We'd hunkered down as the storm got worse. It was pitch black outside, raining so hard that the water hitting the windows was near deafening, the road outside our apartment building a grey slurry of muddy water and garbage. Our phones had gone flat hours ago, the only light we had now coming from a battery powered camping lantern and a couple of flashlights. We were balancing a torch on a stack of books on a bedside table, shining on the pack of cards between us on the mattress.
"An eight?"
"Go fish," he told me, smiling a little as he leaned back against the wall, the blankets still draped over his legs. We were both ignoring that he was too weak to get up, and definitely wouldn't have been upright if it wasn't for the structure behind him. "Do you have a six?"
I rolled my eyes, begrudgingly giving him the card. It may have been a child's game, but he was kicking my ass despite his headache. I watched him as he put another pair down beside him.
"Have you got a king?"
"Go fish," I grinned at him. He looked tired, like he might drop off to sleep sitting there, but he'd tolerated my stupid card games for the last few hours as a distraction from the weather. "Need a break?"
"If you'll get back under the blankets with me?"
Pushing the cards away and crawling up the mattress, I shuffled under the bed covers beside him, both of us jumping when I touched his thigh and my hand met bare skin - he hadn't been out of bed yet, and I'd forgotten the state I'd left him last night when I was tucking him in again. "Sorry," I said quickly, drawing it back into my own lap.
"No, it's...it's okay," he said softly, reaching over to close his fingers around mine. He kept his arm there, resting on my leg as my heart raced irrationally. His faint warmth leached through my clothing and I found myself too scared to talk in case he pushed me away, settling for rubbing my thumb across the backs of his knuckles instead.
Fox decided to join us, settling in a fluffy puddle between us, her back pressed tightly against his thigh and her needle-claw sinking through my sweatpants. I dragged my fingers through her coat, wondering when we'd realised we'd accidentally adopted a long-haired cat. Her fur was fine, like cotton wool, tangling in my fingertips, but wonderfully soft. Her gentle purrs only added to the appeal. "It's a wonder she's not covered in knots," I commented.
Carlisle mumbled something that made him blush, suddenly focused on the duvet as I looked at him to repeat himself.
"Pardon?" I probed eventually.
"I brush her," he mumbled again. "Every morning."
"You do not brush the cat," I chuckled.
He laughed a little too, sighing as he leaned his head on my shoulder. "I do. She'd be so matted if I didn't - shut up, she likes it." He elbowed me in the ribs as I started to cackle a little harder, getting the giggles himself.
"You can't look after yourself, but you can groom the cat every day," I teased. I wriggled my hand free of his, draping my arm over his shoulders instead, and reached for his fingers with the other.
"I guess," he admitted. "And it's easy; she's good about it when she's in the bed. I got her a special brush from the vet and everything - it's good for her."
I was sure I fell in love with him a little more, squeezing him in place of telling him. "That's sweet; you're such a good cat parent."
"We should have another child," he murmured into my neck. I couldn't tell if he was joking, and by the tone of his voice, neither could he. "So she has a playmate."
"Absolutely not," I chuckled. My arm dropped down his back to grip his hip, my forearm rubbing against his skin where his shirt had ridden up and left an exposed sliver above the waist of his underwear. "Did you hit your head on the floor yesterday?"
He shook his head, his cheeks warming again. "No, but it is your birthday in a few weeks. You got me a cat, it's only fair if I return the favour?"
I struggled to keep the smile on my face, sick suddenly. "Fox was a one-off," I murmured instead, dropping a kiss on the top of his head.
"What do you want to do for your birthday this year?" he asked carefully, hedging the subject.
"Nothing, Carlisle, I'll be working anyway." Thank god; it got me out of anything family related, and none of my coworkers knew. Asking Carlisle not to hate me seemed like too far of a stretch, though.
"Are you going to your parent's? Or Eleazar's? Or Riley could come here, and I could go-"
"I'll be working, baby, and I don't want to do any of that," I tried not to grumble, but he must have heard the bitterness in my tone. "And don't you go anywhere, either, just forget about it. You're sick."
"Okay." It was clear he wasn't going to. Still a little awkward with me, he shifted under the cat, off-balancing her as he wriggled against my side, his cool skin brushing mine. He lifted his head, moving it to my chest, his arm lightly resting over my abdomen.
I closed my arms around him, ignoring the whiskers and tiny teeth that prodded at my wrists in search of my affection. "How are you feeling?"
"Lightheaded, but not so bad while we're sitting here."
"Do you think you could stomach something to eat?" It was after lunch, and he had to have been starving, realistically, but he looked unsure. "I'll make you a sandwich?"
Much to my surprise, he nodded. Finally. "That'd be nice?"
"Sit tight." I untangled myself from him to get out of bed, stealing the flashlight. "Don't get up; I don't want you to pass out."
"I'll be good, Gar."
.
.
The sandwich didn't go down well. He was doubled over the toilet bowl within half an hour, begging me to leave him alone until it was over. I made the bed and tidied up a little bit while I waited for it to pass, glad in a way - I really didn't have a strong enough stomach to look after him like this. He was pale by the time he stumbled back into the room, the back of his hand pressed to his lips. "I need to sit down," he gasped when I held out my hand to him.
My hands closed around his forearm, guiding him forward as he stumbled blindly. He tripped, stumbling into me, his palms landing on my chest.
"...Gotta sit down, or I'll faint again," he warned desperately.
I was beginning to loathe the smell of mint toothpaste. "Carlisle," I sighed. "Okay, baby." I was well aware that he was going to puke again as soon as he was semi-comfortable, and that it was going to be me that had to clean up again, but his knees were already weakening under him and he was swaying dizzily in my arms. I ushered him back to bed, dropping a trash can beside him and throwing the blankets over him. "I'll be in the kitchen."
.
.
I didn't go to the kitchen. It only took twenty minutes to clean up the bathroom after last night's episode, but it took me far longer to find what he'd been injuring himself with. There was nothing in the bathroom cupboards that was sharp, my dig through the bedside tables unfruitful, and I didn't want to consider kitchen knives. In the end, I came to the realisation we were going to have to have that conversation. "Hey, um..."
"Yeah, Gar?" He looked semi-relaxed, and I didn't want to disturb him. It had taken a while for the nausea to subside enough for him to sleep, but he'd finally been able to settle in bed again. I already knew this was going to make him lose his shit.
I swallowed. "I hate to have to ask you this, but, uh, what are you, uh, using to uh…" I trailed off, hoping he would understand.
He quite clearly didn't. "Um…"
Folding my legs under myself, I sat on the edge of the mattress, my hand finding his ankle, needing to touch him. "Carlisle, what are you using to hurt yourself?"
He snatched his leg away, bristling. "A-ah...I-I, um, I-I d-don't- uh, Gar, I…" He stammered for so long I wondered if he was having a stroke. Again, his face was starting to burn, tears welling up but managing not to fall. "I, um, I don't know."
"What'd you mean you don't know? Of course you know, babe. Please?" I reached up to catch his hand, trapping it between both of mine and kissing his fingers. "Please. I want to keep you safe, and I need you to tell me," I pleaded gently.
His breath was catching, a hard blush settling in his cheeks, and his hands were starting to tremble. "Can't we just pretend it didn't happen? I never meant for you to see it, and I don't want you to have to deal with it." He didn't react as I shifted closer, his spine only stiffening when I knelt beside him and my knee touched his hip.
"We live together; of course I was going to find out," I murmured. "I'm not trying to prosecute you over this, I'm just trying to help. I want you to be safe." Still trying to soothe him, I pressed my lips to his forehead, feeling his panicked breaths jarring his body.
He shook his head. "Stop it. Please."
I sighed, air hissing between my teeth. Eventually, I realised I was going to have to back down, or risk fighting with him again. "Alright."
"Thank you." It came out as a whisper. We were quiet, awkward suddenly, and I didn't know what to say to him that wouldn't form an argument or a panic attack. "What about a puppy?" he asked quietly.
"What?" I laughed. The sound came more out of relief than anything else.
"For your birthday." He was barely hiding a smile, teasing me.
"Okay, now you've got to stop it," I warned, only half kidding. My fingers brushed the back of his hand, rubbing gently.
"You don't like puppies?"
"Carlisle, we live in a one bedroom apartment seven stories up in the middle of the city, with a balcony that I don't think we should both stand on at the same time." Unable to help it, I was starting to laugh with him, momentarily forgetting our troubles enough to drag him into a tight hug. I almost regretted it. Almost. Except he slowly wrapped his arms around my neck, his fingers tangling in the ends of my hair, resting his chin on my shoulder. "This is nice," I murmured, my lips close to his ear.
"Yeah. Yeah, it is," he mumbled back. "Do you want to play a board game or something? I can't sit in bed any longer or I'll go crazy."
I knew it was a distraction. I knew he was just trying to get away from a difficult conversation. But it was hard to think while he was so close, and he was warm, and he smelt so good, and I couldn't bring myself to care all that much. "I think we have wine in the cupboard, if you want to have a glass with me."
"I don't think I should have alcohol, but it'd be good to spend some time together that I'm not ruining by being sick." He had a small smile on his face when he pulled back, and whether it was fake or not, he looked a little happier than he had an hour ago. "I'll meet you in the kitchen?"
I took that as his hint that he needed a few minutes alone. "Sure." Lightly kissing his forehead, I unfolded myself and got up.
.
.
His inability to drink wasn't going to stop me from having one. I still got down two glasses, filling his with orange juice while I poured wine into mine. Sitting at the table was going to get uncomfortable for him if he had to for any length of time, so I opted to spread a blanket out across the floor and dropped a couple of pillows down on top of it. We had a few games in the closet I kept for Kate, and I dragged them all out, grabbing our lantern to get some light in the living room. It was cozy, if nothing else. A picnic in the dark.
"Cute," he commented as he wandered into the room. The short walk had left him leaning against the wall, trying not to trip.
"Come here, you, don't fall." Chuckling, I caught his waist, letting him hold onto me until he was safely on the ground.
He laughed a little when I handed him the glass and he noticed the juice. "Thanks, Gar."
"You choose the game?" I suggested. It was only fair, after he'd put up with my antics all morning. My hands wandered over his waist as he leaned forward to grab a box at random.
"Why have we not had a board game night before?" He sat back, so close he was almost in my lap, his hand automatically drifting to my thigh.
"I didn't think you'd be into it," I admitted. Or that I would. But any time together at the moment was a blessing. I took the game from him, chuckling at the snake and ladders scrawled across the front. I suspected the choice had come from needing something mindless, but I wasn't complaining - the wine was already going to my head.
He unfolded the game to spread in front of us, handing me the dice. "You roll; I picked."
"Alright." I tumbled the cube across the carpet, counting my away across the board. He copied, ending a space ahead of me. The next time I moved, I counted my way forward, nudging my placeholder one space higher up the board than I should have, grinning at him as I slid it up the ladder.
Carlisle coughed, distracting me momentarily, and then pushed it forward again, this time directly in the path of a snake, sending me back to the beginning of the game.
"You cheated," I accused. I hugged him, using wine induced courage to pull him into my lap, kissing his shoulder.
"You cheated first," he reminded me with a laugh.
We went back and forth for a while, neither one of us abiding by the rules and moving pieces whenever the other wasn't looking. He finished the glass of juice, pinching a few mouthfuls of my wine before I refilled the glass. I was having problems keeping my hands to myself now that he'd never pulled himself out of my lap.
.
.
"Can I kiss you?" I whispered, spurred on by alcohol-born confidence. We'd forgotten the game, settling for conversation instead.
He nodded, shivering a little as my knuckles brushed along his jaw, my hand coming to cup his chin. He met me halfway, holding his breath as our lips met. I groaned, a flush of heat rushing through my body as his tongue gently rolled against mine. His hands drifted from his lap, one gripping my thigh while the other caught a fistful of my t-shirt. My fingers weaved through the ends of his hair as I dug my knees into the carpet to remind myself to behave - it had been so long since there was any intimacy between us that a slightly heated kiss was all it took to make me hot under the collar. The alcohol wasn't helping. I needed a cold shower and some alone time.
He drew in a quick breath before bringing our lips together again, the hand that was driving me crazy drifting higher up my sweatpants, the fabric getting tighter as I prayed he wouldn't notice how little control I had over myself. Pressure was building in the pit of my stomach, and I wiggled uncomfortably, panting to catch my breath as we broke apart again. "Garrett, I…"
I really needed that shower. "Yeah?" I breathed, trying not to let my voice wobble.
"Nothing, just...kiss me again?" His cheeks were a sweet shade of pink, while I knew my face was beet red.
I dropped my hands down, grasping his waist this time, crushing our mouths together and sneaking my fingers under his t-shirt against his skin. He shifted, his palms moving to my chest, nudging me under I realised he wanted me to lie back. I sank back against the blanket, panicking slightly as he settled between my legs, my knees at his hips. His hands rubbed up my chest, fidgeting with the fabric shirt. Part of me expected him to freak out - I was, knowing that he could feel exactly what he was doing to me. "I-I think I need to cool down," I admitted, sweat starting to run down the back of my neck.
"Take your shirt off?" he suggested, smirking a little.
"No, Carlisle, really. I-" I was going to come in my pants for the first time since I was a teenager. I wondered if he was torturing me on purpose - he had to know what he was doing.
He dropped another soft kiss on my lips. "Don't move."
"What?" I asked as he started to get up.
"I mean it," he grinned. "Put your hands above your head and keep them there."
My heart pounding in my chest, I did what he said, shifting my hips a little as though it would somehow help me. He was torturing me. And I liked it. "Am I under arrest?" I tried to tease, too desperate to sound as secure as I wanted to.
"If you want to be?" he teased, gone from my sight, the comment he made about handcuffs making my cock throb despite almost being out of my hearing. I was fairly sure that wasn't what he'd gone to get - we didn't own any. I thought. I suddenly wished we did.
I waited impatiently for him to come back, squirming as he made me wait. I calmed down just a little once I saw him again, remembering the state he was in. "You okay?" I asked softly. As usual when he stood, he'd gotten a little pale, his hands shaking slightly.
He nodded. "Are you?"
I swallowed thickly, my hands still over my head. In the dim lighting, I couldn't see what he'd dropped on the ground above me, but he knelt again, his stomach brushing the front of my pants as he moved to kiss me, his lips teasing my throat and my jaw as I struggled to breathe.
His hands had wandered to the hem of my shirt, tugging it. "Are you going to take this off, or should I?"
I was panting. I obediently tore the offending item over my head, very aware that he wasn't doing the same. It didn't seem fair to ask him to, either. He was smiling though, shifting over me to kiss my chest as I tangled my fingers in his hair, tugging lightly. "Carlisle, if you're not feeling well, then-"
"Shut up, Gar."
I nodded again, nibbling my lip. "Fuck." I lifted myself a little as he pulled on my pants, letting him move the fabric despite how vulnerable being the only one undressed made me feel. I wondered if that was the point. It was fucking hot being the centre of his attention, though. Now that he had me naked, I didn't feel so bad about winding him up too. I raked my fingers down his back, squeezing his ass through his clothing, letting out an unavoidable groan when he rewarded me by pushing his hips against mine. "What are we doing?"
"You want to stop?" he questioned, somehow having the self control to freeze, despite his erection digging into my thigh now.
"No, god no, I just don't want you to hurt yourself." I caught his chin with my thumb, making sure our next kiss was gentle. If this was happening, it needed to be soft. He needed to feel loved, and not used afterwards. Maybe that was what he was up to.
He was having a hard time getting undressed. His kisses were getting anxious, the control he had before slipping, his breath hitching as my fingers brushed his thighs.
"Carlisle, we don't have to do this," I insisted. Every inch of me hoped he wasn't going to back down - I'd never push him, but I'd go crazy if he'd get this far and then give it up.
"I want to," he murmured, his lips on my neck, sucking gently until I was sure he'd left a mark. What he wanted, obviously. Maybe this was a Heidi thing.
Getting increasingly desperate, I tried to squirm under him, my eyes rolling back as he allowed me the friction. There was a plastic crack, but I didn't register the sound until I felt his hand between my legs again, this time covered in lube. Goosebumps rushed across my arms as he touched me with the cold substance, and I was digging my fingertips into his hips. "Oh god, please, Carlisle."
"Please what?" He liked the control. Having me writhing underneath him and completely at his mercy.
"More," I ground out, gritting my teeth to keep from openly begging him to let me come. I didn't want to, though, not yet. I wanted him in the same state I was.
He raised an eyebrow at me, but whatever smart remark he was about to make dissolved on his tongue as I gained enough coherence to palm him through his sweatpants. "Y-you want to fuck me?" His hand faulted momentarily and he sat back on his knees, letting me prop myself up on my elbows.
I watched him struggle to keep composure, waiting until his breathing had almost calmed before catching the waist of his pants with my thumb, slipping my hand inside. As much as I was enjoying having him on top of me, I wanted to make him as painfully hard as he'd made me. "You want to peg me, baby?" I breathed, not hating the idea.
He had to think about that, and I didn't make it easy for him. It had taken him off guard, and I watched him slowly decide that maybe he did want that. I suddenly definitely wanted that. "Are you sure?"
I nodded. "Fuck me, Carlisle. I want you." Catching his free hand, I kissed the back of it, lacing our fingers together. "Please." My heart was pounding, the pit in my stomach tightening until I was reaching for my own cock, only to find my hand playfully swatted away. "Please, baby, I need you to make me come- I want you."
"Not yet," he told me, smirking again. He hovered over me again, kissing my lips again, his tongue rolling against mine. It was almost enough to distract me from him gently pressing a finger into me. I wriggled a little, and he pulled back to check I was okay, freezing until I nodded.
I set about trying to get his pants down before I lost it completely, shoving them down his thighs. I reached above my head, assuming - correctly - that he'd dropped a condom there, and tore it open with my teeth. He started to fumble as I slipped it on him, but started to prepare me in earnest finally. His mouth closed around my cock as he eased another finger into me, pressing in places that made my toes curl. "I-I'm gonna come," I told him again, except this time it came out a pathetic whimper.
"Not yet," he said again, gently. His lips found mine, and he settled himself between my legs. "Are you ready?"
I nodded out of fear of the embarrassing noise I might make if I opened my mouth. Instead, I invested myself in his kiss, knotting my hand in his hair as he pushed into me, my other hand resting on the back of his neck. I was trying not to concentrate too intensely as he shifted inside of me, shifting to meet him in all the right places, my breath catching as he started to stroke me again. "Carlisle."
"Yeah?" He was out of breath too, pressing his forehead against my collarbone as he tried to build up a steady rhythm. His cheeks were pink from the exertion, as he tried to pretend that he wasn't struggling just a little. "Do you want to stop?"
"No, baby, I want- I want to- I need to-" I was an incoherent idiot. Trying to make the most of this, I moved his mouth back to mine, grabbing and pulling, needing him to be faster, suddenly loving my loss of control. All of that compounded when he pushed into me a little deeper. "Fuck, do that again?" I pleaded, the hand on his neck shifting to dig into his hip, holding him closer.
He did. Again and again and again, until I couldn't remember my own name. I didn't have time to warn him. I barely heard his soft complaint as I pulled on him too roughly, resting my cheek on his shoulder as I rode out my orgasm.
.
.
As I started to come down from my high panting to catch my breath, something slowly started to dawn on me. "You didn't finish, you okay?" I whispered to him, stroking my hand down his back.
He nodded, but his face was hidden in my chest. "...got tired…"
"Are you sure you're alright? That was a lot of, uh, activity for someone who hasn't been well." I kissed his temple, slipping my arms up to hug his waist, still relishing the feeling of having him against me.
"Yeah, I'm just tired."
I held him there a while longer, wrapped in the blanket, rubbing between his shoulders while my heart rate calmed. "Was all that about Heidi?" I probed carefully.
His face started to burn, and it was enough of an answer for me. "A little."
"You don't need to worry about her, Carlisle. I don't want you to feel like I'm expecting anything from you - I had fun tonight, but if it's difficult for you, it's not worth it," I reminded him.
"I know, Gar, I'm just being dumb."
I tilted his chin up, forcing him to look at me, gently kissing his lips. "You're not dumb." Another soft kiss. "What do you need from me to feel better?"
He was quiet for a few seconds, his hand drifting from my hip to my sternum, pressed under his cheek. "You're doing a lot for me right now, and-"
I gently rolled him onto his back, pushing my mouth to his again. "I can make you feel good?" I whispered, kissing his throat, my lips trailing down his chest.
He tangled one hand in my hair, humming softly as he shook his head. "I'd rather just…" His other arm closed around my shoulders, stopping me.
Alright. "Come here, then." Sliding onto my side, I kept my arm around him, drawing him against my ribs. It seemed to make him happier, if nothing else; he snuggled closer into me, managing to smile again as I adjusted the pillows under his head, trapping us both in the blanket.
"I miss this," he mumbled.
"You don't have to; this doesn't have to stop," I reminded him. "If you can still stand me."
He sighed. "I need you, Garrett."
"I've told you before; I'm not going anywhere."
.
.