I watch Tobias as he spars briefly with Uriah, demonstrating debilitating kicks and punches to the young Dauntless kids watching from outside the fighting ring. They seem so young and small; Choosing Day is coming soon and soon we will have new initiates in our headquarters. I wonder if that's how I looked to Tobias when I first joined. As if sensing my thoughts, Tobias glances over at me, his lips quirking in a small, teasing smile.

"Tris! Why don't you come demonstrate with me?"

Eyes and whispers follow me as I walk to the ring, my heart racing. I love being close to Tobias in any way—whether it's a brush of fingers, his lips pressing against my forehead, wrestling and sparring in the ring, everything about him makes my palms sweat and my heart jump.

Tobias' eyes never leave me as I step up and Uriah steps down, grinning at me.

"Speed can win over strength," Tobias instructs, circling me slowly. My muscles tense and I mirror his movements, watching the way he shifts his weight, anticipating his first strike. When he lunges, I duck and pivot, connecting my foot with the small of his back. I pull the kick so I don't hit him hard—it may leave a small bruise on him, but the impact against the strength of his back would ripple unpleasantly up my leg.

Tobias whips around, grabbing my leg and yanking me from my feet. I twist in mid-air and land on my palms, kicking back and connecting with Tobias' knee. I can feel him collapsing so I roll quickly away and spring to my feet. I step gently on his neck and he rolls over to grin up at me.

Tobias pushes my foot away to rise to his feet. "Speed can win," he repeats to the class. "Don't underestimate your opponent, no matter how small he or she may be." We step down from the ring as Uriah takes over again, calling out instructions and pairing up students.

"Are you done for the day?" I ask. His fingers lace through mine.

"All done." He confirms, looking down at me. A smile curves his lips. "Your fighting is getting better. You pulled your kick."

"You took it easy on me." I retort. When we turn the corner into the hallways, Tobias grabs hold of me, pushing me hard against a wall, his body pressing against mine, my arms trapped in his hands. His movements are so sudden I have barely time to squeak in surprise before his mouth is pressing against mine, his tongue tracing the line of my lips. My mouth opens eagerly under his and our tongues tease and sweep against each other.

I don't even realise that my arms are free until Tobias' hands are gripping my hips, his thumbs sweeping small circles across my stomach under my shirt. I shiver, wrapping my arms around his waist to press him closer to me. Every line of his body is flush against me, and I can feel the hardness of his erection pressing against my thighs.

A moan escapes my lips before I can stifle it. It feels so good to have him against me, and I suddenly crave privacy.

"Tobias," I murmur, breaking our kiss, "Not here." He pulls back from me, his breathing heavy, his cheeks pink and his eyes dark. He studies me for a moment before grabbing my hand. We quickstep through the winding corridors and Tobias lets go of me only to push open the door of the flat we share.

We've been here so many times, for sleep and for other, more intimate things, I shouldn't be nervous, but I am. Something about this moment feels different, charged with tension and anticipation. I want to take our intimacy to the next step but don't know how to communicate this without sounding childish and stupid. I don't even know what the next step is. I keep my mouth shut, instead running my hands over Tobias' arms, shoulders, chest. His muscles are hard and defined and everything about him sends shivers of heat through my body.

"Cold?" he asks, his breath mingling with mine. I shake my head and bring him toward me for a kiss. Slowly, Tobias walks backwards toward the bed and I stumble out of my shoes, right against his chest. He scoops me up and delight shoots through me at his strength. Tobias is the only person I can be vulnerable with and feel completely safe.

I breathe in his familiar scent—sweat, wind, male, and my head swims with desire. As he kneels on the bed, I press kisses over collarbone and the hollow of his throat. Without letting go, Tobias lays me down, his body pressing me into the mattress. I don't want to break contact, so I keep my arms wrapped around him. My legs spread of their own accord, cradling his body against the juncture of my thighs. He is hot and hard everywhere, and I can't help writhing against him. Desire is a wet throb and my body is craving Tobias' touch and skin against me.

His fingers find the hem of my shirt and as his hands mold themselves to my sides, sliding up my waist and ribs, my shirt climbs with his hands, up, up, up. Cool air brushes across my stomach, my ribs, my chest. I flush, struggling against a sudden surge of embarrassment. Tobias leans over my torso, kissing his way up to my breasts.

"Beautiful," he murmurs huskily, and I sigh shakily. It sounds true and believable coming from his mouth.

To cover my embarrassment, I tug at his shirt, pulling it up his body and over his head. Tobias mimics my motions and I squirm, letting him pull my shirt over my head. I tug him against me, more to hide my small chest, which I know is stupid since he's since it and me before. All the same, I want to cover up. The heat of his skin pressing against mine drags a low moan from my mouth, one that Tobias echoes, and our pace is suddenly quicker.

Tobias drags his hands down my body, his thumbs brushing over my nipples before grabbing hold of my hips, holding me firmly as we writhe and thrust against each other. My nails scrape against his shoulders and our tongues and teeth and lick and nip lips, jaws, throats, ears. Our breaths mingle so the panting is an echo in my ears, desire beating a demanding tattoo in my chest. My embarrassment is forgotten as pleasure courses through my veins. My limbs are heavy, my body feeling like hot tea has been poured through my veins.

I tug at Tobias' belt, fumbling with the button and zipper, my fingers clumsy with eagerness. When his pants loosen, desire pushes past my hesitation, urging me on. More, more. I've done this before, touched him before, and I hope he doesn't notice my shaking as I slide my hand into the front of his pants, cupping his hard, heavy length.

Tobias moans against my neck, his tongue tracing a line across my collarbone. My fingers wedge into the gap in the front of his boxers and stroke him. His fingers press against the front of my jeans, stroking through the denim. I am caught between desire and frustration, wanting this but wanting more. I don't know what more is, but I know I'm not ready for sex…not yet.

"Tobias," I start, and blush crimson. "I-I want you. I'm just not…ready…for…" my voice trails off as he lifts his head to look at me.

"Tris, we don't have to have sex. Only when you're ready." He pauses for a moment. "But there are other things we can do."

I've heard Dauntless girls talking in cryptic words about these things, but I have no idea what they are. And Abnegation was not a place for learning such things. I stare at Tobias uncomprehending.

"Like what?"

To my surprise, he reddens. "I-well, you…" his voice trails off, and he swallows. "Tell you what. Why don't I show you? If you don't like it, we can stop."

That seems fair. I nod, and he presses his mouth against mine. My hand is still cupping him, and I squeeze gently, start stroking again. After a minute, he shifts out of my grasp.

"Wait," he murmurs, "You first." His fingers are deft, more sure than mine, and he easily opens my pants and begins tugging them from my hips. I wish then for a little darkness, as the sun is still beating a warm, golden light through the window. Tobias makes appreciative, incoherent murmurs as his tongue and lips press against the skin he exposes, thigh to knee to shin to ankle. He stops, and I look down at him curiously. "You're safe with me," he reassures, and begins retracing his kisses up my legs.

I realise then that I am completely naked. No underwear, no bra, not even a necklace. I am completely exposed in the light, lying on top of our blanket, and shyness wars with pleasure, tinting my skin red from my roots to my feet.

Tobias' hands are massaging gently up my legs, stopping at my thighs, rubbing soothing patterns. I feel the faint tremors of his fingers, and it reassures me. He is as new to this as I am. Slowly, his tongue and mouth draw nearer to my centre, gentle kisses and licks that leave fire in their wake.

This is new. This we've never done. Apprehension builds even while I crave the intimacy that brings us closer together, a little world only we are part of that shuts out everything else for a short time.

Tobias' breath is hot against my skin, and I am completely aware of myself in this moment. Thoughts of my smell and taste and look race circles in my head. I close my eyes, my anxious breaths coming harsh in the silence.

Tobias is slow and gentle, giving me time to adjust and to protest. His fingers slide through my wet folds and I flex my toes, bracing myself for his touch.

I can do this. I am Dauntless. I am Divergent. I am brave and strong and powerful. I have jumped off buildings and people have shot at me. My own friend tried to kill me. Touching and kissing and skin—this is nothing comparatively. I can do this.

Softly, Tobias' fingers rub against my folds, teasing me, warming me, filling me with pleasure. This is comfortable and familiar, and he knows where and how to touch. I relax slightly under his touch, pretending that his face isn't near his fingers, that he isn't staring where before Tobias, I didn't even know such touches and intimacies existed.

I hear Tobias inhale and my head jerks up. His face is directly over the juncture of my thighs, and his eyes are closed. He looks like he is in heaven.

"What are you doing?" my voice is hoarse and shaky.

"You smell intoxicating," his eyes open and connect with mine. "You are so beautiful." His fingers slide through me again and my head drops back down to the bed. I hear him inhale again, and I can't—I can't, this is too much. I writhe under him, and he grips my hips firmly in his hands. My hand goes to his head to push him away.

I've jumped off buildings and been shot and almost killed. I jump from trains and throw knives, but this is more than all of that. This is too much. I am not Dauntless enough for this.

"Tobias, st—"

His mouth presses against me, and my moan cuts off my request. "Oh, god."

Suddenly, stopping him, pushing him away is the last thing I want. My fingers curl into his hair, keeping him in place. I can feel him smile against me but I don't care. I don't care that I am making incoherent, panting sounds that echo in the quiet of our room. I don't care that my moans are overlapping each other. I don't care that I am arching against Tobias' mouth and tongue. I don't care that I am spreading myself open to him. I don't care that I can hear the wet flicks of Tobias' tongue against me. I don't care that I am repeating his name over and over like a religious plea.

All I care about is the pleasure that is crashing through me, so bright and fierce that my muscles have seized in place, only intent on securing more of this, more of everything. All I care about is that this feeling keeps going on and on, and it does, spreading through every nerve, every vein, every artery until I am swollen with pleasure and weighted to the bed.

I just want more. And I don't want it to stop. But even as I think it, I know I am fighting a losing battle. I am shaking with the intensity of pleasure of Tobias' tongue flicking against me, moving up, quickening and firming, suckling and curling around the bundle of nerves that makes my back arch from the bed.

"Tobias," I cry loudly, hoarsely. Hs right hand grips my hip tightly and his left slides up my pelvis, my hip, my ribs until he reaches my breast. Gently, his hand cups me and his thumb and finger tweak my nipple, rolling it gently. The arrow of desire shoots straight to my core and I arch again, the ball of pleasure exploding in me, rocketing outward so I am consumed with sensation. My world is black and full of Tobias and pleasure, and I scream his name, writhing against the onslaught of pleasure.

Slowly, slowly, the pleasure gentles until my muscles can relax and I am starting to feel ticklish. I squirm away, gently pushing at Tobias' head so he shifts back, kissing the inside of my thigh. My eyes open and I blindly stare at the ceiling for a moment before I look down at Tobias, kneeling between my legs. His hair is mussed, his eyes glitter brightly, his cheeks are flushed, and his chest rises rapidly as he pants.

His boxers are tight and tented and I beckon him up to me. He slides up along my body and I kiss him gently on the mouth. His eyes search mine questioningly, and I smile shyly.

"You are so beautiful, Tris," he whispers. "Seeing you like that, knowing I can give that to you, it makes me feel so good, so powerful." He shudders, and I want now more than anything to make him feel like I did. I grip his shoulders and push him to the side, rolling with him so I am straddling his hips. I kiss him briefly again then wriggle my way down his body to his boxers.

When my fingers hook into the waistband, his hands fly to my wrists. "Wait, Tris—I didn't say that so you would—so you…you don't have to—"

I tug on his boxers, ignoring his hands. "I know. I want to. Let me make you feel like you made me feel. If you want me to."

We stare at each other for a moment before his hands relax. "Of course I want—I just don't want you to feel like you have to."

"Tobias. I want to." I tug again gently at his boxers, and this time he lets me. They slide easily down with his pants, and I pull them down his muscular thighs, calves, over his feet and then push them off the bed. My breath catches as I see him fully, completely naked for the first time. He is breathtaking. Perfect. And he is mine.

His eyes are closed when I glance up at his face, his fingers clutched into fists in the sheets. That makes it easier. I really have no idea what I'm doing, only that my mouth is somehow there…involved. I am intrigued more than anything, and I kneel between his knees, gripping his erection again in my fist. Gently, I stroke up and down and Tobias shifts on the bed. His lips part with quickening breaths.

I stare down at him, at this most intimate piece of him, and am fascinated with the shape and colour. There are veins running from base to tip, though the tip is shiny and smoother than the shaft. There is a line of skin on the underside, splitting him directly in half. Working up my nerve, I lean down and run my tongue up the line, up the tip, tracing the mushroom-like shape with my tongue. Tobias groans loudly, his hips arching.

I have no idea what I'm doing. But if Tobias can do this to me, I can do this to him. Unsure, I circle the tip of him in my mouth, sucking lightly and licking him with my tongue.

"Tris," my name falls from his mouth, and I take it to mean that what I'm doing is good. Slowly, cautiously, I take more of him in my mouth, remembering to keep stroking, trying to remember to use my tongue all at the same time. This is a lot more complicated than I thought.

As I find a rhythm, I listen intently to Tobias' moans and breaths, intuitively responding to what makes him moan, makes his hips arch. My jaw muscles are unfamiliar with the movements and they slowly start tiring, but hearing Tobias moan at my touch, feeling his muscles bunch and tense, tasting and smelling his desire, it's…thrilling. Intoxicating. Empowering.

I push away the fatigue and quicken my movements, a little more eagerly now, my confidence growing. Tobias shifts restlessly beneath me and I recognise the pitch of his gasps and moans. I move my head up and down, following my hand in its quick movements, my tongue stroking and flicking and rubbing.

Tobias is hardening even more in my mouth and it's like gripping a steel rod, burning up with desire.

"Tris," Tobias moans again. His hand goes to my head, his fingers slipping into my hair. "Don't. I'm going to—"

I don't know what to expect from this, but I'm not going to pull away now. I brush his hand away and firm my tongue. Tobias shudders beneath me and moans loudly, harshly. His hips arch fiercely and I have to tighten my grip. He is pulsing in my mouth and warm bursts of liquid fill my mouth. It is musky and slightly sweet, viscous and not entirely unpleasant. I swallow and keep licking and sucking until Tobias' shudders slow. His hand gently pushes against my head. Understanding, I pull away and look at him. His eyes are half-closed , his cheeks painted pink with blood flush.

I can't help it. I smile. Power is thrilling through me. Tobias smiles back, shyly, and pulls me to him. I snuggle up to his side, our bodies exposed and vulnerable, pressing against each other. Tobias shifts until he can pull the blanket over us, cocooning us in warmth that smells like desire and intimacy and comfort.

"I like that I can make you feel like that," I murmur against his neck, echoing his words. He turns his head, pressing his lips against my forehead. "It makes me feel powerful, and so good."

My hand finds his heartbeat, and his hand covers mine as we relax together, reveling in this new intimacy. After a minute, Tobias rolls to his side, facing me, and our lips meet in a gentle, lingering kiss.

"I love you," he says, and this is a different kind of thrill.

"I love you," I say. And this moment is perfect.