A/N; So...yeah...I'm not sure what to say about this one.
(Whispers) This story IS rated M...
Thursday & T(h)rust
He was up too early as he couldn't stay asleep, his mind preoccupied with the previous night's...events, the images seeping into his dreams.
There were morning woods and then there were morning houses.
Today there was a morning tower.
Last night had been completely torturous yet indescribably amazing.
He still couldn't believe that he had managed to walk away from her.
That was a miracle of epic proportions.
The ninth wonder of the world, even. (She was the eighth. Duh).
He was ridiculously nervous while walking down to her floor. He knew, that in difference from a few days ago, she had been sober last night, but he still had no clue as to what her state of mind was as of this morning.
He knocked on her door, softly, soon regretting his decision to go there so early as she didn't respond and he realized that she might still be asleep.
He was about to walk away when the door cracked open.
"I woke you up?"
She smiled. That was a good sign, right? "Guess so."
Funny how much good sleep she was getting as of late.
"Sorry."
"Don't be."
She couldn't think of a better way to start her day. Well, except for maybe waking up with him already in her bed.
That had been pretty amazing.
His hair was still ruffled, he was wearing some old wrinkled t-shirt and he looked like he had just gotten out of bed. Which she guessed made sense as he probably had.
And yet she couldn't stop staring.
He was...he was he.
And it was a good thing.
Such a good thing.
Maybe even the best.
His whole body relaxed as he realized that she looked...happy? He couldn't be quite sure.
"Want to come in?" and he nodded, almost shyly as she opened the door wide.
Shit.
She was wearing those damn teeny tiny sleep shorts again.
Good thing he had had a full night to recharge his willpower. And good thing he didn't get to see those the night before.
Because shit.
He took a seat on the pink cheetah. Reluctantly so, but there were nowhere else to sit except for her bed and he needed to stay out of that area before he turned it into another crime scene.
The material felt as weird as he had anticipated. Possibly weirder.
She mirrored his actions on her own bed, soon sitting Indian style on top of her not yet made bed comforter.
"So, I...I think..I..."
"So maybe we should..."
"Sorry. Go ahead. Ladies first".
Sometimes it was convenient to have been raised a gentleman.
Well, sort of.
Whatever.
He desperately wanted to hear what she had to say before he made a fool out of himself.
She swallowed hard. Why was she so self-conscious all of a sudden? Right, cause now there were damn feelings involved.
Crap.
"Look, yesterday was...awesome." She shook her head at the lack of appropriate wording. She didn't usually struggle with words, but the only other one that came to mind, 'heavenly', just didn't seem to fit into every day conversation.
All of a sudden, by his side, she was tongue tied.
He hesitated. "So no...regrets?" He was almost holding his breath.
"No regrets, it was...fun. And that's what spring break is all about, right?"
She was blushing and he could tell that she was growing uncomfortable.
"It sure is."
"I just...I'm not sure...let's...let's go slow, ok?" She sounded nervous.
He would rather walk slowly with her than running with anyone else. Shit, he was even willing to stand still or walk backwards as long as she was right there next to him.
"You got it". Was she able to detect the utter joy in his voice? Probably.
"So...can we start with a slow breakfast? I'm kind of over the cereal." She nodded.
"Sure, as long as I get to pick the place."
"Fine. But then I'm driving. I would like to eat breakfast before it's time for dinner".
She stuck her tongue out him for making fun of her slow driving habits.
Although he might have a point.
...
They pulled up in front of a small bookshop that he didn't recognize, most likely so due to the fact that he never went to bookstores. Not that he didn't want to. He just never had the time.
He raised an eyebrow at her. "As much as I love books, I'm freaking starving. Please tell me that they sell something to eat. "
She looked at him as if he was a fool.
He was.
A fool in love.
She ceremoniously opened the door for him. "Welcome to my...oasis. This is where I replenish and breath. And most importantly, read. It's my place to vicariously and momentarily live other people's dreams. And they have amazing food."
They were walking towards the small cafe area, a few scattered tables spread out in the by sunlight lit up, open space, soon ordering some breakfast from the bored cashier.
"What about your own?"
"Food? I'm not a great cook, despite that mindblowing dinner I cooked for you the other night. Sorry to break it to you, but that's my one specialty."
"I meant...dreams. Don't you want to create your own, and then live them?"
"I am. Sort of. I mean...I'm writing a novel."
She had never told anyone that before.
Why was he surprised? Of course she was writing a book.
Because she was freaking amazing.
He knew better than to ask her what the novel was about.
"How about living your dreams?"
"I...I don't really know what my dream is. I think I used to know it, but nowadays, I'm kind of terrified of dreaming. It's too easy for someone else to sweep in and steal your dream away, you know?."
Yep. All of him was hurting.
The food was delivered to the table.
"So, do you come here often?" She nodded as her mouth was full of food. She swallowed.
"Yeah. But usually by myself. I...I'm enjoying the company, though".
Drummer on ecstasy.
They dug in. The food was amazing. She had been correct.
He finished quickly, then rubbing his stomach as if he had just swallowed the Little Red Riding Hood.
"That was good." Wolfish grin.
"Told ya. Is it wrong that I almost miss the cafeteria, though?" She did. Untasty food, excessive loudness and impromptu food-eating competitions and all.
"Well, they'll be back open on Sunday afternoon. We'll go together?"
She nodded.
"Good, it's a date".
He waited for her to freeze or correct him.
But she didn't.
He observed her as she finished eating. He enjoyed it, for some reason. Enjoyed her.
"Pickle, how slow is slow?" He had to ask. He was terrified of getting a speeding ticket that he couldn't afford to pay.
She was thinking. For a while. As if she knew the answer but just couldn't recall it.
He impatiently interrupted her journey into long-term memory.
"Can I take you on a date-date?"
She nodded and his heart exploded.
Not literally.
"Tonight?"
She shook her head. "The Bar? Karaoke? Meeting with Jimmy? Does any of it ring a bell?"
Right. Damn it. Any other day he would have been ecstatic at the prospect of singing or performing.
He thought for a few seconds.
"Then how about right now?"
A day date. Those were usually reserved for friends, but he didn't mind. It was actually kind of fitting for them. It wasn't necessarily traditional, but so far, their relationship or whatever it was hadn't been either.
She looked surprised but nodded, a light blush spreading on her face.
"But I...I didn't dress up or anything."
Was it wrong to tell her that he hadn't even noticed what she was wearing? He had been to busy imagining her not wearing anything.
"I...you look beautiful. As always."
Was it wrong that he thoroughly enjoyed making her blush? And that he currently was visualizing a dozen other ways of making her do so?
Good. God.
She nodded. "Ok. But you should know that I don't smooch on the first date."
Was it wrong that he wanted to do much more than smooch her?
"Neither do I. And if you call it that again you may never get to kiss me".
He smacked his lips together and blew her an air kiss across the table.
...
The movie theatre was close to empty, not surprisingly so as it was midday, on a Thursday, and it was a beautiful day outside.
She picked the movie, based on the fair and accurate reasoning that he had made her watch a bunch of his old movies the previous day.
At the concession stand, they argued over the benefits of popcorn versus nachos, until he defeatedly bought both and then ended up eating most of her popcorn anyways.
She had been right. The cheese did taste like melted plastic.
He didn't enjoy the movie as much a the company, but he enjoyed the company enough to be willing to stay in the dark, almost-empty saloon for at least a few years.
They reached for the popcorn at a matching rate, their fingers touching and lingering numerous times, until they simply ended up holding hands.
Slow.
Right.
Hard to do when his mind was racing.
And in the dark, close to empty movie theatre, his hand intertwined with hers, he did the best thinking he had done all week.
All year.
It was simple, really.
He had been wrong.
There was no difficult decision to be made.
No excessive thinking necessary.
His choice was crystal clear and diamond solid.
Basketball was easy, fun, predictable.
He knew he was good at it.
And at times he did love it.
Basketball was Cassidy.
It had been a good run. Lots of fun. But he was ready to say goodbye.
Music, on the other hand, was fun but difficult, very unpredictable.
He was often unsure of whether he was good at it.
But he loved it always and unconditionally.
Music was Pickle.
She was his music. He didn't just love it, he lived it. Lived for it.
It made him happy, alive. Just like her.
When he was with her, together was simply not close enough.
He wanted to breath her.
If he had been asthmatic, she would have been his inhaler.
A sexy-as-fuck inhaler.
He had never before felt anything like it.
It was scary as hell, because the one thing that kept him breathing was also the one thing that could instantly take his breath away.
But he didn't ever ever want to say goodbye.
He reached for her and kissed her, overcome by his own emotions, smooching her like there was no tomorrow, half expecting a slap in the face that thankfully never came.
They made out, slowly, unhurriedly, lengthily, hands still intertwined, until the movie was over and none of them could recall how it ended.
Did he want to fuck her senseless in the dark room?
Yes. Yes he did.
But he was pretty sure that that didn't meet her criteria for slow.
...
The bar was the busiest she had seen all week and she was grateful that she wasn't working. Kira and the other bartender seemed to have their hands full.
Jimmy greeted them like his own, long-lost children.
"So, you guys are singing Kareoke, right?"
He nodded and she shook her head, vigorously.
"We are." He sounded confident.
"We are not, you are". She did not.
"At least one song. Come on. I double dare you."
"Oh, yeah, now I have to do it."
"Fine. Tell me what I have to do to make you do it". He was serious.
She was thinking for 10 seconds, tops.
"If I do it, you will quit the basketball team".
He smiled. That decision had already been made. He just hadn't told her yet.
"Fine. And if you don't, if you chicken out, I get to read your notebook."
They shook hands.
He walked away to have a quick meeting with Jimmy, and she wandered off towards the busy bar.
"Give me a shot. No tequila."
Kira raised an eyebrow.
"Rough night?"
She shook her head. "No. But if I'm going to sing a damn song with him, I need some liquid confidence. I don't dance or sing in front of people under sober conditions. Just one shot, though."
Kira smiled and lined up two small glasses in front of her.
"One for the dancing and one for the singing".
She swept both in less than a minute, at first wincing at the taste of the golden-brown liquid, but soon feeling the alcohol-induced warmth spreading throughout her body.
Good.
He returned, smiling. The meeting must have gone well.
She smiled as his was contagious.
"Take another shot with me."
Kira lined up three glasses in front of him. "You have some catching up to do."
He shrugged and reached for the first one. What else could he do? He wasn't going to let her get drunk all by herself.
He was a gentleman, after all.
...
He sang the first song by himself, as she was standing in the front of the stage, slowly swaying her body almost in rhythm to the music. Liquid confidence at work.
He finished, to ear-deafening applause, and came off stage as she hugged him, tight.
"I'm your groupie". She was giggling.
"Don't say that."
"You don't want me to be?" Innocent eyes.
"More than anything. But I don't think you know just what that entails", his nose running along her neck, his voice a sensual whisper in her ear.
He lingered for just a second too long.
"Oh, I do know." Her eyes were now meeting his, teasingly.
"Alright, Penny Lane, all you have to do is say 'please', and I will take you up against that freaking wall over there."
"I'll remember that", and she let her tongue run down his neck before turning around and walking towards the bar.
She enjoyed teasing him. And she did want to be his groupie. His only groupie. With absolutely all that it would entail.
Fast was the new slow, anyways.
A few songs later, and it was their turn.
They walked up on the stage together, and if she was nervous, she didn't let on.
They sang together and if anyone would ask him what song they had performed, he would have had to make something up because all he could remember was the look of pure and unadulterated happiness on her face.
It was a beautiful, slow song, their voices mixing in perfect harmony as the words echoed in the packed room, her reflecting of the truth of the lyrics.
Guess I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all.
And she knew things had changed, she had changed, because a week ago, she would have disagreed with that statement, but now, it was her truth.
She wouldn't change her current emotions for even a second of non-feeling.
And I don't know how i can do without
I just need you now.
Yep. True true true.
Oh, baby, I need you now.
This song was life.
Their eyes interlocked as the last note finished, and the clapping audience was the only thing that kept him from going 90 in a school zone and rip off her clothes right there on stage.
They walked off, still engaged in a staring contest as the applause went from not just deafening but ear drum breaking.
"Come back tomorrow, I want you guys to perform together. Whatever you want. Covers. Your own songs. You name it. Full set." Jimmy's voice startled her and made her lose the contest.
Just as well.
She was already losing her mind.
They stuck around for a few additional performances, before he nodded towards the door with a questioning look on his face.
She nodded, soon realizing that she had driven, not anticipating the few shots, and she knew she shouldn't be driving back.
As if he had read her thoughts, he embraced her. "Let's walk back."
She kicked off her high-heeled shoes and nodded in agreement as they exited the bar.
...
It was a relatively chilly night, considering their location, and she realized that she was still a little drunk. Not too drunk, not mindless drunk, just relaxed drunk.
Her mind was working, just a little less dominantly than normally.
Her hand was in his and his heart was in hers, her shoes dangling from her other as they walked in the quiet night.
They enjoyed a few minutes of silence, their ears still ringing from the noise level at the bar.
All of a sudden, he had this craving, like he wanted to get to know her, well get to know her better.
"So, truth or dare?"
She giggled. "Truth". Dares would undoubtedly get her into trouble.
"When we're you the happiest ever?"
What an amazing question. She had expected him to ask something juvenile or sexual.
She hesitated as she tried to find the answer. Was this exact moment an option? Walking, barefoot, carefree, as if there was nothing or no one else in the world that mattered more than him and her.
Perfection.
She realized that if today, yesterday and every day since she met him were answers A, B, and C on this improvised multiple choice test, her answer would have to be D.
All of the above.
"I...I'm still trying to figure out what happiness means to me". It was an honest answer. All she really knew was that he was to be involved in it, somehow.
He nodded. "So, do you think you'll ever believe in love again?"
"Isn't it my turn to ask you something?"
"Hush. Now answer or I will dare you to do something I've been wanting to do all night".
"What was the question again?"
He stopped and eye darted her.
"When will you believe in love again?"
"Austin...I...the love part I think...I mean...I'm pretty sure I do believe in that. It's not really like you choose it anyways. It's the trust... I, I'm not sure...I'm kind of messed up and I don't know how long it will take before I'm ready for anything serious again."
He nodded, not knowing what to say, surprised at her honesty.
So he may be well on his way to steal her heart, but he now had to find a way to break into the vault hosting her trust. It would be difficult, he knew that, as he was unsure of the exact location of it and had absolutely no training in nor experience of the correct methods for such a coup. And to make matters worse, somebody else, Dall-ass, had selfishly used up most of her stash.
But he was going to do it anyways.
One way or another.
"Now, it's too late for philosophical crap. Just ask me the usual, predictable, sexual questions and get it over with. I know you want to."
He smirked. "Favorite sexual position?"
"I guess thats for you to find out." Now she was the one smirking.
Hard.
Slow. Slow slow slow.
They were about ten minutes away from the dorm when the rain ambushed them. It came out of nowhere and startled them both.
It was Spring Break.
In Florida.
It wasn't supposed to rain.
"I really wish we had an umbrella", and she was laughing as the large rain drops splattered down her face as he gave her a weird look.
Almost as if he was scared.
They ran and took cover under a large tree, him holding her as she was shivering, not just from the rain.
Oh, he liked to make her shiver shiver.
And when she was close to him he shivered.
As he lost the feeling in his fingertips.
She looked at him, and his eyes, golden-brown like the whiskey she had flowing through her veins, were piercing hers, making her feel almost as if he was flowing through her.
It was amazing to her how he seemed to see right into her core, and even more amazing that he seemed to like what he saw.
His white t-shirt was sticking to his body like a second skin, she could see the outline of his defined abs and, fuck, she wanted to lick him. His wet hair was demanding to be pulled, the raindrops sticking to his long eyelashes like morning dew on leaves, beautiful, and she knew she was imagining things but she swore she could almost see his heart beating out of his chest.
She knew he wouldn't have to steal her heart, she was seconds away from willingly handing it to him, on a silver platter, had it not been that he already was in possession of, if not the whole thing, at least a majority of it.
Suddenly, not just her mind but her life was grey, as if she was stuck in an old movie, the color ranging in shades from light to as dark as the rain heavy clouds in the night sky above. If she looked closely, there might even be 50 different shades of grey.
Her make-up had smeared, and he was involuntarily reminded of the first time they'd met. It was hard to believe that this smiling woman was the same girl that he had met in the girl floor pantry 5 days ago. Shit, it had only been 5 days.
The best 5 days of his life.
And he kissed her because God damn it how could he not, and as they were making out under the big tree, in the pouring rain, their mouths wetter than the ground below, she knew that he was no superman but he was undoubtedly changing her world, and despite their soaked clothes and the unusually cold spring night, they both knew that it didn't get better than this.
The rain turned into a drizzle, after who knows how long, and they walked back to the dorm, at her preferred speed, slow, both of them drenched, her in more places than one.
He must have been rubbing up on her, because all of a sudden she wanted to speed.
And she ran the last few hundred yards to the dorm.
...
He walked her to her room, because he was, wait for it, a...gentleman.
"I'm going to take a shower". He nodded.
"Good night, Pickle", a soft, restrained kiss on her cheek before he turned and walked away.
"Austin, I...I might need some help to clean my back..."
He turned around and looked at her in disbelief, not answering as he was apparently hearing things. Damn whiskey. He hadn't known that he was that drunk.
"I...join me in the shower."
As if he wasn't.
His heart was bouncing, almost as if he failed to slow down when driving over a big, partially hidden speed bump.
The emotions were the same.
Scared, surprised, thrilled.
He swallowed hard. He could do this. He could shower with her while staying within the speed limit.
She grabbed a couple of towels from her room, then leading the way to the showers.
She turned it on, the steam from the warm water shooting up into the air, filling the stall before she got undressed.
"No peeking. Close your eyes". And he complied.
Not 10 seconds later, her mouth was on his, her hands running over his wet clothes and removing them piece by piece before stepping into the hot water, pulling him with her.
She was naked. In front of him. And he no longer had a brain and he was about to lose his license.
The tower from earlier this morning was back. It seemed that a few extra levels had been added during the day.
He kissed her, or maybe molested her mouth, he wasn't sure.
And then she decided to explore the tower, maybe she was interested in the view, and he couldn't remember where he was as the sensation of her touching him overtook his world. It was the best hand-job he had ever had and it had yet only lasted for a few seconds. And at this rate, it would only last a few seconds longer.
Shit.
His hands were on her, his fingers in her, and yes, it was going too fast and yes, he clearly hadn't learned his lesson, but shit, she was his one weakness and his tank of willpower was not just low but fucking empty and to top it all off, it seemed as if she had lost her gas card, too, or maybe her breaks weren't working correctly, because she wasn't stopping him and there was no way he was going to unless she asked him.
She leaned in and whispered something in his ear, a loud whisper, one simple word.
He expected STOP.
"Please."
And then he took her up against the shower stall wall.
It may not be as romantic as he had wanted, nor as sweet, and he made a quiet promise to himself that he was going to do it right.
Next time.
This time was raw and needy and amazing and he knew that the possibility of another stint in the prison of shame was more than likely lurking around the corner, but in the moment it was so worth it, just to be allowed another stint in her.
To his defense, he was taking it slow.
At first.
Savoring her one slow thrust at a time, each movement creating whimpers of bliss from the female part of their now one body.
And then he was taking her hard, and the whimpers turned into full-blown moans as he was pumping her, her back rubbing up against the stall wall, her legs wrapped around him, and he let go of all sense of mph, growlingly making her cum, her pussy vibrating around him, her hands pulling on his hair and he unloaded deeply inside of her as the tear-free water swirled down the drain.
...
They fell asleep in her room, intertwined, him relieved as he knew she couldn't sneak out from her own room.
Right?
Just in case, he held her tight.
And then, when he knew she was fast asleep, he whispered a quick "I love you" into the clutterness.
He knew she was nowhere near ready for that, and that he wasn't just speeding but breaking the fucking sound barrier, and if she would have heard him, she wouldn't only ask him to slow down, but most likely put indefinite, permanent breaks on their entire relationship.
Yet, he needed to put it out there.
Just for the universe to know and work its magic.
...
Thanks for your song suggestion, Lucy.