Just a oneshot with little plot and a lot of fluff. All the angsty stuff happens in the backstory, and then it's smooth sailing.
"You are a control freak," Lizzy sighs into the phone. "I mean to the degree that people throw around words like mental health… medication… therapy."
"I suppose this is where I make the obligatory pot and kettle remark." Darcy pulled off snark in a way that she envied at times. Not particularly when it was directed at her, however.
It had been just over a year since they first met, and it was probably difficult to remember with true accuracy, but they had both started their history with an instant and uncomfortable attraction to one another. Unfortunately, these were not the kind of people for whom an almost obsessive interest in someone was a welcome feeling.
Elizabeth's first instinct was to take a step back, to have time to study him as much as possible, while pretending to merely glance at him from time to time in casual interest. His was to dismiss her outright, hoping that by doing so he could convince himself of how indifferent he was to her, as well as to discourage her from seeking him out; he, of course, assuming it was only a matter of time that she would.
To be fair, Fitzwilliam Darcy had spent his life being sought out against his wishes. He was handsome and wealthy, with old-school manners. Any of these three qualities would recommend him to the opposite sex, but he was also both socially awkward and introverted; constant social interactions were wearing. He much preferred the company of a few intimate friends and family. There was also an abundance of people who were interested in befriending him for his wealth and status alone, so this made him especially wary around strangers.
Throughout the years of stress and responsibility that had been thrust upon him at such a young age, he had developed a cold mask that kept people at arm's length. The problem was how particularly beneficial being an asshole was for him. For one, it made other members of the board take him a little more seriously, despite his barely legal age status. Another point in his favor was that being cold and distant made it difficult for women to flirt with him.
But then William Darcy saw Elizabeth Bennet for the first time, and he couldn't stop himself from keeping track of her movements, from becoming addicted to meeting those eyes as she threw her own confused and interested look his way, of eavesdropping on her to hear snippets of a smart, teasing conversation that he only wanted more of.
Therapists could study his next actions and give justifications and theories on reasons and motivations, but the bottom line is that Will Darcy freaked out just a little bit and reacted... badly.
So, despite what could have been the beginning of a very easy friendship between two so similar in intellect and morals, they pulled away and fought instead. He began looking for flaws to dissuade his own interest and she mirrored his opening gambit by seeing only flaws in him, to the point of complete blindness to anything else.
Six months passed by until he finally accepted, and was prepared to announce to the world, that she was special. Despite his many months of finding reasons that she wasn't worth his time, he concluded that there wasn't anything he would rather be doing than be with her. He craved time with her, even to simply sit in the same room, which was really all he ever allowed himself to do around her.
Unfortunately, he shared this revolution with her; shared his daily struggle with every part of her life he disagreed with, how extremely different they were socioeconomically, and just how hard her family was to get past.
In very great, painstaking detail.
"Please tell me that was your first attempt at telling someone you like them."
She had done her very best to laugh it off, but the sounds coming out were hollow as she tried to mask the feeling of rejection that had cut her deeply. It was what finally snapped him out of his self-absorbed speech to see the disgust and outrage on her face. And, because he had spent so many months studying her expressions, he also saw the hurt.
It wouldn't be long after this disastrous meeting before she asked herself exactly why it had hurt her so much; why she was unable to laugh it off, as she had been able to do for every other unpleasant thing in her life? Why did his opinion matter so very much to her?
Not in this moment, though. In this moment, she was furious.
"I honestly can't believe it of my own sex. There's just no way you can tell a woman so thoroughly to her face how hard it was to get past all her terrible life choices, to be able to ignore her low-class family, to be resigned into asking her out, and she falls at your feet in gratitude, as you so clearly expect me to do."
What she didn't know was that, actually, she was right.
He hadn't ever told a woman he had romantic feelings for them; nor had he really ever even had to try to get someone to like him before. His family loved him no matter what; they put up with him despite his often-sour or cold attitude. His friendships were few and close, but it was with people like Charles, who had to make the effort before Darcy would. There had been other women he had been attracted to, of course, but even then, Darcy just had to drop his cold mask, show a little interest, and they would do most of the work.
So, if she had known it actually was the first time Darcy had told a woman he liked her, she might have taken a moment and given him a chance to explain himself. Although his words had pushed so many of her buttons, and she had been biting her tongue around him for so long that it might not have mattered anyway.
At the end of the day, whatever factors contributed the most did not matter – he said what he said, and she unloaded on him.
Using that sharp mind and tongue of hers he so admired, she very colorfully let him know exactly how little she thought of him and his prideful opinions, peppering in his own major flaws throughout. He would come to realize later that he, too, had been hurt, even if he acknowledged and accepted that she had made many good, accurate points.
But that all came later. After letting the shock of her rejection sink in, he responded in kind.
They tore each other open with how well they really understood the other; giving accurate insights into each other's true thoughts and feelings, despite the masks they both wore. And maybe that would have been the end of it - that explosive afternoon, after she finally left the room and hid upstairs. They were both about to go off in different directions the next morning anyway, and there was no reason to think they would ever meet again.
They did, as he pointed out in his little monologue, move in very different circles.
However, neither could let the other's words go. They were forced to acknowledge that, despite how painful it was, they had both been cynical, prideful, and judgmental. Most of all neither could help thinking the other one might have had a point and began to overanalyze their own behavior. Darcy miserably realized he actually liked her even more after her deservedly harsh rejection of his offer that had nothing to do with what she would be getting out of his interest in her and everything to do with who he was as a person.
As she was leaving Charlotte and Bill's house, he came up, helped Bill put her bags in the trunk of the car, handed her a letter when no one was looking, and walked off.
For the first half of the ride, she made purposeful conversation with Charlotte about anything and nothing. Even when her idiot of a cousin chimed in, she encouraged the conversation so she would literally have no brainpower to focus on the folded-up envelope currently burning a hole in her back pocket.
They were halfway between The Collins's and her aunt and uncles when they agreed to stop and eat. Bill found an antique shop he wanted to peruse and she finally couldn't wait another second. She found a spot under a tree to wait for them and settled in to become furious again.
To her complete shock, though, it was a letter of apology.
He explained his past with George Wickham, his true opinion of Jane and Charlie's relationship - for it, despite his reservations that his friend is more interested in her than she was in him - and then… then, there was the heartfelt ending to the letter, where he conveyed how sorry he was that he ever made her believe they hated each other.
She could have left it at that, but there was no way she wasn't going to write her own letter, to ease her guilt by apologizing as well. So, she responded by acknowledging how she had been overly critical of him throughout their acquaintance, and how incredibly stupid she felt for ever believing a word George Wickham had said to her while promising faithfully to never speak to the swindler again. She agreed that maybe Jane was more reserved to those who didn't know her, and if their roles were reversed, she might be wary for her as well.
After that, they were forced into a kind of truce for the sake of keeping the peace. Her sister and his best friend are now engaged, after all, and they will be in each other's lives as long as his friendship with Charles and her closeness with Jane lasts. As it was, he was the best man and she was the maid of honor, and they spent a lot of their time sharing the load of wedding preparations.
After their first face-to-face since the letters were sent, Darcy found a way to pull them aside for a brief private chat. They both were desperate to move past their awful first impression and agreed to start fresh. After, they each made the effort to be open and friendly, which had gotten them through the awkward stage.
Once they made it past that, it was surprisingly easy to become friends. They shared a similar sense of humor, and his sardonic attitude blended surprisingly well with her optimistic, tongue-in-cheek one. As a result, they now teased each other over things they used to throw around as insults.
So, when she opens her mouth to argue against his decision to change the flower vendor without asking the bride or groom first, it's with much more humor and patience than it would have been a few months ago.
Before she can say anything, the passenger door on her car is opening and George Wickham slips into the seat next to her.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
In her surprise, she jumped and dropped her phone, which falls between them. Before she can pick it back out of the cup holder where it lands, he grabs her arm roughly, stopping her.
"We need to talk. Drive." He orders. She immediately tries to pull her arm back, scoffing at his audacity.
"Get the fuck out of my car, George," she snaps, tugging more forcefully to escape his grip. He holds fast, though, and when she continues to struggle, he squeezes painfully. She hisses in pain and stops moving. "Let go of me."
"Drive, or I swear to God the next call I make is to Lydia. She still texts me, you know," he threatens casually. "How easy do you think it would be to convince her to come away with me for the weekend?"
She grits her teeth. His hold became lax with her stillness, and she fiercely tugs her arm free. When he starts to pull his phone out, she starts the car; he pauses, putting it back in his pocket.
"Where?" She asks tightly.
"Lambton inn." He directs. "I need a favor, since you and Will are best friends now."
She snorts.
"Just because Darcy doesn't hate me as much as he hates you doesn't mean I'm going to open any doors for you."
"You are on the short list of who gets in to see him and he'll listen to what you have to say, so that's enough." George replies cryptically.
They aren't far, so the drive is quick; he doesn't actually get around to talking about what this favor is. She hasn't stopped thinking about it. What would he need badly enough that he decided to threaten her into his doing his biding? It's not until they pull into the parking garage that he offers up something, something that fills her with dread.
"If you do this favor for me, I promise I'll leave Lydia alone for good."
She knows he must want her to do something very bad to Darcy, when he offers her something that she'd do almost anything to secure.
Almost anything.
"I'm not letting you do anything to Darcy," she tells him quietly, with finality in her tone. His usual charming grin is twisted into a snarl.
"You're going to protect him over your baby sister? Really?" He must see the fire in her eyes and the determined set of her shoulders because he starts to panic a little.
"Lizzy, I swear to you, I'll block her number, go completely radio sile—"
He never gets a chance to finish his offer, because his door is flung open, and Darcy is hauling him out of the car by his neck.
Lizzy gasps and scrambles out of the car too. It's not until this moment that she remembers he had still been on the phone when she dropped it, and had clearly heard enough to know they were headed his way. When she comes around to their side of the car, Darcy grabs a fistful of her sleeve and pulls her firmly behind him. She missed how George ended up on the ground, but Darcy leans down and takes George's shirt collar in his hand, and punches him in the face.
Lizzy jumps when his fist connects.
Honestly, she had not expected it, even as mad as Darcy looks right now, even considering who he is punching. He then pulls the other man up and walks him backwards as George stumbles and trips to keep up with Darcy's speed and ironclad grip. Lizzy still follows the few feet it takes to slam him against the concrete wall of the garage. She's sure the right thing would be to stop the violence, but she's getting too much satisfaction from seeing the man who endangered and played with her sister cowering away from Darcy with a busted lip.
"We both know that I am entirely too lenient when it comes to your schemes, and how you weasel your way into my life time and time again."
Darcy's voice is cold as he grips George's shirt tightly. His speech is made all the more chilling by the stark difference in how passionately violent his actions are and how unemotional his tone is.
"But you learned last year that you can actually push me too far, and that certain people are off limits."
The few inches of freedom George was able to gain become lost as Darcy pushes him roughly against the wall. George flinches violently, clearly expecting another harsh blow at this reference to Darcy's sister.
"Consider this both a warning and a promise. Elizabeth is off limits. In fact, the whole Bennet family is. If you so much as run into her second cousin at the grocery store, I will call in every favor I have ever earned to simply destroy you. In every conceivable way you think I might mean by that." He pauses, making sure the words well and truly sink in before asking, "Do you understand?"
"Yes," George immediately responds, and it's so satisfying to hear without the flippant attitude that usually colors his every word. He tugs at his shirt in Will's grip. Seeming reluctant, and only after watching the other man struggle for a moment, Darcy lets him go.
He then stands back, still keeping himself between Lizzy and George.
"Never come near her again," he finally says.
"I won't!"
George throws his hands up, backing away. Darcy stares at him until he's turned and all but running down Main Street and out of sight. Only then does he turn to Lizzy with his trademark scowl and wild, intense eyes.
"What were you thinking?"
Her jaw actually drops.
"Are you really yelling at me right now for being kidnapped?"
"He is obviously desperate, why would you not bring him right to me? Why would you say no?"
"He's obviously desperate," she throws back at him. "What if he just wanted someone with access to you so he could blown your brains out?"
"Then you don't put yourself between someone crazy enough to try and my security team, who's trained to deal with them!"
She's no longer shocked by his anger; she's scowling right back at him.
"I don't care," she turns her face stubbornly away, locking her jaw. "I'm not bringing a crazy man to you just because your fancy security team might be able to stop him."
"Lizzy-"
"No," she turns fully away, crossing her arms. "And you're being a dick to me right now."
She hears him let out a long breath and then take three steps to come right up behind her. She jumps a little in surprise when his hand moves under her hair to swipe it all over her left shoulder. He then rests his palm against the back of her neck, and the warmth of it relaxes her. She shivers when his thumb starts to move in light, soothing circles.
"Are you okay?"
His voice is low and sincere. As much as she doesn't want to risk losing his touch, she wants to see his face. She turns slowly back to him, her heart rate increasing when he doesn't let his hand drop away.
"Yeah," she assures him, studying his face with a critical eye. "Are you?"
His jaw ticks and his eyes still hold fury in them, but he nods. She looks down and impulsively takes his right hand in both of hers, turning it a bit this way and that to make sure the skin isn't too damaged. His hand squeezes firmly on the back of her neck, causing her to look back up at him and shuffle even closer on instinct.
She doesn't look away. She is, in fact, looking at him with an open and tender gaze that up until now he has only glanced at from time to time. He finally pulls himself out of his dark, angry thoughts to realize what that look in her eyes means. His own gaze softens, though the fire remains, and he tightens the hand in hers in acknowledgment.
Impulsively, quick as a flash, she stretches up on her toes and pecks him on the lips.
They both stare at each other in shock for a beat. Then, Lizzy's eyes turned vulnerable; red tints her cheeks, and she drops her eyes as well as his hand. Will's heart stops at the brief, naked look in her eye, at seeing the strongest, toughest person he knows looking unsure and exposed.
He can't let her pull away now; Will leans towards her, tilting her chin up so she meets his eyes once more. She does, because she's also the bravest person he knows. He might have misread her in the past, but he doesn't think she regrets her impulsive kiss, so he keeps hold of her chin and brings them back together.
She doesn't regret it. She kisses him back.
They kiss for a long time. At first, their hands only grip each other closer. Lizzy alternates her grasp from his shoulders to his hair and back, while Darcy holds her waist before letting his hands wander up and down her back. So far, things had been exploratory between them, almost hesitant. But then Darcy tugs her shirt up and Lizzy whimpers at the first touch of his hot hand on the naked skin of her lower back.
"Darcy," she murmurs. "Wait."
"Sorry," he snatches his hands away from her skin and she whines at the loss of contact.
"Don't be sorry," she holds firmly onto his biceps, so he can't go far. "Just take me upstairs first."
"Upstairs?" His question is more disbelief than misunderstanding.
"Only if you were planning to take my shirt off next," her grin is flirtatious. "I guess we can make out in my car, but - "
He bends and wraps his arms more firmly around her; he lifts and turns with her still in his arms to sprint walks them to the elevators. She throws her head back and laughs at his antics, but when the elevator doors close behind him, his lips on hers stifle her humor. He's in the presidential suite - because of course he is – so he has to put a code in to get them up. This becomes far more difficult to do with Lizzy Bennet wrapped up in his arms and kissing his neck while he tries. But motivation to be alone is a factor so he gets it done. By the time the elevator doors open to the suite, the energy has changed. It's now charged with heat and electricity. They became a little more frantic, a little more desperate and wild. Clothes start coming off, being tossed away with abandon. They become Lizzy and Will, whispered with such affection and an odd mixture of newness and familiarity.
They make it to his bed, which Lizzy distractedly observes is in a room all its own, off the main one. She instinctively teases him about the unnecessarily luxurious suite of rooms when he ends up staying over at Charlie's place most days anyway. The mood changes again, turning playful and challenging. A struggle for dominance leaves Lizzy pinned against the mattress underneath Will, breathlessly giggling in his ear as she surrenders to him; he doesn't think he will ever be as happy as he is in this moment.
"Control freak," she teases, and he laughs with abandon.
Her smile widens and then her eyes turn affectionate.
"You should laugh more often," she whispers, wiggling a hand free to be able to caress his face. "I love when you laugh."
He seems taken aback before leaning down to nuzzle her neck.
"With you in my life, I do," he murmurs into her skin.
She feels a surge of protectiveness and privilege wash over her, and wraps her free hand behind his neck, teasing him with her nails against the sensitive skin.
"Good," she breathes. "Now kiss me, Will."
The control freak does as he's told without hesitation.
At around midnight, Lizzy wakes with a gasp, sitting up in bed and clutching the sheet to her chest. She stares down at a startled Darcy with dread, mutters a few oh shit's and then drops her head into her free hand.
"What?" he finally croaks out, feeling like a cold, heavy stone is pressing on his chest. He can't move, so he even though he suspects what the answer will be he demands, "What's wrong?"
"I left the cake samples in the trunk of the car this whole time," she peeks her head out to look at him again with a frustrated, disappointed frown. "They're wasted."
"Elizabeth," he says weakly, then lets out of breath of relief that turns into a strained laugh."Is that all?"
"Is that all?" She juts her lip out a bit, though her look is reproachful rather than sad. "I wasted all those samples. It took me all afternoon to get them."
"Lizzy— don't ever do that again," he tells her.
She cocks her head at his unexpected tone and words.
"I hadn't planned on doing it the first time."
"No," he finally reaches out a hand to unlock her crossed arms. "Forget the damn cake samples. I'm talking about waking up in my bed freaking out about making a mistake," he clarifies, pulling her firmly down next to him again.
"Oh," she blinks. Then, as she processes his words, she looks sheepish. "Oh. Sorry."
His heart stutters when she leans down and presses soft kisses to his chest, then curls herself more into him. She runs her nails teasingly up his side and along his stomach.
"Sorry," she repeats, whispering it into his skin.
"I'll send someone out to get more samples," he tells her, brushing her wild hair back so he can see her face.
"You have more money than sense, Darcy," she teases her favorite insult, but when she says it smiling up at him so sweetly as she lays her head on his shoulder and wraps her arm around his waist, there's not an ounce in him that's offended. "I'm not letting you tie up one of your poor interns to run my errands. It won't take long; I can do it again tomorrow."
"We promised we wouldn't get the cake samples together," he reminds her. She tilts her head back so she can see the knowing smile on his face. "You said people assumed we were the bride and groom often enough already."
"Is this your way of inviting yourself along?" She raises an eyebrow, but before he can do something stupid like uninvite himself, she hurries to add, "I suppose I'll suffer through it… for Jane's sake."
He teasingly runs his fingers over a ticklish spot on her hip. She laughs and wiggles against him, but then she catches his hand in hers to stop his actions. Instead, he let his hand wander to her back, tracing light patterns with his finger and making her shiver. They lay together in silence for a few minutes before Darcy speaks again.
"You can stay with me, if you want."
His tone sounds as if he's lost in thought. She tilts her head back again, furrowing her brow at him.
"What?" she asks, totally lost.
"I know you don't want to stay in your apartment without Jane, and that you've been looking for somewhere else to stay without success," he explains. "You can stay with me, if you want."
"Are you asking me to move in with you after we slept together once?" she can't help but demand with amused incredulity. "You really are bad with women."
"You always say that as if you expect anyone to argue," he points out, unfazed. "There are two rooms; you can have your own space. A very intelligent woman told me it's too big for just one person, anyway."
Despite how insane the offer is, Lizzy smiles at his words. To be honest, although she knows it's a bad idea, it's also tempting. If these were her younger, more impulsive days she might have agreed on the spot. She also desperately wants to tease him for assuming she's looking for a roommate because she doesn't want to be alone rather than the real reason of it being a necessity; she can't afford her and Jane's apartment alone. Unfortunately, the few applicants she's had for a roommate hadn't been good fits. Things were getting down to the wire, and Lizzy was either going to have to sign the new lease on faith that she would find someone to split the cost soon, or leave the area.
On the other hand, the Lampton Inn is about three blocks from her work. It wouldn't even really be like she was sharing a hotel room with Darcy, it was too much space for just one person, more the size of a midsized apartment and meant to be lived in long term.
"You're thinking about it," he points out with excitement and clear triumph.
"No - I mean yes, but just because it's a crazy idea. We would be asking for trouble."
"Who cares?" Darcy wants to know. "I've never known you to shy away from crazy."
"Nice," she laughs, pulling his shoulder and turning them so he's hovering over her. "Call me another name before you try and kiss me again, see how well that works out for you."
He thinks it over for a minute, but then his eyes soften. He pushes her forever unruly curls back again and then starts to lightly trace her features.
"Beautiful," he murmurs before swooping down and pressing his lips against hers.
"A bit cliché," she tells him breathlessly a few minutes later, though she can't quite stifle a pleased smile.
"I'm not much of a romantic, I'm afraid." He replies nonchalantly. "I just say the first thing that comes to mind when I look at you."
"Crazy?" she raises an eyebrow with a smile.
"Crazy beautiful," he corrects, then presses his luck and kisses her again.
The next time she wakes up, Darcy is slipping away in the early morning light.
"Two hours," he whispers, kissing her hand when she reaches out for him sleepily to pull him back. "It will only take me two hours."
"K," she frowns, twisting her wrist to caress his face before tucking her hand back under her chin and closing her eyes again. "Hurry back, Mr. Darcy."
"Yes, Miss Bennet." He rumbles in her ear, closer than she expects. He had just meant to kiss her cheek, but when she feels how close he is, she turns and wraps her arms around his neck. He laughs, shifting his balance so he doesn't fall on her.
"You should have left when you had the chance," she says into his neck, then bites him playfully.
"Lizzy," he groans, shifting his hands again so he can hold his balance with one and run the other along her side. "That's not fair."
"Alright," she sighs with disappointment and a bit of guilt. She loosens her grip and cups his face again. "Go on then."
"I would much rather stay here with you," he still hovers over her despite her lax grip. She grins and pulls him in for a fast kiss.
"I know," she assures him. "I understand."
"I can be done in two hours. Will you still be here?" He pleads with his eyes if not his tone.
"I might be," she teases. "Hurry back and find out."
"Take a look around while I'm gone. Make yourself at home." He smirks at her and she rolls her eyes, a smile nonetheless tugging at her lips.
"Incorrigible. Go." She pushes him away, tucking herself back down into the bed.
But Lizzy can't get back to sleep after Darcy leaves. Reluctantly, she does actually take a cursory look around, purely for curiosity's sake. But then she's completely diverted by the luxurious bathroom. She takes a long, hot shower and does her best to comb out her curls with no products or tools to help. She's just sitting down on the couch in an oversized, fluffy robe wondering what to do about a change of clothing when Darcy comes through the door.
Their eyes met and she squirms slightly at the instantly heated look on his face. He steps in and drops his phone and keys on the counter without looking away from her. She stands to meet him but when he stalks towards her, she ducks her head and tightens the straps of her robe, feeling unusually shy. She can't help but keep darting her eyes back to his intense, devouring gaze though.
"Lizzy," he stops close to her, but still hasn't touched her. His voice is low and husky, and it sends a thrill down her spine and makes her skin feel oversensitive. His fingers reach slowly out to take hold of the cloth belt that she was just fiddling with. "Can I take this off?"
She flushes, heart beating, but nods. Instead of following through with his request, though, he tilts her chin up and kisses her. After a few slow, heated kisses, Lizzy feels a tug and then the robe is open at the front. She barely has time to register this when he steps back from her and pushes the robe the rest of the way off, so that it's pooled at her feet.
She's standing in front of him stark naked. She can't help how her skin flushes or certain parts of her tighten under the dark gaze Will Darcy gives as he takes in all of her. But she can only stay silent and still for so long before she squirms again and lets out a petulant, "Will."
"I just want to make sure this moment is well and truly burned into my memory," he rumbles, his eyes almost black as they hungrily roamed up and down her body, still not touching her.
"This is so one-sided," she pouts further, feeling her face and body flush even more at his words and the look in his eye.
"Yes," He agrees readily. "I suppose it is."
She finally huffs and moves to cover herself, but he catches her arms and pulls them back again. Then, his hands start following the path his eyes were just taking, and he steps in to kiss her while they do. He spends time exploring her, mapping out every inch of her skin. He doesn't necessarily seem to be bent on anything more than touching every inch of her and categorizing her responses, but she's instantly panting with excitement and pleasure, gripping his biceps and shoulders tightly.
No one has ever touched her like this before; she feels worshipped by him.
"Will," she whimpers, pulling back from his lips. "Please."
He guides her down to the couch, but then kneels in front of her. He takes her ankle in his hand and begins running his lips, tongue and teeth over the skin from her ankle up, seemingly about to follow the path up her body that first his eyes and then his hands had just followed. It's too much for Lizzy, and she can no longer be docile. She leans forward and pushes him back so that he teeters on his heels momentarily before dropping down to sit on the floor.
Wasting no time, she slips into his lap and kisses him fiercely. She had never been more turned on in her life. Without breaking her lips away from his, she reached between them and undoes his belt, her hands a bit frantic as they push, pull, and tug until he can slip them far enough down to where they no longer hinder her.
"Lizzy," he growls. "I wanted to—"
"I can't," She pants against his lips. "Please, Will, now, I need you now."
"Fuck," Darcy grounds out through clenched teeth as he grabs her hips roughly.
Her own arms are now locked around his neck; after his strained curse, she instinctively grabs a fistful of his hair and tugs, so his mouth and neck are exposed to her lips. She kisses everything she can, finding his own sensitive spots in a much less methodical way as she rocks her hips impatiently into his.
Neither one lasts much longer after that. Soon, his back is against the couch, his head tilted up towards the ceiling as he gasps for breath. She can't move from her spot on his lap yet, and she rests her head in the crook of his neck. After some time had passed, Will sees her wince as she runs her hands lightly over his shoulders.
"Sorry," she whispers guiltily.
He glances down and notices for the first time that there are angry red indents of her nails in his skin, with scratches in some places. He chuckles, pulling her hands away.
"You never have to apologize for what you do in the heat of the moment, Lizzy," he tells her hotly, kissing her swollen lips.
"That's a dangerous precedent to set," she teases, but that look is gone from her eyes, and she's relaxed once more. "Welcome back, by the way. I thought you were gonna be another hour?"
"I left a gorgeous, naked woman in my bed," he runs his hands lightly up and down her back, causing her to shiver. "I had plenty of incentive to go quickly."
Lizzy loves how little their relationship has to change. They still argue constantly, although Will loves to use the word banter. They still tease and challenge each other, only now whenever she starts to get the better of him, he distracts her with kisses. Now, when he's in one of his dark moods, she knows how to entice him back into good spirits.
Now, they're dancing together alone in Jane's empty reception hall because they just finished the last of the cleanup tasks, and they were both too focused on making sure the wedding went smoothly to enjoy more than one dance together.
"I have a surprise for you," he murmurs against her hair.
It's a common statement coming from him. He loves to buy her little gifts and will come home with something a least once a month for her. It was one of the many things they fought – or, as Darcy always corrected her, spoke to each other with the enthusiastic passion that touched every aspect of their relationship.
And, really, what could she say to that?
Lizzy is exhausted and hopes the surprise is that he will physically carry her up to their room in a minute. So, for as much as she usually tries to dissuade him from showering her with gifts, in this moment she can only sigh and pull him closer.
"What surprise?"
He loves that her tone is soft and questioning rather than resigned, because he can't stop wanting to give her the world and he doesn't think she quiet understands yet how little that is ever going to change.
"You've been working so hard lately, that I thought you could use a break, too. I've already cleared it with your boss, so for the next two weeks I'm taking you on vacation."
Her heart is full at how much he wants to take care of her, of how much he uses that CEO boss control freak energy he has to rearrange her life so conveniently. She stops their swaying to pull him into a full-on hug.
"Really?" she asks, kissing his jaw. "Just you and me? You're not going to work either?"
Her reaction has him swallowing his emotions down enough to tell her how he's been slowly shifting more and more responsibilities over to Gianna, now that she's settled into her role, and how, as of midnight this morning, the other Darcy has officially become the one on call.
"I knew you didn't get any calls today," she tsks as if annoyed she didn't put it together sooner. "I thought you just turned it off for the important parts, and took the others where you couldn't be seen."
"Sounds like you're slipping, baby," he can't help but tease. Predictably, she pulls back to frown at him. "You had a lot going on today, though," he amends immediately, as pleasantly as he can.
"I did," she agrees, sounding a bit petulant.
"Which brings me back to my point; you deserve a break."
"I guess I do," she finally relaxes back into a smile before her brows furrow and she thinks to ask, "where are we going, anyway?"
His own heart feels full to bursting as he can't help but notice the difference in Lizzy's reaction from women he's dated in the past. Not necessarily how her soft acceptance is worlds away from their enthusiastic exuberance, but where it mattered. Where others would be immediately concerned about where he was taking them and the quality of the place they would be staying at, Lizzy's first concern was that he get a chance to relax right there with her, that they would truly be alone together. It almost causes the small box in his tuxedo jacket to make an earlier appearance, but he manages to quell that impulse; he leans down to kiss her thoroughly instead.
When he finally gets around to answering her question, though, and tells her about the cabin up in the mountains he's taking her to, with trails and waterfalls and hot springs to hike to in the day and full of luxury and amenities to come home at night, she pulls him right back into kissing her.
"Will," she holds him close, grinning excitedly. "That sounds amazing. No interruptions, just you and me and nature? Are you sure you're going to be able to get me back home at the end of it?"
His chest feels too full again and he wonders if he'll ever get used to how much she wants him around, how happy she is just to be with him, how she never seems to get sick of his presence, despite them moving in together a month after his offer (Officially, because she likes have that month on record, although they both know they haven't spent a night apart since their first one together).
Again, it makes him consider this life he wants to make with her and how he can't wait to get it started. Now that Jane is squared away, Will wonders how open she will be to planning their own wedding.
Another frequent occurrence that happens in their relationship is how she seems to read his mind at times.
"I'm not doing this again, by the way," she sighs against his neck and starts to sway with him once more. "When we get married, we can have a party afterward and that's it. No dresses, no color themes, no choice of chicken or beef, and absolutely no figuring out who can safely sit with whom."
Darcy's heart hammers in his chest. He has never been an impulsive man, and he has very carefully planned what he thinks will be a perfect proposal for her at the bottom of a waterfall near the cabin they will be staying at, but all that goes flying out the window with the words when we get married.
"When we get married…" he starts, but then she realizes what she just said and pops her head off his shoulder. Her face is already red, and her eyes are slightly wide and panicked.
"I didn't mean… I meant when I… um," she tries to backtrack, but he puts his hand up to cup her cheek and run his thumb against her jaw and she quiets.
"When we get married," he nuzzles his nose against her cheek and loves her sharp inhale, "I would not be averse to skipping all that work."
She relaxes against him once more. It sends a powerful surge of possessiveness through him, that he can calm her so easily, that all it takes is a few words from him to drain the tension from her.
"I love you so much, Darcy," she whispers against his cheek. "I would endure all that work, if you want a real wedding."
"I want you," he answers easily. "I would endure all that work if you want a real wedding, though."
"I want you," she echoes.
Her tone is so sure and so content that he has to swallow back his emotions once more. She always accuses him of being a control freak, but she has no idea how little control he has when it comes to her. He reaches his hand into his pocket and messes with the box until he pulls out the emerald band inside.
"Forever?" he asks, then moves to slip the ring on her finger.
She gasps, freezing. For one heart-stopping moment, she only stares at the ring with wide, unblinking eyes. Then, she shifts them to meet his and a tear slips out.
"And ever," she surges up to kiss him. "And ever, and ever and…"
She tries to keep going between kisses, but she can't pull back long enough anymore.
"I had a whole thing planned," he tells her later. He's a little mad at himself for jumping the gun, but Lizzy is going to be his wife soon and he hasn't really gotten past that mind-blowing fact just yet to really care. "It was over the top romantic."
"You can still do it," she assures him with a smile. "It'll still be a good memory."
"Was this a good memory?"
He's worried now, so she doesn't tease him. She wraps both arms around his neck and stands on her toes to kiss him.
"The best," she grins, and distractedly shifts her hand to look at the ring. "You really want to marry me?"
"I really want to marry you," he groans, kissing her.
He thinks it's past time they were alone in their room. He starts shuffling them out of the reception hall, but neither one really detaches enough to make walking easy.
"I'm not going to vow to obey you," she challenges, one eyebrow raised high. He can't help but laugh at the idea that she would.
"Will you vow to have and to hold me?"
They reach the elevator, and as soon as their floor is pressed, Lizzy is between him and the back wall of it. His thigh is pressing purposefully between hers, but she keeps her head enough to answer.
"That part's easy," she pulls him down to kiss her.
"For better? For worse?" he moves to suck the sensitive skin behind her ear.
"Yes, and yes," she agrees, slipping her hands under his jacket and holding him to her. "Even in your absolute blackest, foulest moods, I don't want to be away from you. Even when I hate the world and everything in it, I still want you with me."
"Lizzy," he feels like he's blinking back tears, and he loses his footing for a moment. But, of course, she's there, pulling him out of the elevator with her and peppering him with kisses and continuing his questionnaire.
"Poorer for sure, too. I'm not sure you can get much richer," she teases him and giggles when he nips at her neck in retaliation. "But yes."
They finally make it to their room, and though she loves to distract him in the best possible ways in these moments when he's trying to get her alone, he does manage to open and close their door with minimal attempts.
"In sickness and in health?"
"That part's less easy, but only because you're so moody when you're sick," he nips her neck again, putting his hands on her hips to guide her with determination backwards towards the bed.
"I mean yes, of course, yes," she scratches her nails up his sides and grins when he shivers in response.
"To love and to cherish?"
"That's the easiest part," she pulls back to cup his cheeks with both hands, "that's my favorite part."
"Mine, too," he leans forward to kiss her, then reaches behind her to unzip her dress. "I can live without the obedience."
"Lucky for me," she attempts a disgruntled frown, but it can't last; she's too unbelievably happy right now. Her dress slips beautifully down her body and the white lacy matching set she has on underneath steals the air from his lungs.
"Lucky for me," his voice is raw with emotion, and her smug grin softens.
"I love you so much, Elizabeth," his soft touch is reverent, and she shivers from the energy she feels behind it.
"I love you, too," she slips off his jacket, but grabs ahold of his tie, giving it a little tug. "Now come show me how much."
The control freak does what he's told without hesitation.