Fade into You: Chapter 13 - Let Me Show You
Sarah lost time as they held each other, Jareth's arms cocooning her head as she stroked his back languidly. She kept her face tucked in his neck, unable to look at him while she drifted back down to earth. The heat of his sticky weight that caged her against the limestone was grounding and suffocating and perfect.
As if intuiting her struggle to breathe and regulate her body temperature, Jareth peeled himself off her with a reluctant little sigh. Sarah admired him as he stood and stretched—a study in obscenity, unashamed by how his skin gleamed with sweat and come. Their eyes caught briefly as he pulled her to her feet before he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and tugged her toward the pool.
The sun was high in the cloudless summer sky as they slipped wordlessly back into the water, resuming their places on their half-submerged thrones. Sarah untied her bikini top and tossed it aside, deciding it would be more awkward to sit there adjusting it back in place while she still had no bottoms on. The silence between them was comfortable but delicate. Sarah was vaguely aware of the sound of the waterfall and creatures around them, but all she could focus on was the memory of their names echoing in the voice of the other. She couldn't formulate the appropriate first words after all that had just been exchanged between them, and Jareth seemed pensive, sated, and nervous all at once.
A bird of prey screamed shrilly overhead. Their chins tilted upwards in unison, eyes tracking the raptor's path across the sky before it wheeled back to complete a circuit.
"Hello, friend," Sarah heard herself say, warmth swelling in her chest at the familiar sight.
In her peripheral vision, Sarah could see Jareth turn his head slightly to glance at her, and she became aware of the dopey smile on her face. "I'm happy to see him."
She couldn't see it, but she felt the lift of Jareth's eyebrow. "'He? How can you be sure?" He sounded truly curious rather than challenging.
Sarah's smile stretched. "So your ornithological knowledge doesn't extend beyond owls?"
"It does not," Jareth lamented. "That would have made extracting Éclair out of Point Pleasant much less of a debacle, I'd imagine. The language barrier proved troublesome."
She laughed, but her eyes didn't stray from the sky. "I can tell he's a male because he's fairly small for an adult," she explained. "I know he's full-grown because fledglings are just leaving the nest about now. They'd look pretty pathetic compared to him, and hawks reach adulthood within their first year. We'll probably see the female at some point. She'll be bigger than him."
Jareth was quiet, and his expression urged her onward when her eyes slid to his for the first time since that shared glance when he'd helped her up.
"They mate for life," Sarah pressed on, grateful for the hawk's presence so she had an excuse to look away from his overly observant gaze. "We should come back in the Spring when they are courting. They put on quite a song and dance. I saw one throw a snake to another mid-air once when I was a kid. It was epic."
"I seem to remember tossing a snake your way once." He sighed a rueful sigh. "You were less than impressed."
Sarah smirked. "I like snakes when they aren't being lobbed at my face," she told him. "You could have at least let me keep it. I've never cared for scarves unless they are worn by a cute talking worm."
"No reptiles or textiles as projectiles," Jareth noted.
"Nice one," she said on the back of a snort. "And that wasn't a romantic gesture, it was an impulsive tantrum at being defied."
"True," he conceded. "I hope my approach to romance is considerably more compelling."
"Considerably," Sarah agreed and immediately felt her cheeks flame at the admission. She rushed into more bird facts to keep the conversation from descending into territory she wasn't prepared to traverse just yet. "I was hoping we'd see them. I figured we would when we saw the owl last night."
"What does the owl have to do with the hawk?" Jareth asked, not seeming at all miffed that Sarah was channeling David Attenborough instead of opening up the conversation to discuss what had happened between them only moments before.
"Red-shouldered hawks like this guy are the diurnal counterpoint to the Barred Owl we saw last night," Sarah elaborated.
Jareth said nothing in that I don't know what the hell you just said to me kind of way.
"They share the same niche but hunt during the day instead of at night," she supplied. "So, seeing the Barred Owl hunting indicates a healthy, balanced ecosystem. And therefore"—she held up an index finger as though illustrating she'd arrived at her main point—"if a Barred Owl is thriving, the Red-shouldered Hawks probably can too since they share similar food sources."
Jareth continued his quietude, and when Sarah glanced over at him, he was looking at her with a baffled expression. "Sarah Williams, who are you?" he demanded. "I thought I knew you well, but after this weekend, I have dawning concerns that you are, in fact, a changeling and not Sarah at all."
Sarah relaxed, his teasing making her feel marginally more at ease despite the chorus of feelings and questions roaring within her. She let her shoulder remain smooshed against his after bumping him lightly. "How does one go about introducing the fact that their brain holds an inordinate amount of nature knowledge?" she asked. "It doesn't exactly make me a hit at parties."
"You don't typically attend parties, so I'd imagine you're not often faced with that dilemma," he replied. His eyes twinkled with mischief, and he added, "I should amend that statement. You only attend parties where dildos, champagne, and tawdry undergarments are issued as favors."
She choked around the raspberry she'd popped into her mouth. "Hush, you."
Jareth grinned and said, "I wasn't asking about your go-to icebreakers amongst strangers. I'm curious why you've withheld such an important part of you from me all this time."
Sarah abandoned the berries and considered his question. "I don't think I meant to. It's not like there is much wildlife in the city to influence a conversation about it, and what am I supposed to say, 'Hey, wow, you're an owl. I'm not an owl, but let me infodump at you about them for hours.'"
He chuckled. "I might suggest some slight rephrasing, but yes." He assessed her for a moment before continuing, "Did you think I wouldn't care to know this part of you? Or that I would be disinterested?"
"I wasn't sure what to think, but…" she trailed off.
"But?" he prompted.
"I don't know. I'd seen you with the bat—how tender you were. It raised questions about you that I wasn't ready to explore," Sarah revealed. "I guess I subconsciously set up a barrier around nature discussions in general."
Jareth preened with theatric confidence. "You were worried you'd tumble even further into love with me if you fully understood my animal affinity, you mean."
"...Sure," she said noncommittally, dragging out the word.
Shhhhuuuuure.
But he was right, she knew, and he knew it too, judging by the way his eyes danced with hers at her lack of outright denial.
She moved off of the rocks and further into the water. The pool had warmed since earlier, but it still felt refreshingly cool against her flushing skin.
When she heard sloshing sounds following behind her, she turned to see Jareth striding through the water holding the bottle of soap in one hand and gesturing to it demonstratively with the other. "Come over here," he told her, "and let me wash you. It really is the least I can offer."
"So I've learned," Sarah quipped and bit her lip, unsure of why her brazenness surprised her now, even after they'd thoroughly debauched each other.
"Oh-ho!" Jareth exclaimed, delighted. "So, we aren't going to pretend none of that happened?"
A hint of a smirk played at her lips. "None of what?" she asked as they met where the water was up to their bellies.
His mouth fell in a cartoonish frown—a true upside-down smile.
"No, we aren't going to pretend it didn't happen," Sarah allowed, unable to stand that look on his face. "But for fuck's sake, give me a bit of a breather to decompress before you start in on me about it."
Jareth hummed. "Fair," he said, then as if unable to help himself asked, "Could you please define 'a bit of a breather'? Because you still have my spill on your chest, and it's exceedingly distracting."
Sarah rolled her eyes. "Who's fault is that?"
"Entirely yours," he informed her matter of factly.
"Fair," she parroted.
They shared a grin as Jareth squirted soap into his hands and worked it into a lather. "May I rectify the situation? Though I should mention, I thoroughly hope to repeat it."
"Your hands? Gracing these tits? Never." Sarah scoffed in mock offense. "Unfathomable."
He chuckled but made no move to touch her. "Is that a yes? Or do you prefer I just stand here with soapy hands and whatever lewd expression I'm certain my face is displaying as I gaze upon the glorious evidence of what I'm not supposed to speak about?"
"Right, because you're not currently speaking about it," she admonished half-heartedly.
"Damn," Jareth cursed with a feigned scowl. "I had hoped you were too busy being foundationally contrary to have noticed."
Sarah returned the scowl but otherwise ignored the insult. "Wash me, please."
He moved behind her and smoothed strong hands over her arms, shoulders, and back. He took his time, massaging her muscles. His hands slipped to her front and glided up her belly and chest. His fingers passed over her nipples once but did not repeat the action when she jerked at the overstimulation.
"Sorry," he said and kissed her temple.
"It's fine, they're just—"
"I know," Jareth assured her. His hands moved over her hips and paused at her inner thighs. "Is this alright? I promise I will be gentle."
Sarah nodded and widened her stance a bit. She leaned against him, her head falling back on his shoulder. An arm encircled her waist, and the other gingerly explored her.
"Would you prefer I be conservative in my efforts?" he asked.
"Conservative?" she repeated, cutting him a dubious look from her peripheral. "Your hand is on my cunt."
"Let me clarify." Jareth turned her around to face him and hitched one of her legs over his hip. His hands gripped her ass and squeezed before spreading her cheeks slightly. "How thorough should I be?"
Sarah gasped and gripped his shoulders. "Oh, um…."
His grin was a flashing thing. "Shy?"
"No, not shy," she said but didn't elaborate.
His expression softened. "Inexperienced?"
"No one has touched me there before," Sarah confessed. "I'm not sure what to expect."
"It can be bliss if both partners are considerate and communicative," Jareth told her. "Do you trust me to wash you and take it no further?"
"Yes," she said, hooking her leg around him a little higher to grant him better access. "I trust you."
"Good," he cooed. "Though I can't promise it won't feel pleasurable."
A hand spread her further while the other slipped between her cheeks. A finger pressed at her perineum and paused when Sarah's grip on his shoulders tightened. "Alright?" he asked.
She nodded. "Yeah, it's just surprising, I guess."
Jareth's lips curved. He dragged the pad of his finger slowly around her puckered hole and stalled the movement again when Sarah tensed. "Relax," he soothed. "I will not penetrate you. Not today, and not without your explicit permission."
Sarah rested her forehead against his shoulder. "Keep going," she told him.
His finger slid over her opening, and her breath caught at the alien feeling. It was strange and hard to process, but she couldn't deny that the tender pressure and glide of his touch over her nerve endings felt good.
"I think about you touching me like this more often than I care to admit," Jareth husked. "I've dreamt about you fucking me in that harness contraption since you showed it to me. I find myself wondering, would you pamper me? Punish me? Praise me?"
"You seem excited by all three," Sarah pointed out, feeling his cock hardening between their bodies.
He nipped her earlobe, trapping it between his teeth as he purred, "Thrilled."
Sarah moved to take him in hand, and his grip on her tightened in warning. "Oh, no," he said, his tone light and teasing. "There's no need for that now."
She looked up at him in surprise. "But you're—"
"Not your responsibility," Jareth insisted as his finger circled and stroked. "If you touched me every time I became aroused in your presence, I fear we'd never leave this pool."
Sarah could feel a smirk tugging at her lips. "Can't have that," she commented, not hiding the sarcasm in her voice. "It's been such a terrible time so far."
Jareth chuckled as his hand slipped from her. He smoothed it over the globe of her ass and squeezed. "Awful."
Her leg slid from around him, and she reached for the abandoned bottle of soap floating nearby. "Your turn?" she asked, cursing herself for the nervousness she could hear staining the question.
A spark lit in his eyes as he considered. "Tempting," he said, taking the bottle from her. "But I'd rather you have more time to think that decision through."
Sarah felt a small pang of rejection, but she pushed it away. He was being so careful with her, and she knew him well enough to know it was all for her benefit. "You're not going to scare me away if that's what you're worried about," she told him.
"I couldn't control that if I tried," Jareth said, lathering soap in his hands. "This is about respect. The idea of you going from asking for a breather to touching me that intimately in the space of minutes unsettles me."
She wanted to argue unfairness, that it was only right she reciprocate. She wanted to tell him it wasn't his job to protect her, but even the thought felt hollow. He'd always protected her, and for her to say she didn't appreciate it would be a lie.
Sarah couldn't deny that the concept of taking care of him in that way was alluring. She wanted to see what his face would look like, to hear the sounds he'd make as she caressed between his legs. But things were moving so fast. Just that morning, they'd woken up in the newness of a snuggle session. In just a few hours, everything had undeniably changed, and she hadn't begun to process what that meant.
His promise drifted back to her—that all she owed him was honesty, and he needed nothing more to feel taken care of. She'd believed him then, and she chose to believe him now.
She held out her hand and tapped it with her finger, indicating she wanted him to squirt soap into her palm. Jareth obliged, sending her a small smile as if he understood her conflict. An easy silence fell between them as she washed her hair and he bathed himself.
Their quietude stretched as they sunned themselves on the rocks, water evaporating from their skin as the sun beamed from its zenith. Sarah fished around in her bag, and Jareth slid her a look that said he was less than impressed with the protein bar she handed him. His expression split into a grin when she pulled out her bucket hat and wordlessly plopped it onto his head.
The walk back seemed impossibly long, even though it was mostly downhill compared to their journey to the pool. Doubts started swirling in Sarah's belly, and she found herself unable to stop thinking about the fraction of a second in which she'd nearly snagged Jareth's lips with hers. She couldn't decide what bothered her the most about it—the fact that it scared her so much, and she didn't understand why or that she suspected he'd known and purposefully avoided it.
Sarah was so lost in her thoughts she nearly jumped when Jareth's fingers slipped between hers. "You're overthinking," he observed.
"No," Sarah lied and wondered what it tasted like to him when she did so.
So much for all that honesty I owe him, she thought guiltily.
"You are," he said, giving her fingers a squeeze. "Stop that."
Whether he meant the overthinking or the mistruths, Sarah couldn't be sure, and she didn't ask for clarification. Instead, she nodded and gave his hand a quick pulse back.
Jareth took the hat off his head and feigned a dramatic sigh of regret at doing so. "You need this more than I do," he remarked before putting it on her head. "To keep the worries out."
Sarah smiled, her nerves settling to a manageable fizz as they broke into the clearing where they'd set up camp. They exchanged few words as she started the fire, both of them silently acknowledging that it was a time for reflection, not fire-building lessons. They ate an early dinner after agreeing that the muffins, berries, and snack bars from earlier had not satiated their hunger for an actual meal. Sarah watched Jareth internally devising a joke about how they had worked up such an appetite, but he ostensibly decided against it when she slid a less-than-receptive look his way.
Late afternoon found them curled in the hammock. One of Jareth's legs dangled off the side, his foot planted on the ground and used for leverage to gently rock them back and forth. He'd finally gotten the nap he'd asked for the day before as they dozed, his arm around her shoulders and her leg spanning the tops of his thighs.
The explosive evening song of Red-winged Blackbirds drew Sarah from slumber, and her eyes fluttered open to see Jareth studying her with a pensive expression. She peered at him blearily from beneath the brim of her hat. "What are you thinking about so hard?" she asked, smoothing his furrowed brow with a fingertip.
"I was wondering if you still think it's a me thing," Jareth said, gesturing between them, "after what we shared today." There was a hint of a smile on his face, but it was shadowed with something resembling trepidation.
Sarah was quiet for a moment as she processed the question before asking, "You're wondering if I think you are magically influencing me?"
He gave a nearly imperceptible nod as if answering with words was unbearable.
"J, I never meant to imply that you are bamboozling me," she told him.
"I know," Jareth assured her, though his smile slipped into an almost-frown at her word choice.
Sarah felt her own lips pull down in subconscious imitation. "Then why do you look like I just told you small children were let loose in your wardrobe with chocolate-covered fingers and spaghetti faces?"
He grimaced at the imagery but didn't laugh at her attempt at a joke. "I don't like that you wondered. Even once," he said seriously. "I should have known."
"Stop. You can't read my mind," Sarah scolded, tightening her leg around him.
"Perhaps not," he allowed, "but I should have made sure you knew that every choice is your own, and I wouldn't change that if I could."
"I know," she promised and meant it. "It's an us thing."
Jareth's gaze darted to her mouth and hovered there, bringing to the forefront another question that hung between them. Sarah could almost see it on the tip of his tongue as it snaked out to wet his lips.
Her breath snagged, and she did her best to feign ignorance by glancing around the campsite meaningfully. "We should clean up our mess from lunch and put all the food in the bear boxes before it gets dark," she told him, unfurling herself from his side and stepping out of the hammock.
He watched her silently for a moment as she bustled around tidying up this and that before he sighed and joined her.
The moon was rising, full and bright, by the time they'd finished packing things away. They lingered at the pond's shore after brushing their teeth to admire its ascent. Sarah felt an edge of full moon wildness in her bones as they stood together, and she wondered if he felt it too. She could never sleep soundly during a full moon, and she knew tonight would be no different.
Jareth's arm slipped around her shoulders, and he yawned. "Take me to bed," he commanded.
Sarah's stomach flipped. She knew him better than to think he was seeking slumber alone. The need for conversation clung all over him, and she felt sure he wouldn't be able to restrain himself once they were in the tent together.
Before she could respond, he'd scooped an arm under her legs, lifting her up. "Still, you defy me," he admonished, striding purposefully back to the campsite. "You leave me no choice but to take you to bed."
A laugh bubbled from her as her arm looped around his shoulders. She would have fought him off not long ago, but it felt good to be carried. To let go, even just a little more.
Jareth struggled to maneuver them up the uneven terrain of the hill, and Sarah offered no help, giggling into his neck as he teetered and swayed. When they reached the campsite, he paused at the threshold of the tent. "I'd planned to deposit you straight into the sheets," he told her, sounding disappointed. "But I've had little luck with that confounded zipper, and I don't believe an attempt to open it one-handed would prove to be a success story."
Sarah slid to her feet with a grin. "At least you know your limits," she noted, unzipping the tent flap and crawling inside.
He followed, then turned to zip the tent up behind him. Sarah watched him toil fruitlessly for perhaps a little longer than necessary before gently taking over. "How about you don't and say that you did," she suggested.
Jareth huffed indignantly and busied himself with arranging and fluffing their pillows. Instead of getting underneath the covers and assuming a sleeping pose, he adopted his standard criss-cross applesauce position. He looked at her expectantly and motioned for her to sit across from him.
Here we go, she thought, mirroring him.
He pulled the maroon chenille blanket over their laps and made a fuss about tucking it around their legs. He was too quiet for her liking, an unuttered 'sooooo….' stretching between them.
"Sooooo…." Jareth said, and Sarah couldn't help but laugh.
"So?" she parroted.
Jareth narrowed his eyes in accusation. "Are you going to tell me how that was for you, or are you cruelly planning to leave me squirming with torturous insecurity?"
She rolled her eyes. "You've never been insecure a day in your life."
He rolled his eyes back at her in irritatingly perfect imitation. "And you think you know everything."
"That couldn't be further from the truth," Sarah told him, a bit defensively. "Today, of all days, I've had to accept I know close to nothing."
Jareth exhaled an impatient breath. "Close to nothing is still something, you nightmarishly withholding thing."
Sarah chuckled and regarded him for a beat before asking, "How can you wonder how that was for me? I think the endless string of orgasms was evidence enough to make a reasonably solid assumption."
"Would you rather I navigate this based on assumptions?" he questioned, his tone more serious. "I respect you too much for that, Sarah."
She studied him for a moment and shrugged. "What do you want me to say? Best sex of my life? A thousand fantasies manifested into a surreal dreamscape of moans and touches?"
"That's a start," Jareth said, flashing her a wolfish grin.
Sarah returned a small smile. "What about you?" she asked, unnerved by how quiet her voice was when the question spilled out. "Was it everything you'd hoped it would be?"
Jareth considered her for a long moment. Too long, Sarah thought, and she shifted nervously in anticipation of his answer.
"What we shared was no less than beauty in its rawest form, Sarah Bear," he finally said. "But I must admit to feeling somewhat disoriented."
Sarah felt a frown pulling at the corners of her mouth. "Disoriented?" she asked. "Are you… are you alright? I'm sorry if I shouldn't have—"
"No, Sarah, don't go down that path," he interrupted, taking her hand and holding it between them. "It's nothing you did. It's what you didn't do that has me confused."
Her stomach sank. "What I didn't do? Was I not—"
"No," he said again, squeezing her fingers. "You are perfect. Don't think for a second you are anything less."
"What, then?"
Jareth's other hand carded through his hair, and he had that distinct look on his face Sarah recognized as the one he wore when he was considering how much to say.
After a long moment, he brought her hand to his mouth, brushed a kiss over her knuckles, and said, "I want to ask you something, Sarah, but I fear your answer as much as I fear you not giving me one."
"Okay," Sarah replied, drawing it out.
Okaaaaaayyyyyy.
When she said nothing more, he continued, "However you respond, I need you to know it's alright." He kissed the top of her hand. "We are alright."
"Okay," she said again. "Ask."
Jareth stared at her, his pupils bouncing between hers. "I want to understand your aversion to kissing me," he told her quietly. "If I were to ask, would you tell me?"
Sarah blinked—the first blink in some time, she noted absently—in what must have looked like a silent scream of complete unpreparedness.
A hint of a smile curled at his lips while he waited, but there was real concern shining in his eyes. She realized he'd been slightly to the left of demanding a direct answer, giving her an out by phrasing the request as a hypothetical.
She swallowed past the lump forming in her throat. "If I had an aversion to kissing you, I would tell you about it," she answered.
Jareth's eyes brightened. "So," he said in a clarifying tone. "No aversion to kissing me, then."
Sarah glanced away and shook her head.
His fingertips found her chin and gently tugged to encourage her to look at him. When she met his gaze, he asked, "Then why, in all our touches, have we not shared a kiss?"
An audible little gasp escaped her as her breath caught. Her voice was barely above a whisper when she replied, "You know why, Jareth."
Jareth sighed. "I wish I did, Sarah," he told her, stroking her cheek lightly with his knuckles. "I am hopeful you will tell me so I am not fated with an eternity of wondering why my lips never touched yours."
Sarah felt her face flush under his soft caresses. She chewed her lip for a moment before saying, "I'm sure this will sound ridiculous after everything I just did, but the concept of kissing you is a lot for me. It's almost too big to fit in my brain."
"I can only base my assumptions for what can fit where based on recently lived experience," he said with a smirk. "You have my utmost confidence, though I'm sure it's a tight squeeze."
Sarah sent him a withering look. "You know what I mean."
"I do," he admitted. He searched her face, brushing his thumb over her bottom lip. "A kiss between two people who care about each other is a particularly intimate act."
"Sex is intimate, though," she pointed out.
"I'm not saying it isn't," Jareth said, pressing the pad flush against her mouth before dropping his hand. "I'm acknowledging that a kiss can mean more."
Sarah nodded, relieved he had found the words for what she couldn't. "What would it mean for you?" she asked.
His eyes swirled with warmth and something that looked like hesitant hope. "It would mean tasting the parts of your heart I crave to know most. It would mean accessing each other on the deepest levels." His voice dropped low as he added, "I wouldn't hide from you, Sarah. I think that makes you nervous."
Her heart skipped a beat at both his words and the realization that they were the truth. Her eyes slid away again as she confided, "And I think you have me figured out better than I do."
"Listen to me," Jareth said sternly and waited for her to meet his gaze before continuing. "You don't owe me anything. I can hold this love for you until the suns burn out." Both hands made explosive gestures that could be construed as obscene if you didn't know him and absolutely would know were obscene if you did.
Sarah felt a sick twist in her gut. "That's not fair to you," she protested.
"None of it is fair," he reminded her. "I can handle being just friends. Things can go back to how they were before this morning." His fingers tightened around hers. "I'll still comfort you through every heartbreak."
An invisible hand squeezed inside her ribcage, and a pang of apprehension crept up her spine. "Are you giving me an ultimatum?"
"No," Jareth told her quickly. "I just want you to know your options if being close in this new way feels like too much."
Sarah nodded slowly, rolling his words over in her mind. After a moment, she asked, "How do you feel about it?"
"As if I somehow have less of you than I did before you stripped me bare," he answered solemnly, then said, "Don't misunderstand me, Sarah. Those were the most intense orgasms I can remember, but I'd trade them for a kiss in a heartbeat."
Sarah's free hand reached up of its own accord to cup his cheek. "You're not nervous?" she asked. "Not even a little?"
"I'm beyond nervous," Jareth confessed. "But even when my nerves freeze with trepidation, or when I am agonizing over all of the possibilities and what they could mean, I still want it. I'm afraid of what your lips on mine might say, but I am past the point where I can stop thinking about all the words I want mine to say against yours."
He was so calm. Like he hadn't exposed his heart, torn it from his chest, and thrown it at her feet.
"Kiss me, then," Sarah said, though she knew by the set of his jaw that he would do no such thing. She watched his lips twitch with something like satisfaction as he subtly shook his head. Her mouth went dry while she waited, and she was hyper-aware of how her lips parted slightly in invitation as they stared at one another. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip before pulling it into her mouth and sucking it—desperate to feel something there.
Jareth drank in the movement. "Sarah," he murmured, nuzzling into her palm. "If your fear still has more sway than your desire to know what would happen were our mouths to meet, then, by all means. Let them not meet at all, and we can simply continue to put them to use in other places. We can carry on ravishing each other, cautious not to kiss, mind you, but forever toying with the idea. We'll keep up with our carefully non-romantic-yet-romantic, unique, untouchable, loving friendship. For there is love here, Sarah, is there not? A love, yet undefined and hardly explored, but still. What we have already, now, is full of love. And it is enough."
"I feel like that comes with a 'but,'" Sarah observed, her heart in her throat.
"And," he corrected, "you may not be ready for me to tell you how much I burn for more than that safe scenario I just described. Not directly, anyway. So, out of respect for your wishes, I won't tell you. Not with words. Not until you ask."
Sarah held his hand a little tighter. "Here's the 'but.'"
Jareth smiled in acknowledgment. "But," he said and turned his head to press a kiss to her palm. "I can show you. Kiss me, Sarah, and let me."
A/N: Thank you Geliot99 for being a wonderful beta
These two are actively working together to be the absolute death of me.
Thank you to everyone who is still on this ride with me. I appreciate your comments so much. I can't even begin to tell you how much they mean to me. I've truly cherished interacting with you and hearing your thoughts and reactions. It's made this process all the more joyful.
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