Fic: I Feel A Weakness Coming On; Robert/Kristen
I Feel A Weakness Coming On
RPF. Robert Pattinson/Kristen Stewart. NC-17. 7,815 words.
Summary: A sequel/companion to Hickeys. Comic Con continues and snapshots of moments that lead Kristen and Robert to that closet.
Why yes, this is a 7000+ word sequel to a 684 word fic. lol.
Note: This is the longest fic I've written so far and I have slaved over it these past couple of weeks. I dedicate this to everyone who wanted a sequel to Hickeys. This probably isn't exactly what you had in mind but I tried, I really did.
Most of all I dedicate this to the following people:
Katie (h0ttie_x0) because I promised a long time ago that I would dedicate this to you. And also, happy belated birthday! I tried to get it done in time, I really did. Consider it belated birthday fic. :)
Charlie (lemmy_01). I hope you enjoy the little section I wrote just for you, in honor of the challenge you gave me. :D
Sam (hiddenxharmony) for putting up with all my whining about this fic. lol. :D
The title is from the song The Walk by Imogen Heap.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth
Robert Frost
Her hands were shaking. Kristen took long, deep breaths trying to get her heart rate back to normal. She pulled at her shirt, attempting to smooth out the wrinkles and then touched up the little make-up that she wore. Finally she felt like she might be ready to go out and face the world.
Then she ran her tongue over her lips and even through the new coat of lip gloss, she could still taste him. His taste, his smell was everywhere on her, seared onto her skin. And she was supposed to face over six thousand people like this.
Her hands were shaking again and Kristen dropped her bag onto the counter and rifled through it, searching for her cigarettes. This is what she’d been reduced to, smoking in the women’s restroom at Comic Con. Fucking great.
Scew Robert Pattinson.
Unfortunately, that was exactly what she wanted to do. Over and over again.
She leaned back against the wall and took a deep drag of her cig, exhaling slowly as she closed her eyes and relived the feeling of his lips against hers, his talented fingers….
-
There was a natural chemistry between them. That’s what Catherine had said, bright eyed and bouncing in excitement as soon as the audition was over.
He had walked in looking rumpled, scruffy, and with a glazed look in his eyes that she suspected was chemically induced. She wondered briefly if he was an actor or someone who wandered in from the streets. She glanced at his file and saw that he was in Harry Potter. She squinted at him, trying to see if she could recognize him. She couldn’t even remember which of those Potter movies she had seen. He catches her staring and she flushes.
Somehow, the audition ended up taking place on Catherine’s bed. He smelled nicer than Kristen thought he would. Really nice.
And then he touched her, feather light. Her heart thudded. His fingers trailed down her arm and it was like a slow burning, the heat crawling through her body, warming her bit by bit.
She looked into his eyes and there was surprising intensity there. Forget the scruff, the messy hair and the smoke she could smell on his breath. In this moment, he was Edward Cullen.
This was more like it. She hadn’t realized until this moment that she was afraid that she’d be stuck acting opposite someone that didn’t challenge her. Someone who wouldn’t make working on teen fluff like this even semi-bearable.
Quickly, she locked ‘Kristen’ away in her quiet corner. New energy rushed through her as she let ‘Bella’ seep into her bones, taking conscious control. There was no more room in her mind for her own thoughts. She was ruled by foreign emotions that quickly became her own. This was acting and Kristen loved it. She breathed it.
And then, right on cue, he kissed her. She was jerked back into her body and she was suddenly so very aware. Aware of his fingers right above her hip, her shoulder brushing against his arm. His lips were so soft and he tasted like cigarettes, mints, and maybe beer. Her body slumped into his and his lips were suddenly gone. She heard a loud thump and when she opened her eyes, Robert was on the floor.
Catherine started laughing and then Rob was laughing and she was laughing. And just like that, Kristen knew that he had gotten the part.
She also knew that she was in deep shit.
-
She walked by a room and heard his voice, she would know that voice and accent anywhere. She peeked in the open doorway and saw him talking to the MTV guy, giving an interview. She smiled as she watched him laugh, his eyes crinkling up in an adorable way.
“Kristen!”
She turned around to see Rachelle waving at her from the other end of the hall and made her way over to her.
“They were about to send out a search party for you,” she said.
“I just walked off the nerves a little.”
Rachelle smiled sympathetically. “Hey, I think you have something here,” she leaned in closer to examine her collarbone.
Kristen looked down but she didn’t need to see it to know what it was. Fuck Robert. Did he have to mark her too? So much for discretion.
“It’s a rash, I think.” She pulled up the collar of her shirt and leaned away from Rachelle’s prying fingers. “I break out sometimes when I’m really nervous.”
“Okay,” she said agreeably but Kristen could see a twinkle in her eyes and knew that she didn’t completely buy her excuse.
Rachelle held up her camera. “Let’s take a picture!”
“I don’t-”
“I’ll take it for you guys.” That familiar voice said behind her. She turned around to see Robert grinning crookedly at her.
“Great!” Rachelle eagerly handed him her camera. Her eyes widened slightly as she took in Rob’s rumpled shirt and the much larger hickey on his neck. To Kristen’s great relief, she didn’t say anything at all and threw an arm around her shoulder. She gratefully wrapped an arm around her waist.
Rob held up the camera. “Say you love me,” he laughed.
“We love you!” Rachelle practically shouted.
Kristen stuck her tongue out at him. A click then a flash. She blinks but then figures she should get used to it, the flashes later on will be much worse.
In one swift motion, Rachelle pushed Kristen over to Robert and grabbed her camera back. “Let me take one of you guys.”
She’s about to protest vehemently but Rob wraps his arms around her middle and rests his chin on her shoulder. Her mind is screaming No, no, this isn’t right. Too obvious! but her body - traitorous thing - responds to him. She leans back into him and even smiles slightly. And there’s absolutely no way that Rachelle doesn’t know now.
A click and a flash.
“Thanks guys. We should go in, everyone’s waiting,” she winks at Kristen as she walks past them and into the crowded, noisy room.
-
She couldn’t say no to him, even then. He’d look at her with those eyes - his eyes - and she could never really tell if they were gray, blue or green but when he looked at her so pleadingly, so sincerely, it didn’t matter. She was a goner.
He’d asked, no insisted, that she come watch him play at some small, out of the way bar - or pub as he called it - in Portland. Jackson had found the place and assured Rob that even the mom stalkers wouldn’t be able to find it.
She bristled when she saw that Katie was there but managed to find out from Nikki that Rob hadn’t invited her and that she tagged along with Paul. After that Kristen felt better enough to relax at a table, front and center, and down a drink or two or more. Jackson and Ashley were flirting on her right and Nikki was chatting with Paul and Katie on her left but when he took the stage, she couldn’t see or hear anything else.
Her heart stuttered as he picked out the first chords on his guitar then his voice washed over her, different than what she expected but still good. He kept his eyes on her throughout the entire song and Kristen was glad she was sitting down. Her legs would not have supported her right then.
That was the first night that she knew, without a doubt, that her control was slipping away from her.
-
Her ears were ringing from the screams and her hands were shaking again, though for a completely different reason now. She blinked at the large crowd, not quite believing the turn-out. The only comfort she had was that Rob was sitting beside her and he was just as nervous, maybe even more, than she was.
She glanced at him and then did a double take. “Your shirt is inside out!” She whispered.
He glances down. “It is?”
“Weren’t you ever taught how to dress yourself?”
“Bit hard to do in the dark.”
She scowled at him.
“Relax, love. The shirt is black, no one will notice,” he said, leaning in closer to her than he probably should.
“I got your present,” he grinned and she couldn’t tell if he was trying to placate her or distract her.
Taylor was answering a question, she tried to pay attention to what he was saying and at the same time ignore the nausea that the crowd in front of her was causing.
“Not now,” she muttered.
“Pour me a drink, will you, love?”
She did so and couldn’t help but grin when he downed it like a man who had walked through the Sahara.
“I’m going to throw up,” she said.
“Look at me,” he commanded. She reluctantly raised her eyes to his. “Right now, I’m thinking of all the things I’m going to do to you tonight.”
Her breath hitches and she fixes her gaze to her left - Cam’s profile, Rachelle’s hair - even though Catherine is the one who’s speaking now. Her pulse is racing for an entirely different reason than nerves now as her own brain fills with images of all the things she’d like him to do her.
Two can play at this game.
“I thought it was my turn to do things to you. And believe me, I have plans,” she licks her lips slowly, deliberately.
He gets asked a question and he stumbles through an answer, laughing that big laugh of his and running his hand repeatedly through his hair. Satisfaction warms her inside.
-
“I’m moving to L.A.”
He said it out of nowhere. They were eating ice cream (Rocky Road, her choice) out of a carton and watching an episode of Doctor Who (his choice) when they were supposed to be rehearsing and he said it like it was a decision he just made, on the spur of the moment. Knowing him, maybe it was.
She shrugged, doing her best to show nonchalance at this announcement. “Figured you would.”
“So, Ms. L.A. native, will you help me apartment hunt?” He grinned.
“Why don’t you just get a trailer? It suits your style,” she eyed his plaid shirt and worn jeans. “Or lack of it.”
He was quiet for a moment and he actually looked like he was contemplating it. “That’s not a bad idea.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not being serious.”
“I am.”
“Piece of advice? A trailer is not an attractive bachelor pad. I’m sure your agent will hook you up with a place in no time.”
“Bachelor pad,” he said thoughtfully, licking his spoon. Her eyes gravitated to his tongue. She tried not to hyperventilate. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Thought of getting a ridiculously expensive apartment to show off to all the girls you’ll be taking home with you,” she scoffed. “Sure. Why else move to L.A.?”
“For work, mostly,” he mumbled, looking down. “And it’s not like that, not really. I’m usually shit about approaching girls.”
“Please. You’re just pulling your modest crap again.”
“It’s true!”
“Okay, you’re not exactly a smooth talker,” she said. “But you have a certain charm…”
He grinned at her, that full out boyish grin she loved. “You think so?”
She blushed. “Sometimes. When you’re not being a pain in the ass.”
He laughed.
“You won’t have problems on the girls front. You’re Edward Cullen, you can just dazzle them.” She laughed at the horrified face he made. “And you have the accent. That will be more helpful to you here than it probably is in England.”
“Girls do like the accent here,” he agreed. “But that’s not what I’m looking for.”
“What are you looking for?”
“I don’t know. Just something different, I guess,” he said thoughtfully then he looked at her with that look, the intense one he sometimes got.
She shoveled ice cream into her mouth in the vain hope that it would quell the heat growing inside her stomach.
Maybe it had been on her mind that at the end of filming, he’d go back to England and she’d maybe miss him a little bit. Maybe.
And so really, she couldn’t help but be a little thrilled at this recent development. And she knew there were probably a million reasons why it made sense for him to move to L.A. right now, at this point in his career, and none of those could possibly include her. But maybe a very tiny, irrational part of her hoped. Especially when he looked at her like that.
Maybe.
-
The lights go down and they’re showing a scene from the movie.
She cringes, not really sure if she wants to see this. Beside her Cam stands and leans over the table to get a better view. Robert places a hand on her thigh and even in the semi-darkness she can see that look in his eyes.
She puts her hand over his and she’s vaguely aware of the screaming but the sound is muted, like she’s been submerged underwater. His hand strokes her thigh, going higher and higher…
It’s only minutes later that the lights come back on but it feels like hours. He takes his hand away, and she’s silently gasping for breath, feeling dizzy and out of sorts.
He does that to her. She doesn’t want to like it.
-
It was the end of filming. But not really the end, though. She still had more scenes to shoot in L.A. It was, however, time to say goodbye to Oregon.
In the extremely laid back environment of the wrap party, she could see the utter relief in the crew’s eyes. The people who had to deal with the shitty, unpredictable weather and not just stand around underneath a big umbrella waiting for the rain, hail, sun or whatever to pass. L.A. weather was going to be much kinder to the film equipment and the scheduling.
Los Angeles. She was going home. Why did the thought fill her with dread instead of the usual joy and relief that’s always been present for her at the end of filming? The homesickness that wrapped itself around her body like a cord in the past had been strangely absent in the past few weeks.
She told herself that it’s because she’s made friends here, fell into a routine, and Portland isn’t as far from home as Canada and Pennsylvania and all the other places she’s been. But she had to try in vain to keep her eyes off the one person that she knew made all the difference.
The next day Kristen would be going home to her family, friends and boyfriend. She should be happy about it. A part of her was happy about it. It was time to pop the bubble she’d been living in for the past three months. She had a real life to get back to and so did he.
But as she watched him amble around the large room, talking to practically everyone, she couldn’t help but be resentful of how much easier it seemed to be for him to climb out of the bubble. She thought they were sharing it, so why could he escape while she remained trapped inside?
She drained her glass of wine and slipped out of the room, walking through the lobby of the hotel until she found a quiet, narrow hallway. She leaned against the wall and slumped down to the ground.
She didn’t keep track of time but it couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes when Robert finds her. Of course he does. He sits down next to her and she tries to ignore the pinpricks of electricity radiating from all the places their bodies touch, their shoulders, hips, knees.
“I’ll miss this,” he said.
“The crappy weather?”
“You,” he corrected.
“We’re not Bella and Edward,” she sighed.
He nudged her. “I think we are, for just a few more weeks.”
Just a few more weeks.
Kristen looked at him. His face was very close to hers. His breath was warm on her face. Under this light his eyes looked very green.
She didn’t know who moved first. All she was aware of next was his lips on hers, his hair so soft underneath her fingers, her chest pressed against his. She opened her mouth to him and his tongue moved against hers. She didn’t know if she was lost or if she was found. But in that moment they were one and the bubble encased them both.
-
More flashes, just as she dreaded. People yell, telling her to smile and look this way and that. She thinks that this may be her least favorite part about this job, even more than awkward interviews where she gets asked either repetitive questions or intrusive personal ones. This feeling of being on display is the worst.
But then he’s there beside her, the warmth radiating from his body pressing into her side and she can breathe easier and smile bigger. She clasps her hands behind her back to stop them from latching onto him the way they desperately want to. She leans her body a bit, tilts her head a little, trying to get close without being too obvious and she’s grateful that Taylor is suddenly there on her other side being the usual bundle of energy that he is.
Robert’s fingers graze her lower back, just a tiny bit, just for a second, touching the small bit of flesh exposed between her shirt and pants. Electricity shoots up her spine and the memory of what they were doing in the closet presses to forefront of her mind. That naturally leads to thoughts of what they will be doing later on.
This was the longest day of her life.
-
“That’s a wrap!” Catherine yelled and the crew broke into cheers.
Kristen was swept into a sea of hugs and handshakes but her body sagged tiredly and her smile was forced. She just wasn’t able to muster the joy that everyone felt now that filming was officially over.
Robert was at the other side of the truck, happily shaking hands with the crew. She hated how aware she was of him at all times. She hated the pain in her chest as she realized that it really was time to pop the bubble now. No more pretending.
She rubbed her eyes and tried to milk her exhaustion. It worked. Catherine hugged her tightly and pushed her in the direction of her trailer, telling her to finally get some rest. Kristen did go to her trailer but sat on the steps instead of going inside.
Only a couple of yards away, Michael was waiting for her. It was almost five in the morning and he was still there. He had stood around waiting for hours and it was sweet and thoughtful and yet…She wished that he wasn’t there. She wished…She couldn’t even think it, she felt so guilty.
She closed her eyes and leaned back against the door. She could feel his approach, not hear it. She really hated this and she had no logical explanation for it, it was like her body always reacted to him long before her mind could catch up. She hated that she was huddled under her coat but felt instantly warmer when he sat down beside her, even though he sat far enough away that he wasn’t touching her.
They hadn’t talked about the kiss. The first night they all got back to L.A., Michael had crashed their cast dinner and it was like there was an unspoken agreement between her and Robert to never bring up the kiss. It was almost as if speaking of the kiss would ruin the magic of it.
A minute passed by. Two, three…Kristen didn’t have a watch but she was pretty sure that five minutes had gone by and he still hadn’t spoken. It had to be some kind of record. She didn’t know that Robert was even capable of sitting still and staying silent for so long. He was hunched over slightly, his forearms resting on his thighs, his eyes were fixed on some invisible point in the distance. She stared at his profile, trying to memorize the curve of his nose, the shape of his lips…her fingers itched to trace his jaw line.
Finally he broke the silence. “Michael is waiting for you.”
Kristen blinked. She wasn’t expecting that. And then she realized. This was it, he was saying goodbye. She wasn’t prepared for the ache in her chest, it gripped her, knocked her breathless.
He stood up and she did too. She watched his back as he walked away.
“Wait!” She called out.
He turned. “For what?”
She bit her lip, scrambling in her mind for an answer. He walked back over to her.
“Wait for what, Kristen?” He asked softly.
She wrapped her arms around herself, tilting her head up to look into his eyes. She didn’t know how to answer. He had to leave, she wanted him to stay.
“Hey, are you done?”
She looked up and Michael was standing a few feet away. He looked at her then at Robert and back at her again, his eyes uncertain. She backed away from Robert instinctively.
He looked at Michael briefly but Robert’s eyes were locked on hers as he said, “Yeah, we’re done.”
Kristen’s stomach dropped and pain twisted in her chest as she watched him turn and walk away again. She couldn’t call out to him, he wouldn’t stop even if she did.
Michael wrapped an arm around her and she let her exhausted body sag into his. He was saying something about getting decent coffee and breakfast with Nikki.
“No, I just want to go home,” she sighed.
-
Kristen said her thank yous to the Borders people and breathed deeply as she prepared herself to walk back into the throng of reporters and photographers. Would this day never end?
A large hand grabbed hers and she was being dragged away to the side of the building. Kristen glanced behind her to make sure no one was watching them. As soon as they rounded the corner, Robert pressed her up against the wall and kissed her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, opening her mouth beneath his, allowing him access which he took full advantage of.
But soon, much too soon, he pulled away. He leaned his forehead against hers, his heavy breathing matching hers.
“Really glad you did it?” He grinned.
She rolled her eyes. “Not because of you.”
He chuckled and kissed her again, just a small peck.
“You’re so full of yourself.”
“I really want to get out of here,” he murmured.
“We could make a break for it,” she suggested.
“We’ll get chased after with torches. Or worse, flashing cameras.”
She grimaced and then reluctantly pushed him away from her. “Fix your shirt.”
He smirked and walked away, back to the group of waiting press.
“Rob!” She called after him as loud as she dared, tucking her body into the side of building to not be seen. He kept walking and Kristen groaned in frustration.
-
“With an amazing romance on the screen, is there anything off screen at all between you two?”
“Yeah. I mean, I asked her to marry me four times. But it didn’t go anywhere. It just fizzled out, fizzled out.”
I asked her to marry me four times. He was joking around, of course. Just like he always does. It meant nothing. And yet the whole thing kept replaying in Kristen’s mind, on constant loop.
She hated questions like those, prying, intrusive, personal questions. She was in this business to act, not to flaunt her private life and have photographers following her every move.
He handled it all much better than she did. She turned into a nervous train wreck who has trouble stringing words together, while he stutters and rambles adorably, says the first thing that pops into his head which is usually sarcastic and humorous. Female fans all around the world swoon.
Michael asked her for the fifth time in less than an hour if she was ready to leave. She wanted to snap at him to just leave if he wanted to but remembers that he only came because she begged him to. So that she wouldn’t have to be alone with Robert. It seemed like a good idea at the time but she wanted to find a very deep hole in the ground to crawl into whenever the two of them were within a few feet of each other.
Kristen couldn’t blame Michael for being bored and irritated. God knows she wouldn’t attend this thing if she didn’t have to. The pre-show and the live show were bad enough, attending the after party definitely wasn’t part of the plan.
She saw it even from across the room. A flash of unruly reddish-brown. She shrugged out from beneath Michael’s arm and handed him her drink.
“Meet me at the car in ten minutes,” she called over her shoulder.
He was making his way to the door and like a moth to a flame she followed. Funny how after all the persuading she did to get Michael to come with her, she still had to go out of her way to get him alone. Kristen never was a fan of irony so she wished she could explain to herself just what in the hell she was doing.
She followed him through the crowd of scantily clad, gyrating bodies, past photographers, out into the hallway of people standing around chatting idly. He pushed through an emergency exit and she rushed to catch the heavy door before it closed.
They’re in an empty alley and he’s lighting up a cigarette, his back to her.
She cleared her throat. He jumped and spun around, the cigarette falling out of his mouth. “Christ! I thought you were some fan that followed me.”
“You do have a lot of stalkers,” she said wryly.
He looked at his wasted cig, the corners of his mouth tugging down adorably. He stomped on it and lit up a new one.
“What do you want?” He muttered.
“We’re leaving. If you want a ride…”
He chuckled. “Because the ride on the way here was so fun. I’ll manage on my own, thanks.”
She watched his lips as he took a deep drag of the cig, his mouth puckered into an o when he exhaled the smoke. She realizes that she’s staring. All the same, she can’t stop.
He glanced at her. “Anything else you wanted to say?”
She shook her head.
“Then why are you still here?”
Why was she still here? Why had she followed him? Why couldn’t she leave him alone? If his behavior at the moment was anything to judge by, he obviously wanted her to.
She stared at a crack on the pavement, scuffed the toe of her uncomfortable, expensive shoes against it. “I leave in three days. I guess I just wanted to say goodbye.”
He moved closer. She didn’t like it but at the same time she wanted him closer still. She felt too many warring emotions when she was around him, to be in his presence was to be in constant turmoil. It was good that she was getting away. That’s what she kept telling herself.
He took a piece of her hair between his fingers. “It’s darker.”
“For the role.”
She still doesn’t look at him and he doesn’t say anything. He plays with her hair idly, twirling it around his finger. She should tell him to stop but she doesn’t want to. It feels nice. The silence stretched on.
“I guess I’ll see you around,” she said hesitantly.
He tilted her face up to look at him, cradling her cheeks in his large hands. She couldn’t breathe, he was too close.
She couldn’t read his expression, or maybe she was just afraid to. Afraid to look too deeply into his eyes or to study the wrinkles on his forehead, and the lines around his lips. Afraid that she’d look into his eyes and see the emotions that she didn’t need to see but, selfishly, wanted to so badly.
He pressed his lips to her forehead gently and her knees weakened, she clutched at his silver-gray blazer, holding the cloth captive in her fists. He moved his hands down to her shoulders.
“Yeah, I’ll see you,” he whispered.
-
The cool water felt good on her overheated face. Kristen looked into the mirror and was relieved that the redness in her face and neck had faded enough. She felt a little grimy with dried sweat and contemplated taking a shower. But then she’d have to change into something when she got out of the shower and somehow a tee shirt and sweats seemed inappropriate while something lacy and barely there would seem too eager, too seductress.
She didn’t want in his pants that badly. Well, maybe she did. But she certainly didn’t want him to know it.
She exited the bathroom and began to pace the length of the large and impractical hotel room which she only took because the organizers paid for it. It was ridiculous to be nervous. It wasn’t like she and Rob hadn’t done stuff before. Not all the way stuff but enough. Just the memory of the closet earlier that afternoon made her blood boil.
She tried lying down on the bed and then sitting on the couch. The sun was setting outside, casting a red-orange glow into the room. Kristen started pacing again. She was acting like a teenage girl.
She was a teenage girl, technically, but she’d never really felt like one. It was like she had bypassed the whole awkward, fumbling, insecure stage and come out if not confident then at least self-aware. And here she was now, unraveling slowly because of a guy.
She could have let the rational side of herself take over and talk her away from the edge of the precipice she seemed to be balancing on. She would have. But the lock on the door beeped and Robert was standing there in front of her in all his disheveled glory. And she toppled over the edge.
-
Her finger hovered over the ‘call’ button. It was nearly two am, would he even be awake? No, more likely, would he even be home? Nikki, being the perceptive friend that she was had been keeping her updated on her many outings with Rob without Kristen even asking her to. But Nikki was in New York now and Rob certainly had his own friends and apparently many parties and clubs to go to in L.A.
She sighed and pressed the button hoping that it went straight to voicemail. She was pathetic enough that she could admit to herself that she just needed to hear his voice. That was all.
One ring…Two rings…Three…Four…Kristen crossed her fingers and prayed for his voicemail.
“‘Lo?” Rob answered, his voice thick with sleep.
“Uh…hi,” she said timidly.
“Kris?” She heard some fumbling. “Bugger, it’s two in the morning!”
“Yeah, sorry. I know it’s late, I just…” She trailed off, realizing that she didn’t have a legitimate reason to be calling him at this hour but damnit, her heart fluttered at just the sound of his voice.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.”
“Then shouldn’t it be your boyfriend that you’re calling in the middle of the night?” He said roughly. She flinched.
“Probably,” she whispered, playing with the pillow on her lap.
“Look, Kristen.” She heard sheets rustling and bit her lip, trying to fight off the images of him in bed. “I can’t keep up with you and frankly, I’m tired of trying to. I think my feelings are embarrassingly clear and you have Michael and I’m trying to respect that. Stuff like this makes that very hard.”
“I know. I know this is stupid and unfair of me but…you’re my friend, right? And I need you, I do. As a friend.” Kristen hated how vulnerable she sounded but it was true. She almost felt physically incapable of staying away from him. The past month had been torture.
He was silent for a long time although she could hear his breathing. She didn’t dare say anything more.
“How’s filming going?”
Kristen flopped onto her back on the bed, she could have cried with relief. “It’s pretty good.”
“Enjoying being a stripper, huh? I gotta say I am looking forward to this movie.”
She laughed and curled up beneath the blankets, the banter coming back between them easily.
-
His hands slipped under her shirt, caressing the smooth skin of her back as his mouth moved urgently against hers. His fingers skirted at the edge of her bra and he tried to pull her shirt up but she resisted, pushing him until the back of his legs hit the bed, her lips never parting from his.
“I seem to recall a debt I owe you,” she breathed.
He groaned, seeking out her lips again. “I’m not keeping score.”
“Still,” she pushed down on his shoulders, forcing him to sit. She straddled his lap and began unbuttoning his shirt, sliding each button slowly out of its hole, her brow furrowed in concentration.
Robert smoothed out the wrinkles on her forehead with his thumb. “You’re cute like this.”
Kristen frowned and her hands wavered in its task. She didn’t want to be cute. She knew perfectly well that she wasn’t conventionally sexy, not like actresses are supposed to be anyway. She didn’t have Nikki’s butt or Ashley’s boobs. Most of the time she really didn’t care, she wasn’t in this business to look pretty or to go prancing around in the latest fashionable clothes. But Robert had a way of looking at her that made her feel desirable and sexy. He looked at her like he wanted her. Or at least she thought he did.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He put his hands over hers, picking up on her change of mood.
“Cute?” She spat out, like it was a dirty word.
Robert laughed. He actually laughed. She scowled and moved to get off his lap but he locked his arms tightly around her waist. Her chest pressed against his and she could feel the vibrations in his chest. It wasn’t often that Kristen felt the age gap between herself and Robert but she felt it clearly now. She felt like a teenage girl, like a silly, cute teenage girl.
“Sexy cute,” he murmured, reaching up one hand to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear. He cupped her cheek in one hand and tilted her chin up with his thumb, forcing her eyes to meet his.
And she saw it. The look was there and Kristen knew she wasn’t imagining it. There was no mistaking the desire, lust, and…love. And it was all for her.
She kissed him, offering herself up to him. Now ready to give him everything that she couldn’t before.
She finished unbuttoning his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders and down his arms. She trailed kisses down his jaw, his neck, pausing to lick the hickey she had left earlier. Rob hissed in pleasure. She continued down his chest, swirling her tongue around one nipple and then the other. He moaned and clutched at her shirt, bunching the back of it in his fists. She absolutely loved knowing that she could affect him this way. Encouraged, she kept going down, slipping off his lap to kneel on the floor between his legs.
“They were right about one thing,” she said as she unbuttoned his pants and pulled the zipper down. “I do know the answer to the super important boxer or briefs question.”
“Great use of the Kbitch face back there,” he chuckled. “I applaud you.”
“Don’t applaud yet,” she smirked, pulling down his pants and boxer-briefs, taking them off along with his shoes and socks.
Finally she could turn her attention to his cock, standing up at attention for her. She wrapped one hand around him, marveling at the feel of him.
Rob groaned, tossing his head back. “Kristen…”
She shivered in pleasure, loving her effect on him, and carefully licked the underside of his cock before closing her mouth around him. He moaned loudly, various curse words flying from his mouth as she began moving up and down, taking in as much of him as she could.
“Kris-…Fuu-uck…” His hands tangled in her hair, gently guiding her rhythm.
She peered up at him and was greeted with a sight so beautiful to her and so utterly arousing, she felt that the wetness in her panties might soak right through to her jeans. Robert’s head was tossed back, his eyes closed, and his mouth parted. The expression on his face showed pure pleasure. Kristen felt a thrill run through her. She was doing this to him.
She redoubled her efforts, moving faster and stroking the base of his shaft with her hand.
“Kris…please…” He moaned. “I’m going to…”
She used her other hand to cup his balls, feeling them tighten. With a long, loud moan he came and she quickly swallowed, taking in every drop. Spent, Robert flopped onto his back and she released his cock, leaving one last kiss on the tip.
She crawled over him, running her hands through his messy hair and gently kissing his closed eyelids.
“You’re going to kill me,” he said, his breaths coming in short and quick spurts.
“Not yet,” she smiled. “You haven’t fucked me yet.”
“We should get on that then.”
And faster than she thought possible in his current state, Kristen was on her back.
-
It was also at nearly two am when she knocked on his door. It occurred to her that he might not be home. Or worse, that he was home but not alone. Suddenly this didn’t seem like a very good idea. But she kept knocking anyway.
The door opened and a very bleary eyed Robert slumped in front of her, wearing only boxers. Kristen tried to control her heart, it was racing right out of her chest.
“Kristen?” He rubbed his eyes with one hand and pulled at his hair with the other. “What the hell?”
“I’m back?” She said tentatively, peeking cautiously over his shoulder for another occupant of the apartment.
“I can see that. Do you know what time it is?”
“I know it’s late,” she hesitated. “Are you alone?”
Robert looked at her incredulously, wide awake now. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“It’s a legitimate question,” she said defensively.
He looked like he was about to retort but held the door open instead, gesturing her inside. She walked into his living room which, unsurprisingly, still had a few opened but unpacked boxes scattered around.
“Not that it’s any of your business but there’s no one here,” he said. “You can go into the bedroom if you like. Maybe take a look under the bed or in the closet?”
She ignored him and tried to gather her thoughts. It was very hard to think when he was standing right in front of her practically naked.
She wrung her hands nervously and avoided looking into his eyes or any part of his body. Except his feet. His very large feet.
“Michael’s a great guy,” she said, still staring at his feet. He had very long toes. “He’s smart and kind and honest and dependable. He has his own career and friends but that hardly gets in the way because he’s always there when I want him to be. Even when I don’t want him to be, I guess. He’s there and it’s comfortable. And I broke up with him.”
“Kristen…” He started.
“No,” she ran her hands through her hair. “Let me finish. I do care for Michael very deeply. I’m pretty sure I loved him, or what I felt for him was what I thought was love. But I can’t be with him when I feel something so much bigger for someone else. And I don’t even understand it,” she said, her voice rising, sounding slightly hysterical even to her.
“You infuriate me and you make me laugh. I admire you and I want to slap you silly. You make me feel all these…things and the more I try to push it all away, the more intense it gets. I miss you when I don’t see you and I miss you when I’m talking to you. When I was standing outside, I was worried that you might have someone in here with you and I was jealous. I never get jealous! I don’t-”
“Kristen!” He cut her off, cupping her face in his hands and pressing his forehead to hers. “I love you too.”
And he pressed his lips to hers before she could say anything. Kristen wrapped her arms around him, molding her body to his. She felt like a huge weight had lifted off of her. This was right, she felt it in her bones.
That night they slept together for the first time, in the literal sense. It was a night that Kristen would forever remember as one of the best nights of her life. They talked about everything and nothing. The intimacy of falling asleep and waking up in Robert’s arms was overwhelming and yet she had never felt more content.
-
He practically ripped her shirt off. Her bra soon followed and he forged a path with his lips and tongue down her neck, her collarbone, her chest. He kissed around the swell of each breast, and then blew on the hardened tip of the left one. She moaned. Apparently that was all the encouragement he needed because he took her nipple between his lips, licking and sucking with abandon while his hand kneaded the other one.
Kristen writhed beneath him, tugging at his hair. He switched his attention to her other breast and repeated the process. The ache between her legs was growing more and more pronounced.
“Rob…please…” She tried to unbuckle her belt but he caught her hands.
“Let me do that.” He made quick work of her belt buckle and the button and zipper on her jeans, easing it down her hips and pulled it gently, and far too slowly for her taste, off her legs.
She was now only in her panties, which were already wet. He gazed down at her and there was so much awe, desire and love in his eyes that she didn’t feel self-conscious. She felt beautiful.
He slowly began pulling her panties down, looking up at her as if to check that this was okay. Her heart warmed at his consideration but she was getting more than a little impatient and the throbbing between her legs was growing more urgent.
“Rob, please, I need you,” she said as soon as he had gotten her panties off, carelessly tossing them aside.
He dipped his head between her legs, licking her clit once and she moaned loudly. And then he was above her, positioning himself at her entrance.
His mouth covered hers, swallowing her scream as he pushed into her. Kristen felt an intense relief at finally having him inside of her. They had pleasured each other a lot in the past couple of weeks and while every orgasm had been amazing, there had been a little piece of missing. This was it. He filled every part of her and with this final connection in place, she knew without a doubt that he belonged with her. She pulled away from his kiss to look into his eyes and was relieved to see the fire she felt mirrored there.
Robert began moving slowly, his gaze still locked on hers. The sensation was overwhelming. Kristen brought her legs up and locked them around his waist. He slid his hands down her ass and tilted her hips up slightly, the angle allowing him to go in even deeper.
“Oh god…Rob!”
Each smooth stroke sent her to heaven. The angle was delicious and she met each of his thrusts eagerly. He groaned as his pace increased, pumping into her faster. Kristen felt sparks of electricity just beneath her skin, like little firecrackers pushing to get out.
Robert’s eyes closed in agony and ecstasy. “Kristen…Oh god…Kristen!”
Skin slapped against skin as they moved faster and faster, still in perfect timing with each other. His hand found it was way between their bodies, and he rubbed her clit with his thumb.
“Ro-oob…” She moaned, falling over the edge. The firecrackers in her skin went off and she was shaking and quivering beneath him, her arms wrapped around him, her fingers struggling to find purchase on his sweaty back.
Her name was a chant in her ear, interspersed with moans, as Robert shuddered above her. He clutched her tightly as the spasms rolled through her body.
“Love you,” she whispered as she came down from her high.
He pushed her sweat soaked hair off her forehead and kissed her there. “Love you too,” he murmured. “God, you have no idea.”
He rolled off of her and she curled up into his side, his arms wrapped around her. Kristen felt content, peaceful and…happy. She could do this. She could face the thousands of screaming fangirls and the increasingly prying press. As long as she had Robert by her side, she could do it all.
-
He walked quickly down the hallway, her hand caught in his in a vise grip. She struggled to keep pace with his long legs.
“Rob,” she hissed. “What are you doing? They’re waiting for us. We have interviews to do.”
“We have thirty minutes. I checked,” he grinned down at her, not breaking his stride. “This is your fault, you know. If you hadn’t insisted we come down here separately then traffic would have been far less boring.”
“It would have too obvious if we insisted on taking a car down here on our own.”
He stopped abruptly in front of a door. “I think this will do,” he said, opening it.
She peeked in. “A supply closet? No fucking way.”
“Come on.” He kissed her. “I’ll make it worth your while,” he murmured against her lips, backing into the closet.
-
A week later Kristen received an email. Attached to it was the picture of herself and Rob that Rachelle had taken.
Hey Kristen!
I thought you might like this. You guys are cute together. I’ve deleted this off my camera and I’ll be deleting it off my hard drive as soon as this email is sent. Your secret is safe with me. :)
xoxxx
Rachelle
RPF. Robert Pattinson/Kristen Stewart. NC-17. 7,815 words.
Summary: A sequel/companion to Hickeys. Comic Con continues and snapshots of moments that lead Kristen and Robert to that closet.
Why yes, this is a 7000+ word sequel to a 684 word fic. lol.
Note: This is the longest fic I've written so far and I have slaved over it these past couple of weeks. I dedicate this to everyone who wanted a sequel to Hickeys. This probably isn't exactly what you had in mind but I tried, I really did.
Most of all I dedicate this to the following people:
Katie (h0ttie_x0) because I promised a long time ago that I would dedicate this to you. And also, happy belated birthday! I tried to get it done in time, I really did. Consider it belated birthday fic. :)
Charlie (lemmy_01). I hope you enjoy the little section I wrote just for you, in honor of the challenge you gave me. :D
Sam (hiddenxharmony) for putting up with all my whining about this fic. lol. :D
The title is from the song The Walk by Imogen Heap.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth
Robert Frost
Her hands were shaking. Kristen took long, deep breaths trying to get her heart rate back to normal. She pulled at her shirt, attempting to smooth out the wrinkles and then touched up the little make-up that she wore. Finally she felt like she might be ready to go out and face the world.
Then she ran her tongue over her lips and even through the new coat of lip gloss, she could still taste him. His taste, his smell was everywhere on her, seared onto her skin. And she was supposed to face over six thousand people like this.
Her hands were shaking again and Kristen dropped her bag onto the counter and rifled through it, searching for her cigarettes. This is what she’d been reduced to, smoking in the women’s restroom at Comic Con. Fucking great.
Scew Robert Pattinson.
Unfortunately, that was exactly what she wanted to do. Over and over again.
She leaned back against the wall and took a deep drag of her cig, exhaling slowly as she closed her eyes and relived the feeling of his lips against hers, his talented fingers….
-
There was a natural chemistry between them. That’s what Catherine had said, bright eyed and bouncing in excitement as soon as the audition was over.
He had walked in looking rumpled, scruffy, and with a glazed look in his eyes that she suspected was chemically induced. She wondered briefly if he was an actor or someone who wandered in from the streets. She glanced at his file and saw that he was in Harry Potter. She squinted at him, trying to see if she could recognize him. She couldn’t even remember which of those Potter movies she had seen. He catches her staring and she flushes.
Somehow, the audition ended up taking place on Catherine’s bed. He smelled nicer than Kristen thought he would. Really nice.
And then he touched her, feather light. Her heart thudded. His fingers trailed down her arm and it was like a slow burning, the heat crawling through her body, warming her bit by bit.
She looked into his eyes and there was surprising intensity there. Forget the scruff, the messy hair and the smoke she could smell on his breath. In this moment, he was Edward Cullen.
This was more like it. She hadn’t realized until this moment that she was afraid that she’d be stuck acting opposite someone that didn’t challenge her. Someone who wouldn’t make working on teen fluff like this even semi-bearable.
Quickly, she locked ‘Kristen’ away in her quiet corner. New energy rushed through her as she let ‘Bella’ seep into her bones, taking conscious control. There was no more room in her mind for her own thoughts. She was ruled by foreign emotions that quickly became her own. This was acting and Kristen loved it. She breathed it.
And then, right on cue, he kissed her. She was jerked back into her body and she was suddenly so very aware. Aware of his fingers right above her hip, her shoulder brushing against his arm. His lips were so soft and he tasted like cigarettes, mints, and maybe beer. Her body slumped into his and his lips were suddenly gone. She heard a loud thump and when she opened her eyes, Robert was on the floor.
Catherine started laughing and then Rob was laughing and she was laughing. And just like that, Kristen knew that he had gotten the part.
She also knew that she was in deep shit.
-
She walked by a room and heard his voice, she would know that voice and accent anywhere. She peeked in the open doorway and saw him talking to the MTV guy, giving an interview. She smiled as she watched him laugh, his eyes crinkling up in an adorable way.
“Kristen!”
She turned around to see Rachelle waving at her from the other end of the hall and made her way over to her.
“They were about to send out a search party for you,” she said.
“I just walked off the nerves a little.”
Rachelle smiled sympathetically. “Hey, I think you have something here,” she leaned in closer to examine her collarbone.
Kristen looked down but she didn’t need to see it to know what it was. Fuck Robert. Did he have to mark her too? So much for discretion.
“It’s a rash, I think.” She pulled up the collar of her shirt and leaned away from Rachelle’s prying fingers. “I break out sometimes when I’m really nervous.”
“Okay,” she said agreeably but Kristen could see a twinkle in her eyes and knew that she didn’t completely buy her excuse.
Rachelle held up her camera. “Let’s take a picture!”
“I don’t-”
“I’ll take it for you guys.” That familiar voice said behind her. She turned around to see Robert grinning crookedly at her.
“Great!” Rachelle eagerly handed him her camera. Her eyes widened slightly as she took in Rob’s rumpled shirt and the much larger hickey on his neck. To Kristen’s great relief, she didn’t say anything at all and threw an arm around her shoulder. She gratefully wrapped an arm around her waist.
Rob held up the camera. “Say you love me,” he laughed.
“We love you!” Rachelle practically shouted.
Kristen stuck her tongue out at him. A click then a flash. She blinks but then figures she should get used to it, the flashes later on will be much worse.
In one swift motion, Rachelle pushed Kristen over to Robert and grabbed her camera back. “Let me take one of you guys.”
She’s about to protest vehemently but Rob wraps his arms around her middle and rests his chin on her shoulder. Her mind is screaming No, no, this isn’t right. Too obvious! but her body - traitorous thing - responds to him. She leans back into him and even smiles slightly. And there’s absolutely no way that Rachelle doesn’t know now.
A click and a flash.
“Thanks guys. We should go in, everyone’s waiting,” she winks at Kristen as she walks past them and into the crowded, noisy room.
-
She couldn’t say no to him, even then. He’d look at her with those eyes - his eyes - and she could never really tell if they were gray, blue or green but when he looked at her so pleadingly, so sincerely, it didn’t matter. She was a goner.
He’d asked, no insisted, that she come watch him play at some small, out of the way bar - or pub as he called it - in Portland. Jackson had found the place and assured Rob that even the mom stalkers wouldn’t be able to find it.
She bristled when she saw that Katie was there but managed to find out from Nikki that Rob hadn’t invited her and that she tagged along with Paul. After that Kristen felt better enough to relax at a table, front and center, and down a drink or two or more. Jackson and Ashley were flirting on her right and Nikki was chatting with Paul and Katie on her left but when he took the stage, she couldn’t see or hear anything else.
Her heart stuttered as he picked out the first chords on his guitar then his voice washed over her, different than what she expected but still good. He kept his eyes on her throughout the entire song and Kristen was glad she was sitting down. Her legs would not have supported her right then.
That was the first night that she knew, without a doubt, that her control was slipping away from her.
-
Her ears were ringing from the screams and her hands were shaking again, though for a completely different reason now. She blinked at the large crowd, not quite believing the turn-out. The only comfort she had was that Rob was sitting beside her and he was just as nervous, maybe even more, than she was.
She glanced at him and then did a double take. “Your shirt is inside out!” She whispered.
He glances down. “It is?”
“Weren’t you ever taught how to dress yourself?”
“Bit hard to do in the dark.”
She scowled at him.
“Relax, love. The shirt is black, no one will notice,” he said, leaning in closer to her than he probably should.
“I got your present,” he grinned and she couldn’t tell if he was trying to placate her or distract her.
Taylor was answering a question, she tried to pay attention to what he was saying and at the same time ignore the nausea that the crowd in front of her was causing.
“Not now,” she muttered.
“Pour me a drink, will you, love?”
She did so and couldn’t help but grin when he downed it like a man who had walked through the Sahara.
“I’m going to throw up,” she said.
“Look at me,” he commanded. She reluctantly raised her eyes to his. “Right now, I’m thinking of all the things I’m going to do to you tonight.”
Her breath hitches and she fixes her gaze to her left - Cam’s profile, Rachelle’s hair - even though Catherine is the one who’s speaking now. Her pulse is racing for an entirely different reason than nerves now as her own brain fills with images of all the things she’d like him to do her.
Two can play at this game.
“I thought it was my turn to do things to you. And believe me, I have plans,” she licks her lips slowly, deliberately.
He gets asked a question and he stumbles through an answer, laughing that big laugh of his and running his hand repeatedly through his hair. Satisfaction warms her inside.
-
“I’m moving to L.A.”
He said it out of nowhere. They were eating ice cream (Rocky Road, her choice) out of a carton and watching an episode of Doctor Who (his choice) when they were supposed to be rehearsing and he said it like it was a decision he just made, on the spur of the moment. Knowing him, maybe it was.
She shrugged, doing her best to show nonchalance at this announcement. “Figured you would.”
“So, Ms. L.A. native, will you help me apartment hunt?” He grinned.
“Why don’t you just get a trailer? It suits your style,” she eyed his plaid shirt and worn jeans. “Or lack of it.”
He was quiet for a moment and he actually looked like he was contemplating it. “That’s not a bad idea.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not being serious.”
“I am.”
“Piece of advice? A trailer is not an attractive bachelor pad. I’m sure your agent will hook you up with a place in no time.”
“Bachelor pad,” he said thoughtfully, licking his spoon. Her eyes gravitated to his tongue. She tried not to hyperventilate. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Thought of getting a ridiculously expensive apartment to show off to all the girls you’ll be taking home with you,” she scoffed. “Sure. Why else move to L.A.?”
“For work, mostly,” he mumbled, looking down. “And it’s not like that, not really. I’m usually shit about approaching girls.”
“Please. You’re just pulling your modest crap again.”
“It’s true!”
“Okay, you’re not exactly a smooth talker,” she said. “But you have a certain charm…”
He grinned at her, that full out boyish grin she loved. “You think so?”
She blushed. “Sometimes. When you’re not being a pain in the ass.”
He laughed.
“You won’t have problems on the girls front. You’re Edward Cullen, you can just dazzle them.” She laughed at the horrified face he made. “And you have the accent. That will be more helpful to you here than it probably is in England.”
“Girls do like the accent here,” he agreed. “But that’s not what I’m looking for.”
“What are you looking for?”
“I don’t know. Just something different, I guess,” he said thoughtfully then he looked at her with that look, the intense one he sometimes got.
She shoveled ice cream into her mouth in the vain hope that it would quell the heat growing inside her stomach.
Maybe it had been on her mind that at the end of filming, he’d go back to England and she’d maybe miss him a little bit. Maybe.
And so really, she couldn’t help but be a little thrilled at this recent development. And she knew there were probably a million reasons why it made sense for him to move to L.A. right now, at this point in his career, and none of those could possibly include her. But maybe a very tiny, irrational part of her hoped. Especially when he looked at her like that.
Maybe.
-
The lights go down and they’re showing a scene from the movie.
She cringes, not really sure if she wants to see this. Beside her Cam stands and leans over the table to get a better view. Robert places a hand on her thigh and even in the semi-darkness she can see that look in his eyes.
She puts her hand over his and she’s vaguely aware of the screaming but the sound is muted, like she’s been submerged underwater. His hand strokes her thigh, going higher and higher…
It’s only minutes later that the lights come back on but it feels like hours. He takes his hand away, and she’s silently gasping for breath, feeling dizzy and out of sorts.
He does that to her. She doesn’t want to like it.
-
It was the end of filming. But not really the end, though. She still had more scenes to shoot in L.A. It was, however, time to say goodbye to Oregon.
In the extremely laid back environment of the wrap party, she could see the utter relief in the crew’s eyes. The people who had to deal with the shitty, unpredictable weather and not just stand around underneath a big umbrella waiting for the rain, hail, sun or whatever to pass. L.A. weather was going to be much kinder to the film equipment and the scheduling.
Los Angeles. She was going home. Why did the thought fill her with dread instead of the usual joy and relief that’s always been present for her at the end of filming? The homesickness that wrapped itself around her body like a cord in the past had been strangely absent in the past few weeks.
She told herself that it’s because she’s made friends here, fell into a routine, and Portland isn’t as far from home as Canada and Pennsylvania and all the other places she’s been. But she had to try in vain to keep her eyes off the one person that she knew made all the difference.
The next day Kristen would be going home to her family, friends and boyfriend. She should be happy about it. A part of her was happy about it. It was time to pop the bubble she’d been living in for the past three months. She had a real life to get back to and so did he.
But as she watched him amble around the large room, talking to practically everyone, she couldn’t help but be resentful of how much easier it seemed to be for him to climb out of the bubble. She thought they were sharing it, so why could he escape while she remained trapped inside?
She drained her glass of wine and slipped out of the room, walking through the lobby of the hotel until she found a quiet, narrow hallway. She leaned against the wall and slumped down to the ground.
She didn’t keep track of time but it couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes when Robert finds her. Of course he does. He sits down next to her and she tries to ignore the pinpricks of electricity radiating from all the places their bodies touch, their shoulders, hips, knees.
“I’ll miss this,” he said.
“The crappy weather?”
“You,” he corrected.
“We’re not Bella and Edward,” she sighed.
He nudged her. “I think we are, for just a few more weeks.”
Just a few more weeks.
Kristen looked at him. His face was very close to hers. His breath was warm on her face. Under this light his eyes looked very green.
She didn’t know who moved first. All she was aware of next was his lips on hers, his hair so soft underneath her fingers, her chest pressed against his. She opened her mouth to him and his tongue moved against hers. She didn’t know if she was lost or if she was found. But in that moment they were one and the bubble encased them both.
-
More flashes, just as she dreaded. People yell, telling her to smile and look this way and that. She thinks that this may be her least favorite part about this job, even more than awkward interviews where she gets asked either repetitive questions or intrusive personal ones. This feeling of being on display is the worst.
But then he’s there beside her, the warmth radiating from his body pressing into her side and she can breathe easier and smile bigger. She clasps her hands behind her back to stop them from latching onto him the way they desperately want to. She leans her body a bit, tilts her head a little, trying to get close without being too obvious and she’s grateful that Taylor is suddenly there on her other side being the usual bundle of energy that he is.
Robert’s fingers graze her lower back, just a tiny bit, just for a second, touching the small bit of flesh exposed between her shirt and pants. Electricity shoots up her spine and the memory of what they were doing in the closet presses to forefront of her mind. That naturally leads to thoughts of what they will be doing later on.
This was the longest day of her life.
-
“That’s a wrap!” Catherine yelled and the crew broke into cheers.
Kristen was swept into a sea of hugs and handshakes but her body sagged tiredly and her smile was forced. She just wasn’t able to muster the joy that everyone felt now that filming was officially over.
Robert was at the other side of the truck, happily shaking hands with the crew. She hated how aware she was of him at all times. She hated the pain in her chest as she realized that it really was time to pop the bubble now. No more pretending.
She rubbed her eyes and tried to milk her exhaustion. It worked. Catherine hugged her tightly and pushed her in the direction of her trailer, telling her to finally get some rest. Kristen did go to her trailer but sat on the steps instead of going inside.
Only a couple of yards away, Michael was waiting for her. It was almost five in the morning and he was still there. He had stood around waiting for hours and it was sweet and thoughtful and yet…She wished that he wasn’t there. She wished…She couldn’t even think it, she felt so guilty.
She closed her eyes and leaned back against the door. She could feel his approach, not hear it. She really hated this and she had no logical explanation for it, it was like her body always reacted to him long before her mind could catch up. She hated that she was huddled under her coat but felt instantly warmer when he sat down beside her, even though he sat far enough away that he wasn’t touching her.
They hadn’t talked about the kiss. The first night they all got back to L.A., Michael had crashed their cast dinner and it was like there was an unspoken agreement between her and Robert to never bring up the kiss. It was almost as if speaking of the kiss would ruin the magic of it.
A minute passed by. Two, three…Kristen didn’t have a watch but she was pretty sure that five minutes had gone by and he still hadn’t spoken. It had to be some kind of record. She didn’t know that Robert was even capable of sitting still and staying silent for so long. He was hunched over slightly, his forearms resting on his thighs, his eyes were fixed on some invisible point in the distance. She stared at his profile, trying to memorize the curve of his nose, the shape of his lips…her fingers itched to trace his jaw line.
Finally he broke the silence. “Michael is waiting for you.”
Kristen blinked. She wasn’t expecting that. And then she realized. This was it, he was saying goodbye. She wasn’t prepared for the ache in her chest, it gripped her, knocked her breathless.
He stood up and she did too. She watched his back as he walked away.
“Wait!” She called out.
He turned. “For what?”
She bit her lip, scrambling in her mind for an answer. He walked back over to her.
“Wait for what, Kristen?” He asked softly.
She wrapped her arms around herself, tilting her head up to look into his eyes. She didn’t know how to answer. He had to leave, she wanted him to stay.
“Hey, are you done?”
She looked up and Michael was standing a few feet away. He looked at her then at Robert and back at her again, his eyes uncertain. She backed away from Robert instinctively.
He looked at Michael briefly but Robert’s eyes were locked on hers as he said, “Yeah, we’re done.”
Kristen’s stomach dropped and pain twisted in her chest as she watched him turn and walk away again. She couldn’t call out to him, he wouldn’t stop even if she did.
Michael wrapped an arm around her and she let her exhausted body sag into his. He was saying something about getting decent coffee and breakfast with Nikki.
“No, I just want to go home,” she sighed.
-
Kristen said her thank yous to the Borders people and breathed deeply as she prepared herself to walk back into the throng of reporters and photographers. Would this day never end?
A large hand grabbed hers and she was being dragged away to the side of the building. Kristen glanced behind her to make sure no one was watching them. As soon as they rounded the corner, Robert pressed her up against the wall and kissed her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, opening her mouth beneath his, allowing him access which he took full advantage of.
But soon, much too soon, he pulled away. He leaned his forehead against hers, his heavy breathing matching hers.
“Really glad you did it?” He grinned.
She rolled her eyes. “Not because of you.”
He chuckled and kissed her again, just a small peck.
“You’re so full of yourself.”
“I really want to get out of here,” he murmured.
“We could make a break for it,” she suggested.
“We’ll get chased after with torches. Or worse, flashing cameras.”
She grimaced and then reluctantly pushed him away from her. “Fix your shirt.”
He smirked and walked away, back to the group of waiting press.
“Rob!” She called after him as loud as she dared, tucking her body into the side of building to not be seen. He kept walking and Kristen groaned in frustration.
-
“With an amazing romance on the screen, is there anything off screen at all between you two?”
“Yeah. I mean, I asked her to marry me four times. But it didn’t go anywhere. It just fizzled out, fizzled out.”
I asked her to marry me four times. He was joking around, of course. Just like he always does. It meant nothing. And yet the whole thing kept replaying in Kristen’s mind, on constant loop.
She hated questions like those, prying, intrusive, personal questions. She was in this business to act, not to flaunt her private life and have photographers following her every move.
He handled it all much better than she did. She turned into a nervous train wreck who has trouble stringing words together, while he stutters and rambles adorably, says the first thing that pops into his head which is usually sarcastic and humorous. Female fans all around the world swoon.
Michael asked her for the fifth time in less than an hour if she was ready to leave. She wanted to snap at him to just leave if he wanted to but remembers that he only came because she begged him to. So that she wouldn’t have to be alone with Robert. It seemed like a good idea at the time but she wanted to find a very deep hole in the ground to crawl into whenever the two of them were within a few feet of each other.
Kristen couldn’t blame Michael for being bored and irritated. God knows she wouldn’t attend this thing if she didn’t have to. The pre-show and the live show were bad enough, attending the after party definitely wasn’t part of the plan.
She saw it even from across the room. A flash of unruly reddish-brown. She shrugged out from beneath Michael’s arm and handed him her drink.
“Meet me at the car in ten minutes,” she called over her shoulder.
He was making his way to the door and like a moth to a flame she followed. Funny how after all the persuading she did to get Michael to come with her, she still had to go out of her way to get him alone. Kristen never was a fan of irony so she wished she could explain to herself just what in the hell she was doing.
She followed him through the crowd of scantily clad, gyrating bodies, past photographers, out into the hallway of people standing around chatting idly. He pushed through an emergency exit and she rushed to catch the heavy door before it closed.
They’re in an empty alley and he’s lighting up a cigarette, his back to her.
She cleared her throat. He jumped and spun around, the cigarette falling out of his mouth. “Christ! I thought you were some fan that followed me.”
“You do have a lot of stalkers,” she said wryly.
He looked at his wasted cig, the corners of his mouth tugging down adorably. He stomped on it and lit up a new one.
“What do you want?” He muttered.
“We’re leaving. If you want a ride…”
He chuckled. “Because the ride on the way here was so fun. I’ll manage on my own, thanks.”
She watched his lips as he took a deep drag of the cig, his mouth puckered into an o when he exhaled the smoke. She realizes that she’s staring. All the same, she can’t stop.
He glanced at her. “Anything else you wanted to say?”
She shook her head.
“Then why are you still here?”
Why was she still here? Why had she followed him? Why couldn’t she leave him alone? If his behavior at the moment was anything to judge by, he obviously wanted her to.
She stared at a crack on the pavement, scuffed the toe of her uncomfortable, expensive shoes against it. “I leave in three days. I guess I just wanted to say goodbye.”
He moved closer. She didn’t like it but at the same time she wanted him closer still. She felt too many warring emotions when she was around him, to be in his presence was to be in constant turmoil. It was good that she was getting away. That’s what she kept telling herself.
He took a piece of her hair between his fingers. “It’s darker.”
“For the role.”
She still doesn’t look at him and he doesn’t say anything. He plays with her hair idly, twirling it around his finger. She should tell him to stop but she doesn’t want to. It feels nice. The silence stretched on.
“I guess I’ll see you around,” she said hesitantly.
He tilted her face up to look at him, cradling her cheeks in his large hands. She couldn’t breathe, he was too close.
She couldn’t read his expression, or maybe she was just afraid to. Afraid to look too deeply into his eyes or to study the wrinkles on his forehead, and the lines around his lips. Afraid that she’d look into his eyes and see the emotions that she didn’t need to see but, selfishly, wanted to so badly.
He pressed his lips to her forehead gently and her knees weakened, she clutched at his silver-gray blazer, holding the cloth captive in her fists. He moved his hands down to her shoulders.
“Yeah, I’ll see you,” he whispered.
-
The cool water felt good on her overheated face. Kristen looked into the mirror and was relieved that the redness in her face and neck had faded enough. She felt a little grimy with dried sweat and contemplated taking a shower. But then she’d have to change into something when she got out of the shower and somehow a tee shirt and sweats seemed inappropriate while something lacy and barely there would seem too eager, too seductress.
She didn’t want in his pants that badly. Well, maybe she did. But she certainly didn’t want him to know it.
She exited the bathroom and began to pace the length of the large and impractical hotel room which she only took because the organizers paid for it. It was ridiculous to be nervous. It wasn’t like she and Rob hadn’t done stuff before. Not all the way stuff but enough. Just the memory of the closet earlier that afternoon made her blood boil.
She tried lying down on the bed and then sitting on the couch. The sun was setting outside, casting a red-orange glow into the room. Kristen started pacing again. She was acting like a teenage girl.
She was a teenage girl, technically, but she’d never really felt like one. It was like she had bypassed the whole awkward, fumbling, insecure stage and come out if not confident then at least self-aware. And here she was now, unraveling slowly because of a guy.
She could have let the rational side of herself take over and talk her away from the edge of the precipice she seemed to be balancing on. She would have. But the lock on the door beeped and Robert was standing there in front of her in all his disheveled glory. And she toppled over the edge.
-
Her finger hovered over the ‘call’ button. It was nearly two am, would he even be awake? No, more likely, would he even be home? Nikki, being the perceptive friend that she was had been keeping her updated on her many outings with Rob without Kristen even asking her to. But Nikki was in New York now and Rob certainly had his own friends and apparently many parties and clubs to go to in L.A.
She sighed and pressed the button hoping that it went straight to voicemail. She was pathetic enough that she could admit to herself that she just needed to hear his voice. That was all.
One ring…Two rings…Three…Four…Kristen crossed her fingers and prayed for his voicemail.
“‘Lo?” Rob answered, his voice thick with sleep.
“Uh…hi,” she said timidly.
“Kris?” She heard some fumbling. “Bugger, it’s two in the morning!”
“Yeah, sorry. I know it’s late, I just…” She trailed off, realizing that she didn’t have a legitimate reason to be calling him at this hour but damnit, her heart fluttered at just the sound of his voice.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.”
“Then shouldn’t it be your boyfriend that you’re calling in the middle of the night?” He said roughly. She flinched.
“Probably,” she whispered, playing with the pillow on her lap.
“Look, Kristen.” She heard sheets rustling and bit her lip, trying to fight off the images of him in bed. “I can’t keep up with you and frankly, I’m tired of trying to. I think my feelings are embarrassingly clear and you have Michael and I’m trying to respect that. Stuff like this makes that very hard.”
“I know. I know this is stupid and unfair of me but…you’re my friend, right? And I need you, I do. As a friend.” Kristen hated how vulnerable she sounded but it was true. She almost felt physically incapable of staying away from him. The past month had been torture.
He was silent for a long time although she could hear his breathing. She didn’t dare say anything more.
“How’s filming going?”
Kristen flopped onto her back on the bed, she could have cried with relief. “It’s pretty good.”
“Enjoying being a stripper, huh? I gotta say I am looking forward to this movie.”
She laughed and curled up beneath the blankets, the banter coming back between them easily.
-
His hands slipped under her shirt, caressing the smooth skin of her back as his mouth moved urgently against hers. His fingers skirted at the edge of her bra and he tried to pull her shirt up but she resisted, pushing him until the back of his legs hit the bed, her lips never parting from his.
“I seem to recall a debt I owe you,” she breathed.
He groaned, seeking out her lips again. “I’m not keeping score.”
“Still,” she pushed down on his shoulders, forcing him to sit. She straddled his lap and began unbuttoning his shirt, sliding each button slowly out of its hole, her brow furrowed in concentration.
Robert smoothed out the wrinkles on her forehead with his thumb. “You’re cute like this.”
Kristen frowned and her hands wavered in its task. She didn’t want to be cute. She knew perfectly well that she wasn’t conventionally sexy, not like actresses are supposed to be anyway. She didn’t have Nikki’s butt or Ashley’s boobs. Most of the time she really didn’t care, she wasn’t in this business to look pretty or to go prancing around in the latest fashionable clothes. But Robert had a way of looking at her that made her feel desirable and sexy. He looked at her like he wanted her. Or at least she thought he did.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He put his hands over hers, picking up on her change of mood.
“Cute?” She spat out, like it was a dirty word.
Robert laughed. He actually laughed. She scowled and moved to get off his lap but he locked his arms tightly around her waist. Her chest pressed against his and she could feel the vibrations in his chest. It wasn’t often that Kristen felt the age gap between herself and Robert but she felt it clearly now. She felt like a teenage girl, like a silly, cute teenage girl.
“Sexy cute,” he murmured, reaching up one hand to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear. He cupped her cheek in one hand and tilted her chin up with his thumb, forcing her eyes to meet his.
And she saw it. The look was there and Kristen knew she wasn’t imagining it. There was no mistaking the desire, lust, and…love. And it was all for her.
She kissed him, offering herself up to him. Now ready to give him everything that she couldn’t before.
She finished unbuttoning his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders and down his arms. She trailed kisses down his jaw, his neck, pausing to lick the hickey she had left earlier. Rob hissed in pleasure. She continued down his chest, swirling her tongue around one nipple and then the other. He moaned and clutched at her shirt, bunching the back of it in his fists. She absolutely loved knowing that she could affect him this way. Encouraged, she kept going down, slipping off his lap to kneel on the floor between his legs.
“They were right about one thing,” she said as she unbuttoned his pants and pulled the zipper down. “I do know the answer to the super important boxer or briefs question.”
“Great use of the Kbitch face back there,” he chuckled. “I applaud you.”
“Don’t applaud yet,” she smirked, pulling down his pants and boxer-briefs, taking them off along with his shoes and socks.
Finally she could turn her attention to his cock, standing up at attention for her. She wrapped one hand around him, marveling at the feel of him.
Rob groaned, tossing his head back. “Kristen…”
She shivered in pleasure, loving her effect on him, and carefully licked the underside of his cock before closing her mouth around him. He moaned loudly, various curse words flying from his mouth as she began moving up and down, taking in as much of him as she could.
“Kris-…Fuu-uck…” His hands tangled in her hair, gently guiding her rhythm.
She peered up at him and was greeted with a sight so beautiful to her and so utterly arousing, she felt that the wetness in her panties might soak right through to her jeans. Robert’s head was tossed back, his eyes closed, and his mouth parted. The expression on his face showed pure pleasure. Kristen felt a thrill run through her. She was doing this to him.
She redoubled her efforts, moving faster and stroking the base of his shaft with her hand.
“Kris…please…” He moaned. “I’m going to…”
She used her other hand to cup his balls, feeling them tighten. With a long, loud moan he came and she quickly swallowed, taking in every drop. Spent, Robert flopped onto his back and she released his cock, leaving one last kiss on the tip.
She crawled over him, running her hands through his messy hair and gently kissing his closed eyelids.
“You’re going to kill me,” he said, his breaths coming in short and quick spurts.
“Not yet,” she smiled. “You haven’t fucked me yet.”
“We should get on that then.”
And faster than she thought possible in his current state, Kristen was on her back.
-
It was also at nearly two am when she knocked on his door. It occurred to her that he might not be home. Or worse, that he was home but not alone. Suddenly this didn’t seem like a very good idea. But she kept knocking anyway.
The door opened and a very bleary eyed Robert slumped in front of her, wearing only boxers. Kristen tried to control her heart, it was racing right out of her chest.
“Kristen?” He rubbed his eyes with one hand and pulled at his hair with the other. “What the hell?”
“I’m back?” She said tentatively, peeking cautiously over his shoulder for another occupant of the apartment.
“I can see that. Do you know what time it is?”
“I know it’s late,” she hesitated. “Are you alone?”
Robert looked at her incredulously, wide awake now. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“It’s a legitimate question,” she said defensively.
He looked like he was about to retort but held the door open instead, gesturing her inside. She walked into his living room which, unsurprisingly, still had a few opened but unpacked boxes scattered around.
“Not that it’s any of your business but there’s no one here,” he said. “You can go into the bedroom if you like. Maybe take a look under the bed or in the closet?”
She ignored him and tried to gather her thoughts. It was very hard to think when he was standing right in front of her practically naked.
She wrung her hands nervously and avoided looking into his eyes or any part of his body. Except his feet. His very large feet.
“Michael’s a great guy,” she said, still staring at his feet. He had very long toes. “He’s smart and kind and honest and dependable. He has his own career and friends but that hardly gets in the way because he’s always there when I want him to be. Even when I don’t want him to be, I guess. He’s there and it’s comfortable. And I broke up with him.”
“Kristen…” He started.
“No,” she ran her hands through her hair. “Let me finish. I do care for Michael very deeply. I’m pretty sure I loved him, or what I felt for him was what I thought was love. But I can’t be with him when I feel something so much bigger for someone else. And I don’t even understand it,” she said, her voice rising, sounding slightly hysterical even to her.
“You infuriate me and you make me laugh. I admire you and I want to slap you silly. You make me feel all these…things and the more I try to push it all away, the more intense it gets. I miss you when I don’t see you and I miss you when I’m talking to you. When I was standing outside, I was worried that you might have someone in here with you and I was jealous. I never get jealous! I don’t-”
“Kristen!” He cut her off, cupping her face in his hands and pressing his forehead to hers. “I love you too.”
And he pressed his lips to hers before she could say anything. Kristen wrapped her arms around him, molding her body to his. She felt like a huge weight had lifted off of her. This was right, she felt it in her bones.
That night they slept together for the first time, in the literal sense. It was a night that Kristen would forever remember as one of the best nights of her life. They talked about everything and nothing. The intimacy of falling asleep and waking up in Robert’s arms was overwhelming and yet she had never felt more content.
-
He practically ripped her shirt off. Her bra soon followed and he forged a path with his lips and tongue down her neck, her collarbone, her chest. He kissed around the swell of each breast, and then blew on the hardened tip of the left one. She moaned. Apparently that was all the encouragement he needed because he took her nipple between his lips, licking and sucking with abandon while his hand kneaded the other one.
Kristen writhed beneath him, tugging at his hair. He switched his attention to her other breast and repeated the process. The ache between her legs was growing more and more pronounced.
“Rob…please…” She tried to unbuckle her belt but he caught her hands.
“Let me do that.” He made quick work of her belt buckle and the button and zipper on her jeans, easing it down her hips and pulled it gently, and far too slowly for her taste, off her legs.
She was now only in her panties, which were already wet. He gazed down at her and there was so much awe, desire and love in his eyes that she didn’t feel self-conscious. She felt beautiful.
He slowly began pulling her panties down, looking up at her as if to check that this was okay. Her heart warmed at his consideration but she was getting more than a little impatient and the throbbing between her legs was growing more urgent.
“Rob, please, I need you,” she said as soon as he had gotten her panties off, carelessly tossing them aside.
He dipped his head between her legs, licking her clit once and she moaned loudly. And then he was above her, positioning himself at her entrance.
His mouth covered hers, swallowing her scream as he pushed into her. Kristen felt an intense relief at finally having him inside of her. They had pleasured each other a lot in the past couple of weeks and while every orgasm had been amazing, there had been a little piece of missing. This was it. He filled every part of her and with this final connection in place, she knew without a doubt that he belonged with her. She pulled away from his kiss to look into his eyes and was relieved to see the fire she felt mirrored there.
Robert began moving slowly, his gaze still locked on hers. The sensation was overwhelming. Kristen brought her legs up and locked them around his waist. He slid his hands down her ass and tilted her hips up slightly, the angle allowing him to go in even deeper.
“Oh god…Rob!”
Each smooth stroke sent her to heaven. The angle was delicious and she met each of his thrusts eagerly. He groaned as his pace increased, pumping into her faster. Kristen felt sparks of electricity just beneath her skin, like little firecrackers pushing to get out.
Robert’s eyes closed in agony and ecstasy. “Kristen…Oh god…Kristen!”
Skin slapped against skin as they moved faster and faster, still in perfect timing with each other. His hand found it was way between their bodies, and he rubbed her clit with his thumb.
“Ro-oob…” She moaned, falling over the edge. The firecrackers in her skin went off and she was shaking and quivering beneath him, her arms wrapped around him, her fingers struggling to find purchase on his sweaty back.
Her name was a chant in her ear, interspersed with moans, as Robert shuddered above her. He clutched her tightly as the spasms rolled through her body.
“Love you,” she whispered as she came down from her high.
He pushed her sweat soaked hair off her forehead and kissed her there. “Love you too,” he murmured. “God, you have no idea.”
He rolled off of her and she curled up into his side, his arms wrapped around her. Kristen felt content, peaceful and…happy. She could do this. She could face the thousands of screaming fangirls and the increasingly prying press. As long as she had Robert by her side, she could do it all.
-
He walked quickly down the hallway, her hand caught in his in a vise grip. She struggled to keep pace with his long legs.
“Rob,” she hissed. “What are you doing? They’re waiting for us. We have interviews to do.”
“We have thirty minutes. I checked,” he grinned down at her, not breaking his stride. “This is your fault, you know. If you hadn’t insisted we come down here separately then traffic would have been far less boring.”
“It would have too obvious if we insisted on taking a car down here on our own.”
He stopped abruptly in front of a door. “I think this will do,” he said, opening it.
She peeked in. “A supply closet? No fucking way.”
“Come on.” He kissed her. “I’ll make it worth your while,” he murmured against her lips, backing into the closet.
-
A week later Kristen received an email. Attached to it was the picture of herself and Rob that Rachelle had taken.
Hey Kristen!
I thought you might like this. You guys are cute together. I’ve deleted this off my camera and I’ll be deleting it off my hard drive as soon as this email is sent. Your secret is safe with me. :)
xoxxx
Rachelle