Author's Notes: I am so sorry for the huge delay. Work, the flu and writer's block.

This has easily been the hardest chapter to write and if any of it works it is thanks to V whose comments and questions helped me overcome a hurdle and allowed me to continue. Whatever doesn't work is strictly down to me.

However I would lower expectations, especially if you really enjoyed the last chapter. It's too soon for more physical intimacy as I deal with the inevitable conversation Maeve and Otis have to have. I only hope I've given it a small measure of justice.

Chapter 14

Maeve dragged her bedtime shirt over her head and glanced again at the closed door of the bathroom. She was still shaking and though Otis had said he was okay and just needed a few moments alone to rinse his face and check the bruising on his hip she couldn't help being concerned that he would again faint and this time hit his head giving himself a concussion or worse.

She dragged a pair of pants on and straightened her skirt and walked to the door of the bathroom and after a moment spent listening for any noise from the other side asked, "You okay, muppet?"

"I'm okay," Otis' muffled voice came back to her. "I'll be out in a minute."

"No rush, muppet, just…"

"I'm okay, Maeve. Really."

Maeve nodded then said, "I'll be out in the dining room."

She walked out to the other half of the caravan, thought about sitting at the table before realising she was too full of nervous energy and looked around for her cigarettes and grabbed and lit one then leant back against the sink, hoping the shaking would go away soon.

She knew she was still in shock and she could only imagine how much worse it was for Otis.

When he had said he had a panic attack with Lily and fainted she hadn't imagined it would have been as bad as that and she was glad he hadn't hit his head as he tumbled off the bed muttering, "Flamingo, flamingo."

She cursed herself for not retaining enough awareness to not touch his cock when he was not ready for it.

He had obviously not been handling fingering her as well as he had been letting her think he was – and that was on him - and she was a little angry that he hadn't used his safe word sooner so they could slow down for a bit.

She would have been a little disappointed because she had wanted his fingers inside her but not at this cost to himself.

No amount of the pleasure he had been giving her was worth this cost to himself.

She was more than just a little angry with him but that was a pale shadow next to her concern for him.

That reaction was not simply the product of inexperience.

She continued staring into nothing as the churning in her gut increased and the rawness in her throat sharpened and more tears fought their way to the surface.

Otis wiped his face with the towel held in his hands and then stared at his red-rimmed eyes in the mirror, wondering how he could ever look Maeve in her eyes again. He could barely stand to look at himself.

Maeve had trusted him, allowed him to be intimate with her, believing that if his feelings of discomfort became too much he would – as he had promised – use his safe word, slow things down, not put her in a situation where she had to deal with his panic if events moved outside his control when he was not prepared for them.

He had lied to her again, deceived her again, presented a false façade to her again, took away her opportunity to choose not to let him continue, to not participate in a situation that had always had the potential to lead to where it eventually ended up. He had taken away her right to say no.

It was a shitty thing to do to her and he knew it said so many shitty things about himself.

It didn't matter that he knew she wanted him to do the things to her that he was doing to her. It didn't matter that she had asked him to touch her pussy. It didn't matter that he knew he was pleasing her with his fingers. It didn't matter that he had managed to make her come. It really didn't matter that, technically, he had been handling the situation, using every emotional and cognitive resource he possessed to both please Maeve and reconcile the conflict between his desire to be with her and the discomfort with sexuality that had been festering ever since he had made the connection between his question to his mother and his mother's anger with his father.

If he had told Maeve about his discomfort she would at least have been prepared, would likely not have allowed herself to get so completely lost in the moment, would likely not have touched his penis when he wasn't ready for it.

Would most likely have refused permission for him to escalate their foreplay beyond her breasts.

He hoped that had not been even an unconscious part of his motive for not telling her he was uncomfortable but wanted to continue stroking both inside and outside her pussy.

He hoped he wouldn't have to hate himself that much more than he already did.

Maeve sensed his presence and looked up to see him standing in the doorway to the other half of the caravan, shame and regret clearly visible on his face and in his posture. She could see the effort he was making to look directly into her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Maeve," he said quietly.

Maeve threw her cigarette in the sink and within three strides reached him and wrapped her arms around him.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her concern for him crowding out everything else she was feeling. "Do you want to go to the hospital? Get checked out?"

Otis tentatively wrapped his arms around her, shaking his head. "I'm fine," he said.

"Are you sure?" she asked, squeezing him tighter.

"Yeah," he said. "You're shaking," he continued, his voice constricted with remorse and regret.

"You scared the crap out of me," Maeve said, her voice awash with held-back tears.

"I'm sorry," Otis breathed.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes."

That seemed to give her permission. All the emotions she had been holding in check broke free and Maeve abruptly pushed herself back, breaking their embrace.

"Fuck you for not using your safe word, Otis," she snapped, voice raw with emotion.

Otis flinched, realising that however much he had prepared himself for the possibility of this moment it was still not enough.

"You were supposed to use it so shit like this wouldn't happen," Maeve continued, unable to stop herself.

"I know," Otis said, too softly for Maeve to hear even if she had actually been listening at that moment.

"What's the fucking point of working out something like that if you can't even fucking use it when the time comes? If you're not going to be fucking honest with me after all the shit that's happened then what type of fucking relationship are we going to have? What is the fucking point of even fucking trying to have a relationship?"

Otis swallowed and nodded. "I know."

"You know," sneered Maeve. "Lot of fucking good knowing does if you don't fucking do anything with it."

"I'm sorry," Otis repeated.

"Fucking Christ, Otis," Maeve snapped, frustrated. "I know you're sorry. I know you didn't mean for that to happen. But how can we have a relationship if I can't fucking trust you?"

"We can't," Otis said quietly.

"What?" Maeve asked, brusquely.

"I'm fucked up, Maeve," Otis continued, voice hollow with hopelessness. "I'm not fit to be in a relationship."

Maeve shook her head. "No, Otis, that's not what I'm saying," she said, taking a deep breath and softening the edge in her tone. "I don't want to break up with you. I just want you to be fucking honest with me. If fingering my pussy was too much for you then you should have told me and we could have just gone back to titplay."

"I'll never be who you deserve to be with," Otis said.

"Don't fucking tell me who I do or don't deserve to be with. That's my fucking choice." She took another deep breath and spoke carefully, deliberately. "I'm angry because I care about you, not because I don't want to be with you. I'd just tell you to fuck off right now if I didn't want to be with you."

"But how can you trust me again, Maeve?" Otis asked and Maeve could hear the depths of his self-loathing.

"You tell me," she said bluntly, staring directly into his eyes.

Otis stared at her for a moment then dropped his gaze and ogled the floor for another moment before looking back up at her. "By always being honest with you."

"Genius," she said with a mocking undertone.

Otis nodded, took a slow deep breath and slowly released it, staring into Maeve's eyes, tears filling his own. He tried repeatedly to say something more before giving up and letting his shoulders slump even further than they already had been.

Maeve pressed her lips together, stared challengingly at him, cut short a sniffle then stepped forward to embrace him again.

"You fucking muppet, muppet," she said, her anger ebbing, blinking away her own tears.

Otis slowly lifted his arms and returned her embrace.

"I'm sorry," he murmured yet again.

"I know," she said soothingly.

She squeezed him tighter, reluctant to let him go.

"I'm sorry I touched your cock without asking," she eventually said.

Otis shook his head sharply. "You were lost in the moment like I was last night. It wasn't your fault, Maeve. It was mine."

"I know it was your fault," Maeve snapped, then swallowed and continued in a softer tone. "You can't do that again, Otis. Next time, let me know how you're feeling."

"Next time…" Otis murmured.

"If you want there to be a next time."

Otis was quiet for a moment and Maeve only relaxed when she heard his quiet murmur, "I do."

Maeve and Otis sat on opposite sides of the table. Otis was staring quietly at the tabletop, lost in his roiling thoughts. Maeve watched him carefully, feeling drained after her release of tension.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked quietly, concerned.

Otis nodded and looked up at her. "I'll be fine. What doesn't kill us only makes us stronger, right?"

Maeve gave him a sad soft smile. "Kelly Clarkson?"

He gave a sad soft smile in return. "Somebody like that."

"I'm sorry I was yelling," she said.

"Don't say 'sorry', Maeve."

"Now I know why mums yell at their kids after they stop them getting run over," she said.

Otis grimaced. "Wasn't I the one who ran you over?"

Maeve picked up her pack of cigarettes and took one out. "You must have been driving a lorry, the way I feel."

"Did I hurt you when I took my fingers out?" Otis asked, concerned.

"No," said Maeve, lighting her cigarette.

"I was worried."

Maeve gave him a soft smile and said, "But she only has eight lives left. You scared her to death. Not sure I'll be able to have anything up there again."

Otis gave her another soft smile awash with remorse.

"Not true," she whispered.

They settled into silence for a while as Maeve took deep drags on her cigarette.

"Was that as bad as with Lily?" she eventually asked.

"I think it was worse," Otis said after a moment's hesitation.

"Because you were prepared for Lily touching your cock but you weren't prepared for me doing it?"

Otis reluctantly nodded.

"Why, Otis? Why didn't you say something?"

"I thought I could handle it."

"Were you? I mean, before I grabbed your boner?"

Otis nodded. "Mostly. It was uncomfortable but…"

"But?"

"I was managing. I was doing my deep breathing exercises."

"I just thought you were turned on." She smirked. "I mean, I know you were turned on. It was pressing against my leg."

"I wasn't even noticing it at that point. I was focussed on…"

"Fingering me?"

Otis smiled. "Yeah."

"It felt really good, Otis. You have magic fingers," Maeve said softly.

"I was hoping I was doing it right."

"But you should have stopped if it was getting too much."

"I thought if I kept on then next time – if there was going to be a next time – it would be easier."

"Was it bad? I mean, did it feel bad? Wet, sticky. Did that feel bad?"

"No, no, that felt good, Maeve. You felt really good. And seeing that what I was doing was making you feel good was making me feel good."

"I don't want you putting yourself through that distress to make me feel good, Otis. Sex is supposed to be fun for both of us."

"I thought I could handle it," he repeated, lamely.

Maeve stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray. "I never suspected how close to panicking you were. I thought you were just nervous, maybe a little uncomfortable. Not that."

"I should have told you."

"Master of the Bleeding Obvious and Champion of the Too Fucking Late, you are."

"Captain Hindsight."

Maeve took a deep breath then dropped her gaze momentarily before looking back up at Otis, unable to contain the question any longer, needing to know. "It wasn't just about being inexperienced, was it?" she asked quietly, studying him.

Otis seemed to flinch internally.

"Did something happen to you?" she asked hesitantly, hoping she was strong enough to hear the answer.

Otis kept staring at her for a moment then he realised and shook his head. "Nothing like what you're thinking."

Maeve released the breath she hadn't realised she had been holding.

"Can you talk about it?" she asked quietly.

Otis said nothing but Maeve could see he was churning over his thoughts.

"It's okay," she began. "You don't have to if—"

"I caught dad fucking one of his patients," he said, looking straight into her eyes.

Maeve stared at him, stunned, struggling to find words to respond until eventually she managed to squeak "What?"

Otis sat on the couch, hands clasped together as he gazed down at his feet. Maeve was beside him, facing him, legs curled up under herself with her elbow resting on the back of the couch and her head resting on her hand as she watched him gently.

"How old were you?" she asked quietly.

"Four. I hadn't started school. I was in my room playing when I heard noises and I went downstairs and looked through the door of dad's office and I saw them together."

"Your dad and his patient?"

Otis nodded.

"Did you know what they were doing?" Maeve asked.

"No idea. That's why I asked mum."

"She was in the house?"

"No, she was out. Somewhere. But that night she was reading me a story and I asked her what dad and the woman were doing."

"What did she say?"

"That they were having sex… no, she said intercourse."

"Did you know what that was?"

"No. Mum said it was when a man put his penis inside a woman's vagina. I asked if it hurt. She said it could and that intercourse could be wonderful but sex could also destroy lives."

Maeve winced. "Did you understand what she meant?"

"Not until they started arguing."

Maeve closed her eyes momentarily and drew in a soft slow breath. "Oh, muppet," she whispered.

"They'd never argued," Otis began. "Not that I heard. Not until that point. The first time I remember hearing mum shouting I came out and watched through the banister on the stairs. I remember her telling him 'You put your cock in her'."

"What was your father doing?"

"He was being a dick."

"How?"

"Gaslighting. Telling mum she was a crazy woman. It wasn't worth getting upset over. She was overreacting."

Maeve pressed her lips together to keep from saying anything.

"It was so fucking scary," Otis said. "Mum was throwing things at dad and dad was saying he wasn't going to deal with her until she calmed down. I had never seen her angry like that. Not even when I was being a brat."

"No wonder you're so confused about things," Maeve said quietly.

"I fucked up the marriage," Otis said, bitterly.

"Your father fucked up the marriage."

"Mum would never have found out if it wasn't for me."

"You don't know that."

"They never argued before I said anything."

"It's not your fault, Otis."

Otis glanced at her, disbelieving, but said nothing.

"Have you ever talked to anyone about this?" Maeve asked.

After a moment, Otis shook his head.

"Do you think it would help if you talked to someone about it? I don't mean me, but talk to someone?"

"Maybe," Otis said in a small voice.

"It would help, wouldn't it?" Maeve said quietly.

"Maybe," he repeated.

Maeve gazed at him for a moment and knew there was no point in pushing further right now.

"Just think about it, okay?" she said gently.

Otis nodded.

"Does Eric know?" Maeve asked.

Otis was quiet for a moment then said, "What part of 'I haven't talked to anyone about it' did you miss?"

"Fuck you," Maeve said, smirking softly.

"Sorry," Otis said, smiling.

"Don't apologise or I'll show you my boobs again."

"You won't have to call the paramedics now," Otis said indifferently.

"Then I'll unwrap my mystery box and take your photo."

Otis frowned. "What?"

"Flash you."

Otis swallowed. "Yeah, you might need the paramedics for that."

"Sorry," said Maeve, quietly apologetic. "I should stop pushing."

Otis shook his head. "No, Maeve. I want you to be you."

"But if I hadn't been saying I wanted to fuck your brains out and going on about wanting you to be inside me, would you have pushed yourself?"

"Maybe," Otis said.

Maeve looked at him sceptically.

"Maeve, I want you, too. I want to be inside you. I want to make love with you."

Maeve grimaced. "You're too young to say 'make love'. Don't use that one again."

"That's why I was pushing myself. I told you, things were getting easier the more I did them and I… I wanted to rush things. To be with you."

Maeve gently stroked his hair. "Well, we're back to slowly now."

"I just hope…"

Maeve waited a moment then asked, "What?"

"I just hope I didn't tell you how I was feeling because I thought you'd say 'no'."

Maeve was surprised. "About fingering me?"

Otis nodded. "Yeah."

"Is that why you didn't tell me?"

"I don't know. Not consciously. But…"

"But…?"

"Look at what dad did. What if I'm my father's son? What if I'm like him?"

Maeve was quiet for a moment. "I don't believe that's why you did it, Otis. I don't think you would have been thinking that at all. I don't think you're that selfish. I mean, you should have told me and I probably would have said 'no' but you were still thinking of me as well when you did it. No one who wasn't thinking of me could pay that much attention to getting me off."

"I'm sorry I didn't think of what it would be like for you if things did go the way they did."

Maeve nodded. "You're not a bad guy, Otis, you just keep fucking up. But if you do anything like it again, we're definitely through."

"I won't," Otis promised, and Maeve knew he meant it and hoped he would be able to keep it.

Otis stared gently at her for a moment then turned away, his face crumpling.

"Sometimes I fucking hate my dad. I was in the house. He should have locked the door, made sure I couldn't catch them."

Maeve sat in silence, watching him gently.

"And mum," Otis continued. "Christ, mum, don't tell me sex destroys lives. I'm four. I don't…"

Maeve kept her tender gaze on him.

"That's one thing that really pisses me off about them. They didn't take into account how old I was when they were telling me stuff. About sex. I didn't fucking understand and they're..."

Maeve watched as he struggled to hold back his tears and she reached out and put her arm around his shoulder.

"It's okay," she murmured, reaching her other arm around to draw him closer and as she felt him surrender to his silent shuddering sorrow she couldn't help recognising the contrast with two nights earlier.

Jackson had felt like a burden. This felt like love.

Maeve sat back, one hand gently resting against Otis' shoulder as he took deep shuddering breaths then, embarrassed, began wiping the tears from his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't be," Maeve said softly.

Otis sighed heavily. "I must be a real disappointment to dad," he said.

"Why do you say that?"

"Just… you should see my dad. It's not a surprise his patient wanted to have sex with him. He's so… handsome and charming. He gets all these groupies on tour. I visited him once and they were basically throwing themselves at him."

"So why do you think you're a disappointment to him?" Maeve asked quietly.

Otis shrugged. "When I asked him about… when he lost his virginity, he was just… I don't know… I just sensed he thought I was pathetic."

"You're not pathetic," Maeve said quietly, shaking her head.

"That's why I decided I would go and ask Lily to have sex with me."

"You asked her?" Maeve asked, surprised.

"Oh, she'd already asked me but I turned her down."

"When?"

Otis hesitated. "During the Jackson business."

"Was I the reason you turned her down?"

"Part of it. But I wasn't interested in sex just for the sake of it." He shook his head, regretfully. "I should have stayed with my first instinct," he said ruefully.

Maeve looked at him, pondering. "So how does the thing with your dad affect what happened tonight?"

"I always see it. Or I feel it. How I felt when mum was throwing things at dad. How I felt when dad told me he wasn't going to be living with us anymore."

"Is that how you were feeling tonight?"

Otis nodded. "Yeah."

Maeve gently wandered her gaze across his face then said, quietly, "You didn't cause the divorce, Otis."

"It feels like I did."

"That's because you were four and you didn't understand and your mum didn't explain it in a way you could understand."

Otis glanced at her but kept quiet.

"I like Jean," Maeve said. "But she was wrong to say that to you."

Otis nodded. "Mum seems to be a good therapist but sometimes she can be so… I don't know."

"Reminds me of a guy I know," Maeve murmured.

Otis smiled gently at her, then sighed, berating himself. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"Here I am whining about mum and dad but at least I have them. Dad always sends me a present within a week of my birthday and mum… when I panicked with Lily I asked her to get mum and I knew she'd be there for me. And she was."

Otis' eyes roamed across her face.

"I wish you had…" he began then let his words drift away. "I'm sorry I'm being self-centered."

Maeve swallowed, thinking Otis really was a contrast to everyone else she had been with. She shuffled her posture to mimic his and sidled closer, leaning into him. After a moment, he lifted his arm and placed it around her shoulders.

They sat that way for a while, each taking comfort in the presence of the other until Maeve softly spoke.

"What is slowly going to mean for us now?"

Otis thought for a moment. "We just see what happens. If I feel uncomfortable I'll let you know and we can stop for a bit. Nothing more tonight," he clarified quickly.

"No," Maeve agreed.

"But don't stop pushing. I don't want you not to be you."

"I won't push so hard."

They settled into silence for a while then Otis stared gently at her. "Thank you," he said quietly.

"What for?"

"Being here for me. Not pushing me away."

Maeve snuggled closer against him. "Why would I push you away? It was a really good night except for that one little bit at the end there."

Otis smirked. "'Apart from that, Mrs Lincoln, how was the play?'"

"Well, the lead was a bit woody but he certainly knew how to push the right buttons with the audience."

Author's Note: I'm not sure I can do anything more to improve this at the moment so I hope it works enough. The only section that flowed onto the page was the first one. Everything else was crafted and shuffled and reshuffled and reconstructed from bits and pieces of many failures and dead-ends so I hope I've managed to smooth out the bumps and have it seem believable.

I cannot give any timeframe for the arrival of the next chapter but I'll bring it to you as soon as I am able.

I really appreciate your patience and desire for me to continue the story. I'll do my best not to let you down.