Room 516 [Sunday morning]
Once Sookie had gotten Bobby out of the labyrinth, and it had collapsed behind them, there had been no real discussion of what to do. They'd gone back to her room, quite attached to one another the whole way, and stayed that way throughout the night. Sookie, for her part, was firmly in the state of mind she'd grown used to after events like this -- if she let him go, he might disappear again. But after the joint ordeals of working through a maze and being an adoptive prince for several days, there had been only the briefest passage of time between the time they crawled into bed and the time they fell asleep.
Sunday morning, however, found them substantially more rested, but still unlikely to get out of bed -- albeit, for a slightly different reason. Call it what you want, but nearly being killed in the name of saving one another, and the reunion resultant of that effort, tended to be kind of an aphrodisiac once it'd settled in.
And so, in the early, chilled hours of Sunday morning, Sookie and Bobby fumbled their way to taking that final step. There wasn't a whole lot of discussion about it -- just a whispered, "I'm ready," from Sookie, and a subsequent frantic search through her nightstand for the appropriate necessities. And it hadn't been perfect. There weren't choirs, or fireworks, or explosions -- romance novels were, as it turned out, completely full of shit.
But it had been worth it, Sookie thought, to wait. Because somewhere between losing her pants and losing her coherency, Bobby's shields had pretty much evaporated, and with that much skin-on-skin contact, the emotional bond created by her telepathy had strengthened beyond anything they'd experienced up to this point. That bond was still quietly pulsing in the back of her mind as they stayed, curled up together, under the covers shortly after. Sookie was still trying to catch her breath, as she rest her head against his chest, or think of something to say. Though, really, she was still picking up his thoughts, which consisted pretty much of, "lfaflkdnklfdhldhfoiahgfg." So maybe she didn't need to say anything. But she did anyway, once she formed a thought.
"What was that about not being wanted, again?"
[for the fellow devirginizer, who was lovingly and smuttily modded with permission! Um. Vaaaguely NWS?]
Sunday morning, however, found them substantially more rested, but still unlikely to get out of bed -- albeit, for a slightly different reason. Call it what you want, but nearly being killed in the name of saving one another, and the reunion resultant of that effort, tended to be kind of an aphrodisiac once it'd settled in.
And so, in the early, chilled hours of Sunday morning, Sookie and Bobby fumbled their way to taking that final step. There wasn't a whole lot of discussion about it -- just a whispered, "I'm ready," from Sookie, and a subsequent frantic search through her nightstand for the appropriate necessities. And it hadn't been perfect. There weren't choirs, or fireworks, or explosions -- romance novels were, as it turned out, completely full of shit.
But it had been worth it, Sookie thought, to wait. Because somewhere between losing her pants and losing her coherency, Bobby's shields had pretty much evaporated, and with that much skin-on-skin contact, the emotional bond created by her telepathy had strengthened beyond anything they'd experienced up to this point. That bond was still quietly pulsing in the back of her mind as they stayed, curled up together, under the covers shortly after. Sookie was still trying to catch her breath, as she rest her head against his chest, or think of something to say. Though, really, she was still picking up his thoughts, which consisted pretty much of, "lfaflkdnklfdhldhfoiahgfg." So maybe she didn't need to say anything. But she did anyway, once she formed a thought.
"What was that about not being wanted, again?"
[for the fellow devirginizer, who was lovingly and smuttily modded with permission! Um. Vaaaguely NWS?]