It's new, the shape of your body

July

They drive through the town in silence. Hero expects there to be stares but no one looks at them. No one else seems to feel the cosmic magnitude of her being in this car with John Aragon, driving to his house where the two of them will be alone. She fiddles with her seatbelt, skin prickling with nervous anticipation. Leaning back in her seat, she observes him from the corner of her gaze, taking in the cut of his jaw, the fine craft of his features, the soft bow of his lips. She had been kissing those lips only moments ago… she will likely be kissing them again in a short while. The thought makes her insides sparkle.

They pull into the long driveway that Hero is used to seeing packed with cars. Despite being here before, the sight of the place still fills her with a sense of awe; it is so modern, so unlike the other homes of Messina Cove. She feels as if she has stepped into a movie or a magazine, somewhere not quite real.

Inside the villa, Hero removes her shoes because it's polite and tracking sand into a place like this feels sacrilegious. She attended a number of parties here with Claudio, back in their teens. It feels bigger without the hoard of underage drinkers. It is strange to be here alone with John. He never appeared at those parties. She forgot this was his home too.

She glimpses the ripple of blue and runs to the glass doors to better view the swimming pool. She remembers the excitement of coming over to Pedro's house and splashing in his pool with the rest of the popular crowd. She had been so thankful to Claudio for making her a part of his world.

John joins her, opening the doors. "Want to go in?"

"Now?"

"Why not? We're already wet."

She swallows her tongue as he strips off his sweatshirt and t-shirt in one fluid motion, revealing his bare chest.

"I-I d-don't have my — my swimsuit."

"So what?" He grins, eyes sweeping over her, making her pulse spike.

Her brain halts all functioning as he undoes his belt, shoving down his trousers. Her gaze darts to the tiled floor, cheeks burning. She hears the pound of footsteps then a splash as John leaps into the pool. She dares to glance up, watching as his elegant form glides beneath the water.

He swims the length of the pool then circles back to her. He flashes that same roguish grin he had at The Ducat that does dastardly things to her insides. "Are you coming in? Or are you just going to watch?"

Her face flames and she crouches down to splash him.

He chuckles, low and dark, a tremor running through her. "This isn't a war you want to start."

Before she can retreat, he sends a spray of water towards her. For the second time that day, her clothes are soaked.

She pouts at him, unzipping her fleece. "Jerk!"

He laughs, swimming backwards. "What are you going to do about it?"

Hero huffs. This is a bad idea, she thinks as she hurries to undress. As she pulls down her leggings, she wishes when she dressed that morning she had picked out something sexier than a plain bra and mismatched underwear. She leaves her clothes folded on the side bench and sits herself on the pool's edge.

John surges from the water, raining droplets. He grins, hands wrapping around her ankles. She has a second for her eyes to go wide then he yanks her into the pool. She lets out a shriek, crashing against him; his arms encircle her waist.

She bats his shoulder. "You menace."

He laughs. His smirk is infuriating as he crowds her against the side of the pool. Her fingers lace behind the back of his neck and she drags his mouth against hers, kissing him deliberate and slow, drawing him deeper and deeper into her current. His hands mould to her waist, pressing her into the pool's edge. The water stirs around them, legs twining. She inhales him like nicotine; though she has never smoked a cigarette, she suddenly understands how one can never be enough. She needs his mouth on her, needs the taste of him now fresh with chlorine. It is terrifying, it is exhilarating.

Without warning, she pushes from the edge, throwing all her weight on him and dragging him underwater with her. Now their kisses become desperate, the need for each other grappling with the urgent need for air. She releases him, both of them breaking the surface, gulping down breaths. John gazes at her in a stupor. She smiles and takes off swimming. After a beat, she hears him thrashing after her; the chase is on.

The pool is big, but it has its limits; they swim around in circles. Hero knows, despite her sprightliness, if John wanted to catch her, he could easily. But he is enjoying the pursuit. She swims, choking on chlorine as she laughs, attempting to slow him by hurling water in his direction. It descends into a riot, water spraying everywhere and the house doesn't seem so strange or empty with their laughter filling its corners.

After a while of play-fighting, John snakes his arms around her and they relax in a corner of the pool. Hero rests her head against his shoulder, tracing water droplets down the muscles of his chest, as his fingers skim along the underside of her sodden bra. Her skin tingles with giddiness or perhaps it is too long spent in the pool. There is nothing going through her mind, except the desire to touch him more, to discover all of him.

"Hey…" John's voice comes softly. He brushes back the matted strands of her hair. "Want to go inside? I can make us lunch?"

Hero pulls back from him, nodding slowly. She is starting to feel wrinkled from the water. John climbs from the pool first and she tries not to stare at how his boxers cling to him. As soon as she is out of the water, she becomes self-conscious of her own wrinkled underwear, almost transparent on her body. John crosses to a wooden box, opening it up and tossing her a thick fluffy robe. She thanks him, pulling it on in haste as he dons another.

They collect their clothes and head inside the villa. Hero falters, conscious of the puddles she is tracking through the Aragons' stylish home.

"Hero?" John asks, unbothered at the water dripping off him.

Hero recalls some of the worser messes from Pedro's parties and carries on. They load their damp clothes into the tumble dryer in the utility room, her resolve set with the timer. John leads her into a kitchen that looks as if it has never been touched, all sleek and shining surfaces. She expects him to choose something low effort, like a bagel or pizza, but then he takes out a chopping board and a frying pan.

"Fajitas okay with you?"

"Um… yeah…" She crosses her arms through the voluminous robe sleeves. "But… I'm a vegetarian."

She made the resolution when she was five after discovering many of the cute animals at the petting farm her parents had taken her to visit were also dishes on their menu. As a restaurant owner, her father despaired but Hero never wavered in her resolve, even when it meant she had to go without at barbecues because Claudio forgot to buy vegetarian alternatives.

John doesn't blink, moving to grab the ingredients from the fridge. "That makes it easier. I am too."

"R-Really?"

"Saw that it bothered my father so I committed. Think he'd rather I did drugs." He takes out a chopping knife, sporting a subtle grin. "I've always liked animals. When I was eight, we went on a school trip to a farm and I led a breakout."

"Now you have to tell me the whole story!"

There were plenty of tales told about John in school, but they all painted him as a miscreant at best and a satanic-worshipper at worst. Hero has never heard a story about him as a child; it is charming in its chaos and makes her laugh.

"I wish I could have seen that. I would have helped."

"Yeah? Thought you were allergic to rule-breaking?"

She bumps her hip against his. "I'm not that much of a goody-two-shoes. I can break a rule or two." He raises an eyebrow and she huffs. "I can't be too good, or I wouldn't be here, hanging out with the school bad boy."

He chuckles, hand curling around the belt of her robe. "Good thing neither of us are in school."

He is too handsome.

"Not yet," she blurts. At his curious look, she clarifies, "I—I'm… training to be a teacher."

His grin broadens. "Figures. You're the sort."

"What do you mean?"

"Clever. Patient. Believing in the best of people."

Hero tucks a lock behind her ear, smile glowing. "Thank you. I still have another year of study to go. Here let me help…" She joins him in slicing the vegetables. "What is it… is there something you're doing or hoping to do?"

"At the moment… I'm working shifts at the Marine Aquarium."

"Oh!" She whirls to him, beaming. "That's one of my favourite places in Messina Cove!"

She has always loved going to the aquarium. She celebrated her tenth birthday there and had taken Claudio along on one of their first dates. She decides not to mention this last truth.

His smile is a subtle, private thing. "Mine as well. I volunteered there a lot as a teenager — service to the community. But I loved it. Now they've taken me back with pay."

"That's great. So… you're sticking around then?"

"I don't know… I came back because the team asked for help over the summer. After that… it was never my plan to stay long."

Hero is not sure why this ripples through her, like a pebble dropped in a tidepool. It shouldn't matter to her if John remains in Messina Cove or not. She won't be here to miss him, returning to university to finish her degree at the summer's end. And why should she miss him? They barely know each other.

"You're welcome to come by the aquarium anytime," John tells her, focus on the vegetables sizzling in the pan. "I'll give you a tour; introduce you to all our residents."

Hero smiles, clasping her hands in-front of her. "I'd like that."

Hero is not sure how she found herself in this house with John Aragon, both of them dressed in only robes but her nerves have calmed since the car ride. She feels relaxed as they eat together, making casual conversation. They trade stories from their school days, discussing old teachers and classmates.

"How do you know so much gossip?" Hero laughs. "You're worse than Margaret."

John holds up his hands in defence. "It's Conrade's fault. If I could, I'd never think about those people or that time in my life again."

Hero considers him, her voice softening. "You hated it that much?"

John stares at his plate, a crease appearing in his brow. "...You already know what an asshole I was back then. I was miserable and wanted everyone else to be as well."

"No one's their best self in school. The influx of hormones combined with the stress of academia, it makes asses out of us all."

"And yet, you're training to become a teacher." His gaze returns to her, the corner of his mouth rising.

She gives a sheepish smile. "I am. I want to help students through that difficult time in their lives. They need teachers who are understanding and supportive. That's who I want to become."

She ducks her head as she realises she is rambling. John is gazing at her, mouth curved in a smile. Her heart skips.

"What is it?"

He says nothing but leans forward to kiss her. By now, they are well-practised in kissing each other, their mouths slotting together perfectly. A fluttering builds in her stomach; slowly, she lets herself fall into him. His robe has fallen open and her hands rove his bare chest; her kisses becoming urgent as his fingers card through her hair, matted and stinking of chlorine.

"Hero…" he pants and she becomes aware of something burgeoning against her side. "Hero… what is… what is it you want?"

He draws back. She follows but his hand under her chin stills her, prompting her to meet his gaze. It takes a moment for her mind to catch-up to his question and then she flounders.

"I — um — I — I'm not looking for — for a relationship," she stammers and instantly cringes. This is probably the worst time to say that, half-naked in his kitchen, after having spent the last couple of hours making out with him.

But John doesn't look offended, his expression cool, without judgement. "I figured as much. I'm not looking for one either. But do you want to keep kissing like we are or take this… further?"

Hero's heart palpitates.

He kisses her throat. "We can keep doing this. Whatever you want."

Her chest squeezes at his reassurance and she remembers Margaret's words from the beach. Just have fun, it doesn't need to be serious.

She swallows then wets her lips, clutching his open robe. "I think… I want to see the bedroom of the notorious John Aragon."

He considers her for several seconds, then a smirk breaks across his face. "Think about my bedroom a lot?"

"No-Not at all."

His mouth crooks, his drying hair sticking up at odd ends where she has tugged on it, resembling devil's horns. "You'll be disappointed. Adele had my old room converted into a meditation suite as soon as I moved out. I'm using one of the guest rooms now."

Hero recalls that Adele is John's step-mother and Pedro's birth mother. While it is not uncommon for parents to redecorate after their children leave home, the intention seems clear. She doubts Pedro's bedroom has been touched.

"Has that spoiled your fantasy?"

Hero frowns. "I never had any fantasies about you."

He leans forwards to nip at her ear. "No?"

In one swift motion he lifts her off her stall. She squeaks, legs wrapping around his waist, shocked by his strength. He carries her through the house, not upstairs but to another section of this endless place. Hero clings to him, trying not to melt like butter in his arms. He carries her into the guest suite and plunks her onto the double-bed. He stands over her, grin far too self-satisfied.

She tries to glower at him but the giddiness of the situation hits her and she starts giggling. John settles on the bed before her. Exuberance rushes through her and she surges forwards, capturing his mouth in hers. Now that she is here in his room, all that nervous adrenaline transforms into desire.

She shoves him off her. Concern shines in his gaze but before he can ask, she speaks. "You said before that you wanted my attention. Show me how."

Her boldness surprises even her. John's gaze widens, then goes dark, a determined set to his jaw. He stands from the bed, his hands going to the knot in his robe's belt. His mouth ticks up and then the robe drops to the floor.

Hero hadn't noticed John remove his sodden boxes but it is just as well because if she had realised he was walking around naked under his robe she surely would have combusted. She almost does now as she takes him in.

Back in school, when the other girls gushed about wanting to bed John Aragon, Hero's skin would crawl, burning hot. She thought her discomfort stemmed from John's previous actions against her, and maybe it had (in part). But now she wonders if this attraction has always been there, simmering under her skin. Now she sits back and lets herself look and look and look…

His hand curls around his erection and she watches, transfixed, as he tugs on it. "What are you thinking?"

"That the rumours about you were true…"

He makes a surprised chuckle. "Rumours?"

Hero's face feels on fire, all the blood in her cheeks and none in her brain. "From school… things… other girls said…"

"Ah." He prowls forwards onto the bed. "Well, there is only one girl whose thoughts I care about now."

Hero trembles as he crawls closer.

"Hero…" He looks at her with those obsidian black eyes of his. "...what do you want?"

Thoughts, images, sensations blur through her mind, setting her nerves tingling. She feels her mouth open and hears herself answer, clear and unwavering, "I want you to fuck me."

Hunger shudders across John's face, turning predatory. "That… I can do." His hand runs up her leg; when he reaches the hem of her robe, he grabs the belt, toying with it. "Are you going to remove this?"

"Yes." Hero quivers with newfound daring, flashing a coquettish smile. "Or you can."

John pulls the belt from its knot as if he is opening a Christmas present and Hero holds still, trembling like an electric surge. His mouth latches onto her throat, kissing down her collarbone as he slides the robe from her shoulders, exposing more of her skin. The robe slumps into a heap around her waist, leaving her in her bedraggled underwear. She can't imagine she makes a very sexy picture but he inhales hard, a wolfish gleam entering his eyes. He pounces on her, kissing her like he means to gobble her up (and she wouldn't mind if he did).

"I wanted you the instant I saw you at The Ducat… and when you spoke to me you were so sexy and beautiful…" he pants into her lips, "...Then at the beach, in that bikini… I couldn't keep my eyes off you… I could barely keep my hands… and you think… I was interested in Rosaline? Hero… it was you that I wanted, but I thought you'd never give me the time of day knowing who I was…"

"I'm here." She grips his shoulders. "I'm in your bed. What are you going to do about it?"

He grins, teeth pressing into her throat. His hands run down her back, finding the clasp of her bra and unhooking it. The limp fabric is tossed aside somewhere in the room, her panties joining it. Now there is only the satin sheets beneath her and John's naked skin pressed to hers. He stares at her with a starving look and Hero cannot remember the last time someone looked at her with such intense wanting or she felt this desperate need for another person. Sex with Claudio had become a tepid routine long before their break-up. Now she courses with molten desire, wanting to feel John inside her, to touch him and be touched everywhere.

"John… John…" She tries to convey her wants, her needs, through the gasping of his name.

His hands slide along the inside of her thighs, parting her legs so that he can position himself between them. His fingers comb across her tender flesh, so close to the place where she is most sensitive.

"Can I…?"

"Yes," she pleads.

His fingers sink into her wet folds. Licks of pleasure spark through her, scattering cinders, igniting in her blood and setting her ablaze.

Oh. Ohh.

Colours dance before her eyes as his fingers caress the throbbing core of her, finding that sweetest of spots with a speed and skill that robs her of breath. His thumb rolls her clit as his other hand massages her breasts, playing with her hardened nipples. She clings to him, shocked and shuddering. She hadn't known… another's touch could feel like this…

"John, John, John—"

This is neither routine nor tepid. The sensations he is sending through her are dizzying, delightful, defying all past experience. Warmth gushes where he touches her and she feels it, leaking around his fingers.

Oh God. Oh God—

"That's right, baby…" he is muttering, "You're perfect, so perfect… let me hear how good it feels…"

It makes her trembling all the more intense. She feels herself frayed and coming apart. She wraps her hand around his, causing him to still. Wild eyes leap to hers.

"Put a condom on now!"

He stares, hair strewn and falling across his sweat-slicked brow. Then he lurches into action. His fingers leave her, causing her to whine as her walls clench around emptiness. John stumbles from the bed in search of a condom. As she watches him rummage, tripping over a discarded robe in the process, she is reassured that this hunting means he is not having girls over every night.

He returns, foil packet in his hand, a look of boyish triumph on his face that has her giggling. She snatches it from his hand with a playful smile, motioning for him to settle on the bed. He complies, looking bemused at this turn of tables. Hero rips the packet open and takes out the condom. With a coy bat of her lashes, she shuffles to John's side. He relaxes his posture, presenting himself to her and ooh he is art.

She wraps her fingers around his hardened cock, unable to fit him in her whole hand. She pumps his throbbing length, enjoying the garbled sounds he cannot contain, precome leaking over her hand in pearly tendrils.

"Hero, Hero, sweetheart, please…"

She rolls the condom over him, then before he has time to react, she shoves him onto his back, swinging her leg over his hips, and sinks herself down onto his straining cock. Her head falls back gasping with the sudden fullness, breathing through the stretch. Perhaps she shouldn't have taken him so fast but she couldn't wait. She can feel him pressed right against her, pulses of pain and pleasure shooting through her.

She bows forward, bracing herself on the bed and looks into John's mesmerised face. He stares at her like she is divine and she feels possessed. She rolls her hips, lifting herself a little off him then slamming back down. Frissons of ecstasy fork through her as his head strikes inside her again and again.

"Hero—ah—Hero—"

She increases her pace, each thrust punctuated by a groan from John, growing louder each time as he quakes beneath her, losing control. She smiles to see it. He has apologised for his past cruelties and, though she has not said it in simple words, she has forgiven him. Still, it gives her a wicked thrill to see John Aragon falling apart beneath her, desperate and moaning her name, to have this power over him.

"Hero—Hero—oh fuck—"

She spreads her hands over his torso "What if I stopped right now? If I left you like this?"

His eyes flash, dangerous and panicked. She can read it in his face, if she made good on her threat and left him, he wouldn't fight her, though it would leave him in great discomfort. The idea distils her, she feels like liquid.

His hands creep over her thighs. "Noo… I can… I can make this good for you…"

His voice is hoarse, a crack of urgency in it.

She softens. "You are," she reassures him and resumes moving. "It is good, so good. You are being so good for me, babe."

He comes with a shout, shuddering inside her. She quickens her pace, riding him through his orgasm, relishing the flutter of emotions across his face.

He collapses against the pillows. "...H-Hero…"

As his cock goes limp, Hero slows, her own hopes of an orgasm out of reach. She eases herself from him, sitting down on the bed, her knee drawn to her chest.

John has been staring at the ceiling, lost to some other plain, but now his gaze snaps to her with startling clarity. "You didn't come."

She shakes her head with a smile. "It's alright. I enjoyed myself."

He moves faster than she could have anticipated given his sluggish state seconds ago. Her back hits the sheets and John is above her like before.

"I told you," his voice is a purr, "I would make this good for you."

His fingers slide inside her, walls loosened and oversensitive from riding his cock. With three fingers he works her over, stroking that spot inside her. sending white hot pleasure ricocheting through her with each touch until she is crying out.

"ohoohOHJOOHHNNN!"

She descends from her peak, blinking through a blissed out haze. John grins down at her, his fingers glistening with her come. As he takes them into his mouth, tongue flicking out, another mini orgasm wracks her frame, and Hero knows she is in trouble.