territory and she likes that she will be the only one to ever explore him like this. She can map the hills and valleys of his chest, his stomach and everywhere else that she wants to explore – because he is letting her.
"Equal opportunity stripping," he teases, pulling her shirt off in return.
She likes that he is starting to get more comfortable with himself, and that he is now letting his hands roam over her bra, playing with the straps and providing some lovely friction between her breasts and the material covering them. His hesitant explorations are distracting her from her own journey of his body, and the feelings are overwhelming her a little – and she likes it that way. Her body curves up into his before she can think about it too much, pushing her breasts closer to his face to get his attention.
"Please," she finds herself pleading with him again.
He freezes suddenly, fingers just millimeters from the clasp on her bra. She moves her body those few millimeters, letting him rest his long fingers on the clasp – hoping that he will take that as her permission and actually unhook the clasp.
Nothing happens though; he does not move a single muscle. So she simply has to undo the clasp herself, which is a trick she knows all too well – it does not take much effort if she does it right. A quick tug and the bra clasp is loose. She is left holding his hand to her now naked back and waiting for him to respond like he did before.
"I can't," he finally talks again.
His body is now separated from hers, as he lays down on his back next to her, and she has to debate if she just wants to put her shirt on and go to sleep. She turns to her side to face him, her bra almost falling off her and hopes that he will change his mind.
"What's wrong?" she asks him, trying to paint a tempting picture.
"I, I do not think I am ready for this right now," he speaks softly but strongly.
She feels her body trying to get rid of the excess excitement. There is no longer any kind of possibility for the two of them to proceed at this moment. If he says that he is not ready – and she believes that he is telling the truth about that – than she is going to stick to her word and give him space. She smiles at him before turning away.
"I am borrowing your shirt," she tells him, picking up his shirt instead of hers.
"I need to shower," he mutters, sitting up and getting off the bed quickly.
There is no real response to her shirt issue, so she pulls his shirt over her head – it is still warm from the heat of his body – and she drops her bra on the floor. He barely seems to notice what she is doing, busy as he is with trying to escape from this situation.
"Make it a cold one," she shouts out after his retreating back.
The door closes behind him and she wonders if they will ever get it right.
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Her eyes flutter open slowly when she feels him on top of her – her heart already racing at his closeness and her skin tight and hot.
Then he moves to kiss her neck, gently applying a bit of suction and nibbling at her soft skin, and it is so exciting and shows that he wants her. His mouth is hot on her skin and his lips are soft as they leave their brand on her skin – a brand that she will treasure and show off to everyone. Because that brand means he loves her enough to discard any thoughts of celibacy, and it means that he has lust as well as love for her.
It is not until his hands move to massage her breasts through his surprisingly comfortable shirt that she realizes that they might actually go through with this. He is actually on top of her, touching her and gently biting the skin near her collarbone – she is not dreaming and the thought of that is positively glorious.
"Gabe," she mutters, trying to shake herself into reality. "Gabe. Are you sure? Are you ready? Please tell me you're ready. Fuck!"
He is smiling down at her, nodding briefly before lowering his head and meeting her in a kiss. He is taking control, teasing her with his tongue and then making the kiss lighter when she tries to respond. He is so good at the teasing that she is writhing underneath him very quickly, pushing her hips into his and hoping he will just move and make her feel even better. The clothes she is wearing are too warm.
Her shirt is starting to soak with perspiration and she is just waiting for him to take it off already. She is so hot and her skin is tightening and the lightning bolts of lust running through her body are close to setting her on fire from the inside out.
When he does not appear to be getting the hint, and he merely touches her over the shirt again, she figures that she might as well take it off herself. She places her hands on the hem, ready to yank it off over her head when he stops her – and she worries that they have once again gone too far and that he is going to stop. She cannot handle this.
Then he is taking off the shirt – his shirt, the one that she is wearing – and they are both naked from the waist up. His eyes seem wider as he gets his first real look at her breasts, and when he seems scared to get closer, she puts his hands on them, hoping that he will get that hint and proceed to get her ever closer to that oh-so-tempting edge. So far, his only response is to make a spooked noise and to not move a single muscle.
His hands are still covering her breasts, and the slight weight is nice – but she is still hoping that he will eventually move. And then there is a reflexive twitch of his fingers right over her nipple and she feels it pebbling from his touch.
He gasps in surprise over that response, and like the curious guy he is, he tries it again, this time on both breasts. The heat that follows is so lovely that she presses herself into his hands, trying not to get so distracted that she loses her mind and goes too far.
"Oh," she breathes as he lowers his mouth to her chest.
Once again, he is surprisingly good at what he does, and the heat that is building inside of her distracts her from anything going on other than what he is doing. His warm breath is on her skin, alternating with hot kisses everywhere. She is too hot, so she kicks her pajama pants off herself and then brings her hands to the drawstring on his sweatpants and waits for him to get used to the feeling of her hands there.
And then she unties the string and pulls down the pants, taking advantage of the opportunity to get her hands on his ass for a little while. He has a great ass, and when she pulls his pants down over it she cops a little feel, making him smile.
He kicks off his pants, and now they are in front of each other with nothing on except for underwear. She is still stunned that he is not putting a stop to this, but she is not going to look that gift horse in the mouth. If there are any mouths involved, she would prefer for it to be his mouth, so she leans in once again and softly kisses him, trying to entice him to shed the final piece of clothing on his body. She lets him regain dominance over their kiss and she holds his ass to push their hips closer and closer together.
This is what all of the kids in high school call dry humping.
His hand comes in to play with the edges of her panties, going to explore previously hidden territory. Her breaths are ragged and her heart is pounding in her chest, because this just might be the day that it finally happens for them.
She finally decides to just yank her own panties of, and he quickly pushes down his boxers as well before his fingers go on another exploration and the heat continues to rise in her, and the lightning bolts of lust are threatening to liquefy her. Everything is heat and sex and love and she has never loved him more.
He turns out to be particularly good at teasing her, leaving her on the brink of ecstasy and then leaving her hanging for a little while. She sends him angry looks when he does it for the third time, and he goes to grab something from his bedside drawer. When she sees the familiar package in his hand, she smiles and grabs it – knowing that she is the most experienced at this. She does not want this thing to break.
"Are you sure?" she asks him when she opens the package.
"I'm ready," he tells her, quickly kissing her before she can respond.
So this will happen, and the thoughts of wonder are in the back of her mind as she slowly rolls the condom down his hard shaft. He moans at her touch, and she feels strong and desirable and she loves him.
Fuck! His magical fingers have found their new favorite spot again and she might be getting a bit distracted from whatever she was doing before. At least the condom is on.
He is on top of her again, and the heat from his hardness is so near to where it is supposed to be that she almost cannot take it. She just wants him to get inside her already, but once again she has to wait for him to make the first move.
"Please," she knows that her pleading is somewhat of a trigger for him.
She is proven right when he gently guides himself inside of her, as she slowly tries to accommodate him – it has been a long while for her, but it has been even longer for him, as he is just now losing his virginity. When he is fully inside her, he has trouble keeping his breathing steady, burying his face in her neck to try and regain control of himself.
The heavy breathing is still audible near to her ear, but she wants more of him right now, so she gently starts moving her hips, and that is making him gasp. He holds his hands on her hips, trying to make her stop moving, but she gently pushes his hands away, putting her hands on his hips instead to show him a rhythm that works for her. He has already found the angle that she likes, so now he just has to get that just like dancing, there is a rhythm in making love as well. Slow, but steady to start, and then faster and faster until they both lose their breath and tip over the edge into bliss.
Ah yes, he appears to get it, so instead of her hands on his hips, she can now wrap her legs around his waist and move along with him in almost perfect synch. They just keep getting better at this, but his movements get more erratic when she digs her nails into his back – he is hitting all of the good spots with every thrust.
"Fuck," he breathes on his very last thrust before he breaks apart.
She is not quite there yet, but that is perfectly okay. It is a first time, and it was silly of her to think that it would be perfect. She loves him and she has never been so close to him as she is now – that is enough for the moment.
"Did you?" he stammers as he tries to recover.
"It's fine," she reassures him, gently running her hands up and down his back.
A slow shiver rolls down her spine when he slowly pulls out of her – she would have been alright with keeping him inside of her for a longer time. She just wants to be close to him, and now that he is off her and taking off the condom, it feels like the distance between the two of them is back. She does not even care about her own orgasm.
But apparently he really does, because as soon as he has gotten rid of the condom, he brings those magic fingers out to play again. And his tongue is on her chest and moving down, and down, and down, and oh my God what is he doing?
Oh, she knows what he is doing, but she was in no way expecting this from him!
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Shit! Oh my – fuck!
"Gabe," she calls out as she finally tips over the edge.
When she comes back to earth, he is placing soft kisses all over her face. She is too busy wondering what the hell just happened to really think about where his mouth has been.
"Where did you even learn that?" she asks, still breathing heavy.
"I did research," he blushes as he gives that answer.
It is hilarious that he can still be so bashful when he had his tongue on her clit just minutes before. She smiles at him and cuddles into his side, not even caring about sweat and other bodily fluids at this point. She loves him, and they just made love.
"I think we're going to use that research a lot," she sits up against the headboard.
Shit, if this is how good he is the first time, they are going to have a bloody spectacular sex life – and that idea makes her very happy. They can make it together, especially now that they have shared something this special – for Pete's sake, she is the only person who has ever been this close to him. She is his one and only at this point.
"Was I good?" he asks, sounding so terribly unsure.
"I think the orgasm gave it away," she smirks proudly. "Yes, you were good."
There is a beatific smile on his face after she tells him that, and he leans in to quickly kiss her on the lips. Only what was meant to be a quick kiss turns into a brief interlude that turns into a prelude to something much more than a quick kiss.
"You are aiming for round two," she notices.
"Well, I did get several more condoms," he tries to sound casual.
She laughs, and he follows with a chuckle that grows into real laughter. Oh yes, they are going to make it through.
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When she wakes up the next morning, she is still very much naked and her Gabe is still in the bed beside her – also naked. Oh yes, their marathon sex was not a dream, and there are still at least three condoms in his bathroom wastebasket.
"Score," she mutters under her breath.
It is easy to snuggle into his side and hope that her actions and her words will not make him wake up – she does not want him to be awake just yet, because she knows that everything will change the minute he wakes up and realizes what has happened. He might do another 180 out of fear and confusion, and she is terrified that he might think that this night has been a mistake. That would ruin everything.
She is even more in love with him than she has ever been before, and it just might kill her if he changes his mind again. She loves him, and she is ready to be all-in in this relationship, and she just wants to be sure that he is still okay with everything now that his celibacy has been thrice denied – at least – in one night.
"Hey you," her Gabe is apparently already awake. "How are you feeling?"
His curls are messily spread out on the pillow, and she now finds his messy hair even more adorable than she did before – and she thought a limit had been reached with how intense her feelings for him could get. His eyes are bleary and only half-open, and his fingers are slowly running up and down her arm in a gesture that is both comforting and arousing. Every single time he touches her she remembers their night of passion.
"Sore as fuck," she tells him in response, stretching languidly.
"I'm sorry," he immediately apologizes, and he now looks seriously worried about her.
Every single move she makes is a reminder of the things she did last night, and because she never wants to forget this night, she is perfectly happy having the reminders in her muscles and branded on her skin. She has hickeys in places she has never had hickeys before, and she knows that she will be wearing a secretive Mona Lisa smile for days and weeks to come – because the man she loves is great in bed and they love each other.
"This is not a bad thing," she relishes in the feeling.
Another stretch on her side makes the covers drop from both of them, and she has to eye him up a bit more, even though she has touched and/or licked just about every inch of his body. He has his fair share of hickeys too – she certainly made sure of that.
This was a night she never wants to forget.
"Are you okay with this?" she has to ask him, because he was the one with doubts.
"Things have changed," he muses, and she wants to smack him for delaying the moment of truth yet again. "But I find that I don't have regrets. I felt very close to you."
Her breathing comes easier now, and she smiles at him, hoping that he will see it even though the angle is a bit off. They are now lying next to each other, both looking at the ceiling to keep from looking each other in the eye and revealing too much.
"You were not ready before," she has to bring this up, even though she just wants things to be happy between the two of them. "What changed between yesterday evening and the moment you woke me up in the middle of the night?"
That was a question he was not expecting from her, but she still has to ask it to make sure that he does not do another 180 because he was not ready after all. She just hopes that he really is sure about this relationship, and that he was sure of everything before he woke her up to make love. He has to be sure – because changing his mind now would be a really asshole move to make. He has already put celibacy behind him, she just wants him to be happy with that decision, and she wants to move on with him.
"I'm not sure I can explain it," he blushes and turns his face away.
"Well, try," she is getting frustrated with his hesitance. "You woke me up in the middle of the night, for sex, when just hours before you stopped us from doing it."
It was a completely abrupt change of heart for her – because she was asleep when this magical moment happened. She went from feeling rejected by him to waking up with his hands and mouth on her skin, and there was barely any time to adjust to the change.
"I don't want to sound like a creep," he starts, and now she is really curious about what he will say next. "But I watched you sleep. Now, it was just because I couldn't sleep. I was too busy thinking about why I stopped things before. And I realized that I don't know. I do care about you. I have feelings for you. And all the celibate thoughts in the world cannot stop me from being in love with you. I love you, Éponine."
If she was not actually in bed with him in this second, she might be doing a happy dance right at this very moment. Still, even though she is in bed with him, she briefly hugs herself before she dives on top of him, planting kisses all over his face and neck and shoulders – anywhere that she can reach, basically. Soon that turns into just absolutely everywhere, and she knows that there is definitely some morning wood ready for her to play with. He loves her, and they are finally going to be okay.
"Can I take that as a returning of my sentiments?" he asks in-between kisses.
"I love you too, doofus," she tells him finally, rolling her eyes at him.
At that moment, he smiles so widely that it looks as if he has coat hangers in the corners of his mouth, and she can finally see that he is as in love with her as she is with him. He smiles happily, and rewards her for that confession by slowly kissing a line from her jaw line to her chest and then lower, and even lower. She is breathless.
There is nothing in her life that has ever compared to this. She loves him and he loves her back, and she wants to kick herself for mooning over Marius for so long when she could have spent all that time with him. This feels nothing like the feelings she had when she was in love with the idea of Marius – or more accurately her ideal version of her former best friend. This is all encompassing, and it has changed her life for good – in both senses of that term. Even if Marius had eventually reciprocated, it never could have been as amazing as this. This is suspiciously meant to be.
"Let's try this thing called morning sex," she grabs hold of morning wood and smiles triumphantly as his breath gets labored and he stops kissing her.
"It sounds interesting," he can barely get the words out before he is back to the kissing.
She has created a monster!
AN: So, let me know your favorite parts of this final chapter.
Also, let me know where you see these two going after this – what you see happening in their future.