Distance, Part Twelve
Title: Distance, Part Twelve
Author: pinkdoom
Summary: Sometimes it takes a little distance to understand how precious what you have truly is
Rating NC-17 for this part
Word Count: 7,539
Disclaimer: Not mine!! All is property of Jim Butcher, this is for entertainment purposes only.
Warnings: h/c; sexual tension and frustration; wait...yep, it's there...smut! *grins*; corporeal Bob, no explanation
Beta'd by: edana_ni_emer and moonchildetoo
Previous parts: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Three and a Half by weslyn, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven
I don't remember drifting off to sleep, but I woke up warm and hugged tight against Bob. Bright morning sunlight slanted across the room, but Bob's bed was far from the windows so we were still in the shadows for the most part. My right arm felt like it was stuck full of needles and I flipped on my back and tried to shake it out, get some circulation going.
While I was doing that, I felt Bob shift beside me and then heard him say, "When did we fall asleep?"
"Not a clue, but apparently we both needed it." I stopped shaking my arm and shifted closer to him. "Was it good for you?"
He rolled his eyes skyward but there was a curl of his lip that wasn't disgust. "You're terrible."
"I know. You love it. Just admit it and be free of the guilt, Bob. I promise you'll feel ten times the man you are now."
Bob propped himself up on his arm and looked down slightly at me. "And just what kind of a man am I now?"
I looked up at him, struck by the slight flush his pale skin bore from sleep, the way his hair was mussed, the way he smelled like a combination of our bodies and a tinge of fabric softener. "The kind I need," I replied hoarsely, desperately wanting to show him how badly I did need him. Instead, I leaned in closer and pressed my face into his chest, just below his throat. His shirt was still unbuttoned, just like mine was, so the hollow of his throat was just one of many available spots for me to taste.
Lips pressed against the dip of his collarbone, I pushed on Bob with my body as hard as I dared, and he followed that movement until he was on his back. I didn't climb completely on top of him, because I had no real way to support myself without crying like a little girl, so I slung a leg over one of his to give me a bit of leverage instead. Bracing myself on my right arm, I leaned into him and got a soft groan in return.
Fingertips caressed my scalp as his little noises of pleasure egged me on, and I licked around his collarbone and then up, dragging my tongue along his neck. Bob craned his head back to give me more room, and I fully took advantage of that. Licks were followed by bites and then more licks, a few kisses, but I avoided his jugular. I wanted to set him off again, but a Bob-trigger right now would only lead to a more frustrated Bob and me in pain, so hence the avoidance.
Gentle hands pulled my face up so that we could look at each other, and then Bob said softly, "There's something I want to tell you, Harry."
I settled back down on the bed and took the hand he offered. "Go for it."
His fingers tangled in my hair as his eyes took on a distant look. "When I first became corporeal, do you know what the first clear sensation I felt was?" I shook my head, and he continued. "Your skin. Your hands holding up my head, your fingers brushing my cheek. The smell of you, the waves of nervousness, anxiety, and relief that were radiating off of your body. The pulse of your blood under my fingers as I held onto you filled me with a wanton burning for the life I'd just been handed. My second chance." His fingers trailed over my cheek, his thumb rubbing my bottom lip. "The first real sensation I felt, after the pain and utter...oddness of having a body again, was your skin, Harry. It surrounded me, held me, comforted me as much as your soft words did in those first few moments." He blinked and those green eyes refocused on my face. "I have never forgotten that, and I never will. I knew I was safe in your arms then, and I feel the same way now, even more so."
I swallowed thickly, blinking away tears. I didn't know what to say to that, so I just reached up and touched his face. His head bent and our lips met, but nothing more than a gentle brush of mouths. Jolts of little electric currents shocked my system, and everything in me screamed more. I shuddered against him and, with a lot of regret, drew back away from him. "We're in deep waters again, Bob."
"Mmm. You'd think we'd learn by now."
That made me laugh. "Us? Never. We're rebels." I paused, then said, "Horny, frustrated rebels that can't wait to jump each others bones, but still rebels."
Bob chuckled and drew himself and me up, saying, "Let's see to those bandages, yes?" I nodded and he got us sitting up, and then standing up, his strong hands guiding me. He stopped only to get us both clean shirts. We walked to the bathroom, my arm slung around Bob's neck for support in case my legs suddenly decided to give out on me, and once he had me seated on the closed toilet, shirt on the floor, Bob finally spoke again. "You took care of me, Harry, for months after I was given a body again. You never once swayed from what you deemed to be your duty to nurse me back to health and to adjust to a life in a corporeal body." He kissed my forehead and then dropped to his knees so that he could reach my chest easier. "So when I say don't argue with me when I'm trying to take care of you, I mean it. Let me do what I need to get you healthy."
I smirked. "You mean I'm not to follow your example of high-minded stubbornness in the face of pain? If I remember correctly, you refused my help so many times I memorized most of your protests."
"Yes, and then you shoved me onto the bed, none too gently, and told me that if I didn't behave and do what I was told, you'd tie me up and force me to listen to that awful clanging of guitars and drums you call music."
"It's called rock and roll, Bob. And it's not as bad as you make it out to be."
"But to my sensitive ears, it sounded terrible." He stroked the side of my face with the back of his hand. "Now, let me get some of these bandages off so the wounds can breathe a little."
I leaned back against the wall and let Bob have full access to my chest. As carefully as he could, Bob lifted the edge of the tape on one piece of gauze and peeled it off, then pulled off the gauze completely. It hurt, but I just bit the inside of my cheek and let him do what he needed to. The wound he revealed was already scabbed over. It didn't look nearly as bad as it had just a few days ago, and I was thankful for that. The bruise that took up almost the entire left side of my chest was turning green, yellow, and brown, which meant it was also healing. "So when do I get to take this cast off?" I asked Bob.
"I daresay in just a few minutes." I looked at him strangely, and he answered by laying his hand over my cast, closing his eyes, and muttering a few words of power. The cast dropped off, and I pulled back in surprise. That move should have hurt, but it didn't, and I knew why. Bob's magic thrummed through me, and while some of the bruises still remained, and certain wounds stayed bandaged and aching dully, and my ribs were injured still, Bob's magic gave me the use of my left arm again.
"Bob! You shouldn't have done that!" I yelped, eyes wide.
"I seem to remember telling you the same thing when you used your magic to rid my shirt of its buttons." He gave me a sly look. "Besides, I had some to spare, and while I couldn't have done that a few days ago, your healing time is exceptional and my anxiety has decreased tenfold." And then he looked sternly at me. "So don't argue with me and don't tell me that I shouldn't have done that. I did, it's done, end of discussion."
I ran my other hand over my left forearm, marveling at how there were no traces of my injury. Bob had healed that part of me completely, and I was more than grateful. "Thank you, Bob," I said before I showed him just how grateful I was by pulling his head down with my newly healed arm and kissing him deeply.
Bob responded eagerly, slipping between my legs, his arms wrapping around my neck. I slid my fingers into his hair and drew him as close to me as I could, relishing how his body and lips melted against mine. We were both making tiny moans and whispering against the other's lips, holding onto each other so tightly I wasn't completely sure we hadn't just melded onto each other.
Bob's lips left mine and traveled down my neck, nipping and licking every inch of skin he could get to as his hands slid down my arms and held me there. I felt an agonizingly sweet ache throb low in my body, and my cock pulsed when his abdomen pressed against it. My hands roamed down his sides and then down even further until I felt the belt on his pants. Bob's head jerked up and he hissed at me through his teeth.
I had several responses to the absolute rapture on his face, but the only one that seemed appropriate was to let my hand snake down just a little more until my palm rubbed over the quickly hardening cock hidden beneath his pants. Bob did a full-body jump, like someone had just scared the hell out of him, and he jerked away, breathing hard.
"Harry, I can't have you teasing me like that, because if we start...I don't think I'll be able to stop, and I won't hurt you. I refuse to let my passion for you interfere with your healing process." His body was quivering and his eyes were wild and dark, and I knew I'd gone too far.
I reached for him and he slowly came back to me as I said, "Hell's bells, Bob. Shit, I am such an id-"
Bob's fingers stopped my lips from forming the rest of that word, and he leaned in and kissed my cheek. "No, you're not. Don't say that. We're in a tough situation, Harry, and it's not going to be any easier until we both get what we want." He pulled back and smiled at me. "And we will get it, eventually." I watched him shake out his hands like he was trying to somehow get rid of the erection that was clearly starting to strain his pants, and I jerked my eyes up to his. I don't know whether he'd seen me look, but it's not like I could hide my erection, sitting back the way I was. "Now," he said in a slightly unsteady voice, "let me finish what I was doing and we'll go from there."
Bob set to my bandages, changing a few of them, removing the rest until I could see more scarring, scabbing, and bruising, all in varying states of healing, but all healing nonetheless. That was the important part. Lines of fatigue were etched onto Bob's face, and since he was so close to me, I could see just how exhausted he was. Our little nap hadn't been nearly enough sleep for him, and even as he tended to me with calm, even movements, the energy coming off of him was anything but calm or even. Worry, nervousness, relief, lust, love....these emotions cascaded off of him, and since we were in such close proximity, it was almost overwhelming to feel all that at once. I closed my eyes and tried to relax while Bob's gentle hands took care of me, but it was difficult when he was mere inches away and we had yet to "get what we want", as he had said.
I behaved myself, Bob behaved himself, and then we were standing just a foot apart from each other, me shirtless, him with his shirt hanging off his shoulders, and we both looked like horny, desperate men who wanted nothing more than to fuck each other into oblivion and pass out, sweaty, naked, and exhausted.
All that sounded great, but the fatigue I'd seen in his face had me nudging him toward the door. "Let's go back to bed," I said as I flipped off the bathroom light.
Bob gave me a confused look and said, "Harry, it's the middle of the morning."
"Yeah, and we both look like hell, so I think we should pull down the blinds and bury ourselves in bed until we decide to wake up." We reached the middle of the bedroom and I slid over to the windows and pulled down the blinds. The room was instantly encased in a warm darkness. Bob looked at me, his face a mixture of puzzlement and appreciation, and then he flicked a hand downstairs. All the blinds snapped down, making the rest of the apartment dark. The sound of Mister's protest at having his sunlight taken away was audible, but it made me chuckle. "Mister's not happy," I said.
"Furry beast," Bob grumbled. "Well, he can't complain much. He's been fed, and we'll probably wake up to find him hogging the blankets."
I shrugged and stepped back over to Bob, grinning. "Yeah, well, he's a cat. He owns us, we don't own him. That's the way he'll always be." I took Bob's hands in mine and pulled him to me, wrapping my arms around him and bringing him close. I rested my temple against his while one hand tangled in his hair. He responded by sighing contentedly and hugging me to him in return. We stood there for a while, holding each other, not talking, not moving.
Bob was right. Being like this felt safe, secure, and at the same time, so amazing. I was home, where I belonged. With him.
* * *
When I awoke, the first thing I noticed was that it was dark, warm, and I was buried under a mound of blankets. I blinked several times, yawned, stretched, then realized that I kept meeting resistance. When I looked down, I saw Bob's arm draped over my waist. And then I noticed how flush his body was against mine. His hips cradled my ass in a way that had me blowing out a frustrated breath, and I wriggled against him, wishing that the cloth barrier between us would just disappear. I mentally contemplated my repertoire of spells, looking for a clothing-dissolving one, and while I was trying to figure out a way to make a spell work, I felt Bob's hand clench, squeezing my thigh, and he shifted against me.
That move drove his hips into me even further, and I felt his groin press against the crack of my ass. Bob breathed on the back of my neck, and then a warm tongue flicked out and touched the shell of my ear. "Hell of a way to wake up," I murmured as I put my hand over his.
Bob's fingers laced through mine and he hugged me to him. "Who said I'm awake?" he breathed against my skin.
"You're awfully coherent for being asleep," I whispered back.
"I'm warm and I'm comfortable. The only way that I would be awake would be if I had to get out of this bed." He pressed a kiss to my neck and then those lips traveled down my neck and over my shoulder. He slid down my body as his mouth latched onto the bit of skin between my neck and my shoulder, one of his hands splayed on my chest. Blunt teeth scraped over that spot, and then his tongue replaced those. I groaned and pushed back against him. He rolled his hips in response and a little jolt of lust made my cock throb. I wanted to roll over and kiss him, but Bob hooked a leg over mine and trapped me.
"Not going to let me go?" I teased.
"Not so long as I have a choice," he growled in my ear.
He thrust his hips against me again, and as amazing as that felt, that move also sent a hot lance of pain up my spine. "Bob, hold up," I said. He instantly stilled and I pushed the blankets down, gingerly rolling onto my back.
Bob put a hand on my chest and I saw his face loom over me, concern evident. "We keep doing this, you notice."
I nodded and then said, "Yeah, I did. We keep digging ourselves into a hole and the only thing that brings us back out is my pain." I chuckled and said, "So I'm basically sacrificing my body for our sex drives."
Bob laughed at that, but while we were both chuckling, his hands started to run over my chest; light, airy touches that made me shiver. Bob noticed and yanked the blankets back up over us, making everything go soft and dark around the edges. He climbed over me, thighs clenched around mine, and placed feathery kisses over my face, neck, shoulders, and chest. It was like every kiss was an apology for the pain he thought he'd put me in.
I ran my hands over his shoulders, pushing down his unbuttoned shirt. Bob jerked his head up, smiled, and shrugged off his shirt. He flipped open the blanket only long enough to toss his shirt aside, then he closed the blanket back down around us. I thought he was going to keep kissing my chest, but he stretched himself over me and brought his mouth down upon mine. Our chests brushed, his mouth claimed mine, and I writhed under his touch. The feel of him, the smell of his skin, the taste of his lips covered me, and as badly as I wanted him, I found more comfort in these moments than I did arousal.
We'd come a long way in two weeks, and especially in these last few days. We'd yelled, screamed, cursed, thrown things at each other, but we'd also reconciled, forgiven, and most importantly, come to the realization that we weren't alone in our feelings, that we weren't crazy. We weren't going to screw things up or have to stay hidden in the shadows, afraid that our emotions would be the end of a decades-old relationship simply because we had done what sometimes happens to those who have known each other for a long time and remain in close proximity: we'd fallen in love.
And here I was, thinking on serious things while Bob's hands and lips roamed my body. He must have sensed something was amiss because his head came up, and despite his dark eyes and swollen lips, the look on his face was worried. "Harry?"
I traced his eyebrows with my thumbs and smiled at him. "I'm fine. I'm thinking serious things while you're driving me crazy with those lips and hands of yours, but other than that," and I kissed him again, "I'm fine."
"No pain?" he asked, the worry on his face not even dissipating in the slightest. I shook my head, and then he said, "You're lying."
"No I'm not."
"Yes, you are," he insisted. "I need to know when you're in pain, so that I can take care of you."
I made a circle in the air with my finger and said, "We seem to be stuck on this 'Harry in pain, Bob playing nursemaid' point that we've been circling around for the past couple of days."
"That's because that is how things will go until you are completely healthy." He smiled softly and I returned it with one of my own. He settled back down beside me, curled up against my body, and it didn't take long before I felt myself start to drift off again. But I did manage to say, "I'm going to make everything up to you, Bob. I promise."
I couldn't be certain, but I swore I'd heard him say, "I'll hold you to that," right before I drifted back into sleep.
* * *
We slept through the night and well into the next day, and we spent what was left of that day getting me moving around. Bob's idea of physical therapy was having me help him reorganize the office and correct the shoddy filing job I'd been doing over the past several months. So while he sat at the desk and wrote notes on the inside of the few active cases we had, I got the job of moving stacks of file folders around. When I complained to him that too much weight would probably hurt me, he responded by saying good naturedly, "It's good for you to get moving and restrengthen your body, Harry. So quit complaining and help me put some order into this godawful mess. I don't know why I trusted you with the filing to begin with."
I dumped a pile of folders onto the desk and muttered, "Slave driver."
"I heard that, dear boy." He stood and took the stack of folders I was holding and set them down on the desk beside the pile I'd just put there. "And those files go in the drawer, since they've already been put in order."
I saluted him and said, "Yes, sir," making sure I over-annunciated for added affect.
Bob smacked me lightly on the ass as he passed by me, and I whipped around, wanting to return the gesture, but he was already a few feet away, peering into the top drawer of the filing cabinet. I came up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist, burying my face in his neck. "I can't believe you smacked me on the ass, Bob."
"I've been wanting to do that for quite some time, darling." He turned around in my arms and kissed me briefly before pulling a file out of the drawer and gently dislodging himself from me, going back over to the desk and sitting down. "By the way, Lieutenant Murphy called while you were in the shower."
I spun around and looked at him, surprised. "She didn't want to talk to me?"
"No, if I recall correctly, she told me that she'd catch you another time because she was still angry with you for getting yourself in that accident and she didn't trust herself enough not to yell at you over the phone. She simply wanted to make sure that you were getting better, and she'd call when she, and I quote, 'wouldn't want to tell him he's a fucking moron for five minutes straight and then have him pull that beaten puppy-dog act on me and make me feel like shit for yelling at him.' "
I snorted. "Good old Murphy, always up for a little Harry-belittling."
"I should think that you can certainly understand where's she's coming from, Harry. She saw you right after I brought you home, and needless to say, she wasn't happy with your actions, but most importantly, she was very worried about you. Connie obviously cares enough about you to want to yell at you for your mistake, even if it's just displaced anxiety over what happened."
"Like I said, good old Murphy." I sighed. "I do need to talk to her. She deserves a lot more than that, but I need to apologize to her."
Bob cocked his head at me, and a slow upturn of his lips made me give him an inquiring look. "It's just that...you are quite a man, Harry Dresden."
And he said nothing else, going back to the file open in front of him. I wanted to say something but couldn't come up with anything, so I just started putting files back into order again. We worked through the late morning and into the afternoon, stopping only for a long lunch.
I think we lost track of time, besides being stunned at just how much stuff there was in the office, because when the clock in the office chimed, we both looked up. Six o'clock. Bob stretched in his chair and I could see the muscles in his arm bunch and uncoil again, since he rolled up his sleeves early on in the day. I stood from my chair, leaned back, and got a satisfying crack from my spine. It felt fantastic, and even though I was tired, stiff, and hungry, there was no doubt in my mind that a productive day. Even if we'd been crammed into the office, it had been good for me. And for Bob.
The reason I say it had been good for me was because while I was still sore, I was far better than I had been since the accident, and I was beyond the point of just being horny. I was desperate for him, and I couldn't take any more teasing touches or mind-blowing kisses. The only injury my cock had suffered had been a three-day-long on and off erection.
I wanted him to take my clothes off, run his hands over my body, and jerk me off while I jerked him off. I wasn't up to full-on sex yet, and like I'd decided earlier, when Bob and I did get completely physical, we were going to take it slow, make sure we did everything we wanted to.
I was going to wait until after dinner, but when Bob said, "I'm going to take a shower, Harry. I'll only be a little while," I saw one hell of an opportunity to get what I wanted. Bob went upstairs to shower, and I walked into the kitchen, waited a few minutes until I heard him walking around up there, and then went upstairs.
He'd shut the door but I highly doubted he'd locked it, so I waited, hand on the doorknob, until I didn't hear any more drawers being opened and shut again. I turned the knob as slowly as I could, and just as I cracked the door open, Bob turned the shower on and the shuuck of the shower curtain over the rod gave me my cue. I opened the door, pushed it shut as quietly as possible, and stripped. There were only a few candles lit in the bathroom, so if he saw my shadow, he must have thought nothing of it.
But when I yanked back the curtain and stepped in the shower, he certainly thought something of that. Dripping wet, naked, skin flushed a gentle pink from the spray, he whirled around and openly stared at me, his mouth agape just a little. I let my gaze roam over his body, seeing flesh I'd never been privy to before. Solid shoulders and arms lead down to a chest and waist that were defined, but not overwhelming, and fine white hair dusted a trail from the middle of his chest to his cock. How he kept in shape I had no idea, but a flicker of self-consciousness went through me at the sight of his body. The cut of his hips, those diagonal lines from his waist to his groin--lines that looked like they'd been made into places specifically for my fingers--made me lick my lips and let out a heavy breath. Going lower, my eyes rested unabashedly on his cock, a pale, heavy length that was starting to perk up at seeing me naked in the shower with him. I finished my visual perusal of him by having a quick fantasy about how those strong thighs would clench around me as I entered him for the first time.
He'd stood still while I'd been looking at him, and when I brought my eyes back up to his, I got a lazy, sexy smile in response. I said nothing as I crushed him against the shower wall and kissed him as deeply as I'd been wanting to all day. I made no pretense about how badly I wanted him as I rolled my hips against his, letting him feel my erection. He gave a full-body shudder as my body and my lips assaulted him, but when I reached a hand between us and grasped his semi-hard cock, he ripped his lips from mine and moaned my name.
I watched him respond to my hand on him like that; head thrown back, eyes half-hooded, lips red and parted, he looked like every erotic dream I'd ever had about him. But this time, I wasn't waking up to find myself alone in my bed. Instead, I had him in the shower, and I was jerking him off.
"Harry," he breathed as I twisted my hand on the down stroke. His hands grabbed my shoulders for support and I kept fisting his cock, but I ran my lips over his jaw as I did so.
"You have no idea how much I've wanted to do this," I growled in his ear as his hips started to jerk against mine. His cock had gone from half-staff to full mast in the matter of a minute, and I found myself getting turned on so quickly my head was spinning. We were actually doing this, together, in the shower. Definitely one of those "pinch me" moments.
"Oh, gods," he moaned as I ran my thumb over the head, smearing pre-come and making it easier to move my hand, and his fingers dug into my shoulders hard enough to create little canyons in my skin. "Harry, I love you."
His words made my hand falter and I lost my grip on his cock. Fumbling your lover's cock--not sexy. I jerked my head out of the curve of his neck, water dripping down my face, and found myself staring into bottomless black eyes that instantly sucked me in. "I love you, Harry," he repeated.
I cupped his face in my hands, made sure he was looking me dead in the eyes, and said in barely a whisper, "I love you, Bob, more than anything." I hugged him to me, my lips on his ear, and managed to say, "And I want so badly to make everything up to you."
He let out a low, dirty chuckle and said, "I think you're well on your way to doing so, my dear boy." He bumped his hips against mine. "And you've left me with an erection and a heady need for you to finish the job you started."
I nipped at his neck and grinned. "Yes, sir." In my anxiousness, I grabbed his cock a little more roughly than I intended and he jumped, hissing at me through gritted teeth. "Sorry," I said quickly.
"Don't apologize," and he put his hand over mine as I started to fist his cock again, "and don't stop, whatever you do."
I let him lead my hand over him a few times, getting to know what he liked and what he didn't. Best lesson he's ever given me. "Turn around," I growled at him. He looked like he might protest, but that moment passed quickly and he did as I asked, bracing himself against the shower wall with his forearms.
I reached around him, grabbed his cock, and then pressed my cock against the crack of his ass and rubbed against him. His head tipped back as his spine curved and he let out a moan that told me he was definitely enjoying himself. It took a lot of willpower not to just slide into that round, supple backside, but just hearing him groan and feel him respond to what I was doing to him was reward enough. Bob took in several shuddering breaths and started to jerk his hips along with the pull of my hand. I bent my head and started kissing his neck, running lips and tongue and teeth over every bit of skin I could get to while my other hand pinched one puckered, sensitive nipple.
A crescendo of his moans and my whispered words lead up to his body tensing, just at the brink, but when I said, "I love you, Bob, now let go," in his ear, his back arched one final time and he cried out my name. My hand was coated in warm stickiness as his body jerked forward like it was being tugged by some invisible line, and then he was smashed against me, limp and breathing hard. His head came back to rest on my shoulder and his hands grabbed mine, squeezing them as he slowly calmed his breathing.
"I never--never thought it'd be like that," Bob whispered in amazement when he was able to turn around. "Oh, Harry, I can't-"
I stopped his words with a soft kiss, my fingers going into his wet hair. "Don't," I said against his mouth. "Don't talk. Just kiss me."
Bob kissed me with more energy than he should have had, his tongue easily slipping into my mouth while his hands played with my nipples, returning the favor I'd paid him just minutes before. His fingers plucked and pulled and teased, and I was rubbing against him, grinding him into the shower wall.
One slick hand slid down my body, fingertips tracing patterns down my chest until he reached the patch of hair around my cock. I arched into his hand, trying to urge him on, but he just tangled his fingers in the hair and scraped blunt fingernails across the skin underneath. "Fuck," I said passionately, pushing against his body with mine. "Fuck, Bob."
A warm tongue caressed my neck and he pinched my left nipple fiercely, making me groan, then he quickly switched our positions and bent his head. He took that bit of skin in his mouth as his other hand left my sorely ignored cock and traveled around my waist. The palm of his hand settled on my ass and I made a noise of impatience. "Are you sure, Harry?"
"Yes, goddamit, Bob!" I banged the back of my head against the shower wall and gripped his hair roughly. The look on his face when I did that made my knees turn to Jell-o instantly and I had to slam a hand on the slippery wall in order to keep myself from falling on top of him. I saw darkness there, a primal, raw need for dominance and possession, the kind that goes both ways. Bob froze for a moment and I watched water drip down his face as he struggled to control the hunger that I'd apparently awakened. "Bob, please," I pleaded with him as I pressed back into the hand on my ass, wanting it to continue its journey.
When he finally looked back up at me, I saw that the darkness had receded a bit, but the need was still there. "I'll stop the instant you want me to," he said before reaching for the plastic bottle of body wash. My vision was starting to blur from the lack of blood to my brain, so I didn't quite see him slick his fingers, but I sure as hell felt them as they breached the crack of my ass and moved downward. His index finger brushed over my entrance and I shuddered violently, and without being told, spun around, pressed my chest into the wall as hard as my bruises and bumps allowed, and spread my legs for him.
One strong arm wrapped around my torso and pulled, making my ass stick out so he could get some leverage. I felt his finger press against me and my hips bucked in response, then that finger slid in, and in....and in. I howled in pleasure and begged for him, clawing at the slick shower wall. "Please, gods, Bob, please...Jesus-"
The scrape of teeth on the small of my back told me Bob had gotten down on his knees, and then those teeth bit down on the tender flesh of my ass as he crooked his finger and landed a direct hit on my prostate. Eyes nearly popping out of my head, I took a bunch of deep breaths and swallowed quite a bit of water, but I was incapable of making more than whimpering noises as that finger was joined by another. In and out, in and out...a hand traveled up my spine as he spread me with two fingers, and I bucked and thrashed, wanting more. I saw red when he bumped my prostate again, my entire body tightening in a desperate need for more.
The hand that had moved up my spine looped around my waist and then traced down my abdomen to my cock. In that tight fist, I found what I was wanting, and even though Bob was doing double duty on my body, it was his words, spoken in a beautifully broken and awed voice...that was my undoing.
"Come for me, Harry. I want to see your face when you come. I want to feel you let go."
My body shook before my back arched, my head was thrown back in the spray of the shower, and I let loose a sound that was a combination of a scream and a snarl, Bob's name clinging to my lips. Heat and tension spiraled up from my groin and shot across every part of me, and I felt nothing but that skin-scorching oh my god.
The first thing that registered once reality had settled back into place were Bob's hands on me, soothing and warm. They skimmed over my back and up, then gently turned me around and held me to him. My face was buried in his neck and I held onto him, not being able to resist flicking my tongue over his jugular vein to taste him. Bob murmured appreciatively and clutched at me, fingers digging into my shoulder blades. "All right, Harry?" he said against my ear.
"Fantastic," I said sleepily, letting myself slump against him.
Bob nudged me down and I sat on the tiny seat that was built into the far shower wall. "Stay. I'll get us both cleaned up." I leaned back and watched him pour shampoo into his hands, rub them together, and then he bent in front of me and dove his hands into my hair. Deft fingers scrubbed and massaged, my head moving with his hands.
"You are way too good at that," I said, smiling slightly.
A finger lifted my chin and he said bemusedly, "Close your eyes, Harry." I did as I was told and after a few moments I felt water hit my face. Bob had moved the shower head in my direction, and now his hands were rinsing my hair out for me. Soap slid over my skin in an almost ticklish way and I hoisted myself up, eyes still closed, and turned to the spray. Bob's hands let go only long enough to let me do that, and then they were back in my hair, Bob pressed up against me.
"How about you let me return the favor, huh?" I said in his ear once the last of the shampoo was rinsed out, nipping my way down his neck. I dumped some shampoo in my hands and rubbed them together eagerly
"I think I can handle that," he purred back, turning so he was facing me. He lifted his head and I met his lips while running my hands through his hair. Bob hummed deep in the back of his throat when my fingers rubbed his scalp and carded through his hair, spreading white suds.
"Feels pretty good, huh?"
"You're far too good at this," he murmured. I tipped his head back and he shut his eyes and let the water run down over him. I helped get rid of the shampoo, and then told him to stay put because he wasn't clean yet. Bob smirked at that but stayed where he was, head tipped back down to watch me.
I was temporarily entranced by the way water was beading on his skin, which drew my eyes down...and down and down, until I heard him chuckle. I jerked my eyes back up and reached for the body wash. I was using it in a different way on Bob than he had on me, but hey...all's fair in sex in the shower, right? Okay, mutual masturbation in the shower, whatever.
I dumped a generous amount of shower gel in my hand, added a little water, and created a hell of a lot of suds. "I'm shocked the hot water hasn't run out," I said as I ran my hands over his chest and scrubbed in a circular motion.
Bob swiped at the suds and flung them at my chest. "Well, it hasn't yet, so let's enjoy it while we can." The grin on his face was contagious, and we were grinning for the next few minutes while our hands exchanged gentle caresses and less than gentle gropes...like when Bob grabbed my ass and squeezed.
By the time we shut the water off and climbed out of the shower, we were clutching at each other and kissing and completely ignoring the fact that we were dripping all over the floor.
Bob gave me a hard shove and my back hit the countertop. My hands flew out behind me to catch myself and that motion sent bottles flying, the clatter echoing in the small room. I heard a low snarl and Bob say, "My beautiful, darling Harry," and then he was on me, hands everywhere, mouth firmly latched onto one of my nipples, hips thrusting frantically. His cock throbbed hotly against my hip and I thrust back, panting.
But as anxious as I was, my body was starting to ache again, so I said, "Bob, we need to slow down." I said it through gritted teeth and with a pained expression, but it was my tone that had Bob jerking his head up and blinking at me.
"Harry, gods, I'm so sorry. I seem to have a problem controlling myself around you." The hands that had been so possessive, so strong and warm and amazing just moments ago turned into hands that soothed and smoothed and grabbed a towel. Those same hands wrapped the towel around my waist so gingerly that his fingers only brushed the skin on my waist.
I waited until he'd wrapped a towel around his waist before snuggling into the embrace he openly offered to me. "You apologize one more time for supposedly hurting me, and I'll make sure you owe me later. When I'm totally healthy."
"Promise?" He arched an eyebrow at me and I snorted.
"Absolutely." I tugged at the towel around his waist and grinned mischievously. "I suppose we should behave, huh?"
"Afraid so." He said it with a sigh. "So, if we can't have sex, and we've already gotten off and showered, now what are we to do?"
I shrugged. "I was thinking food. Next best thing to sex."
He waited until I'd turned and started walking into the bedroom to smack my ass. I jumped and spun around, but he shied away from me, chuckling. "You're evil," I choked out, shocked at how him smacking me on the ass made my cock throb.
"Some might say that, but from what I can tell, you love it," he purred as he pulled clothes out from the bureau drawer.
"I do, do I?" I came up behind him and wrapped my arms around him. His skin was still damp and flushed from the heat of the shower and it felt fantastic against my bare skin. I rested my chin on his shoulder and watched him fuss with some of the clothes in the drawer. "Know what else I love?"
"I can't imagine," he said drolly, but he tipped his head back with a pleased little mewling noise as I placed feathery kisses over his neck and jaw, but when I nudged him with my hip and repeated my question, he smiled, a beautiful thing that lit up his face.
"You're gonna make me say it, aren't you?"
"Oh, yes," he breathed out.
"I love you."
He turned in my arms and ran his hands through my hair. "I will never grow tired of hearing that, my dear boy." He kissed my cheek, and then my forehead. "I love you," he sighed as my lips closed over his.
Hell of a thing, this, I thought as he kissed me gently. I couldn't imagine not having this, because just after a day of being in his arms, I was hooked. Just after a day of kissing him, I craved more. Just after a day of loving him and knowing he loved me, I was never going to let go.
Author: pinkdoom
Summary: Sometimes it takes a little distance to understand how precious what you have truly is
Rating NC-17 for this part
Word Count: 7,539
Disclaimer: Not mine!! All is property of Jim Butcher, this is for entertainment purposes only.
Warnings: h/c; sexual tension and frustration; wait...yep, it's there...smut! *grins*; corporeal Bob, no explanation
Beta'd by: edana_ni_emer and moonchildetoo
Previous parts: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Three and a Half by weslyn, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven
I don't remember drifting off to sleep, but I woke up warm and hugged tight against Bob. Bright morning sunlight slanted across the room, but Bob's bed was far from the windows so we were still in the shadows for the most part. My right arm felt like it was stuck full of needles and I flipped on my back and tried to shake it out, get some circulation going.
While I was doing that, I felt Bob shift beside me and then heard him say, "When did we fall asleep?"
"Not a clue, but apparently we both needed it." I stopped shaking my arm and shifted closer to him. "Was it good for you?"
He rolled his eyes skyward but there was a curl of his lip that wasn't disgust. "You're terrible."
"I know. You love it. Just admit it and be free of the guilt, Bob. I promise you'll feel ten times the man you are now."
Bob propped himself up on his arm and looked down slightly at me. "And just what kind of a man am I now?"
I looked up at him, struck by the slight flush his pale skin bore from sleep, the way his hair was mussed, the way he smelled like a combination of our bodies and a tinge of fabric softener. "The kind I need," I replied hoarsely, desperately wanting to show him how badly I did need him. Instead, I leaned in closer and pressed my face into his chest, just below his throat. His shirt was still unbuttoned, just like mine was, so the hollow of his throat was just one of many available spots for me to taste.
Lips pressed against the dip of his collarbone, I pushed on Bob with my body as hard as I dared, and he followed that movement until he was on his back. I didn't climb completely on top of him, because I had no real way to support myself without crying like a little girl, so I slung a leg over one of his to give me a bit of leverage instead. Bracing myself on my right arm, I leaned into him and got a soft groan in return.
Fingertips caressed my scalp as his little noises of pleasure egged me on, and I licked around his collarbone and then up, dragging my tongue along his neck. Bob craned his head back to give me more room, and I fully took advantage of that. Licks were followed by bites and then more licks, a few kisses, but I avoided his jugular. I wanted to set him off again, but a Bob-trigger right now would only lead to a more frustrated Bob and me in pain, so hence the avoidance.
Gentle hands pulled my face up so that we could look at each other, and then Bob said softly, "There's something I want to tell you, Harry."
I settled back down on the bed and took the hand he offered. "Go for it."
His fingers tangled in my hair as his eyes took on a distant look. "When I first became corporeal, do you know what the first clear sensation I felt was?" I shook my head, and he continued. "Your skin. Your hands holding up my head, your fingers brushing my cheek. The smell of you, the waves of nervousness, anxiety, and relief that were radiating off of your body. The pulse of your blood under my fingers as I held onto you filled me with a wanton burning for the life I'd just been handed. My second chance." His fingers trailed over my cheek, his thumb rubbing my bottom lip. "The first real sensation I felt, after the pain and utter...oddness of having a body again, was your skin, Harry. It surrounded me, held me, comforted me as much as your soft words did in those first few moments." He blinked and those green eyes refocused on my face. "I have never forgotten that, and I never will. I knew I was safe in your arms then, and I feel the same way now, even more so."
I swallowed thickly, blinking away tears. I didn't know what to say to that, so I just reached up and touched his face. His head bent and our lips met, but nothing more than a gentle brush of mouths. Jolts of little electric currents shocked my system, and everything in me screamed more. I shuddered against him and, with a lot of regret, drew back away from him. "We're in deep waters again, Bob."
"Mmm. You'd think we'd learn by now."
That made me laugh. "Us? Never. We're rebels." I paused, then said, "Horny, frustrated rebels that can't wait to jump each others bones, but still rebels."
Bob chuckled and drew himself and me up, saying, "Let's see to those bandages, yes?" I nodded and he got us sitting up, and then standing up, his strong hands guiding me. He stopped only to get us both clean shirts. We walked to the bathroom, my arm slung around Bob's neck for support in case my legs suddenly decided to give out on me, and once he had me seated on the closed toilet, shirt on the floor, Bob finally spoke again. "You took care of me, Harry, for months after I was given a body again. You never once swayed from what you deemed to be your duty to nurse me back to health and to adjust to a life in a corporeal body." He kissed my forehead and then dropped to his knees so that he could reach my chest easier. "So when I say don't argue with me when I'm trying to take care of you, I mean it. Let me do what I need to get you healthy."
I smirked. "You mean I'm not to follow your example of high-minded stubbornness in the face of pain? If I remember correctly, you refused my help so many times I memorized most of your protests."
"Yes, and then you shoved me onto the bed, none too gently, and told me that if I didn't behave and do what I was told, you'd tie me up and force me to listen to that awful clanging of guitars and drums you call music."
"It's called rock and roll, Bob. And it's not as bad as you make it out to be."
"But to my sensitive ears, it sounded terrible." He stroked the side of my face with the back of his hand. "Now, let me get some of these bandages off so the wounds can breathe a little."
I leaned back against the wall and let Bob have full access to my chest. As carefully as he could, Bob lifted the edge of the tape on one piece of gauze and peeled it off, then pulled off the gauze completely. It hurt, but I just bit the inside of my cheek and let him do what he needed to. The wound he revealed was already scabbed over. It didn't look nearly as bad as it had just a few days ago, and I was thankful for that. The bruise that took up almost the entire left side of my chest was turning green, yellow, and brown, which meant it was also healing. "So when do I get to take this cast off?" I asked Bob.
"I daresay in just a few minutes." I looked at him strangely, and he answered by laying his hand over my cast, closing his eyes, and muttering a few words of power. The cast dropped off, and I pulled back in surprise. That move should have hurt, but it didn't, and I knew why. Bob's magic thrummed through me, and while some of the bruises still remained, and certain wounds stayed bandaged and aching dully, and my ribs were injured still, Bob's magic gave me the use of my left arm again.
"Bob! You shouldn't have done that!" I yelped, eyes wide.
"I seem to remember telling you the same thing when you used your magic to rid my shirt of its buttons." He gave me a sly look. "Besides, I had some to spare, and while I couldn't have done that a few days ago, your healing time is exceptional and my anxiety has decreased tenfold." And then he looked sternly at me. "So don't argue with me and don't tell me that I shouldn't have done that. I did, it's done, end of discussion."
I ran my other hand over my left forearm, marveling at how there were no traces of my injury. Bob had healed that part of me completely, and I was more than grateful. "Thank you, Bob," I said before I showed him just how grateful I was by pulling his head down with my newly healed arm and kissing him deeply.
Bob responded eagerly, slipping between my legs, his arms wrapping around my neck. I slid my fingers into his hair and drew him as close to me as I could, relishing how his body and lips melted against mine. We were both making tiny moans and whispering against the other's lips, holding onto each other so tightly I wasn't completely sure we hadn't just melded onto each other.
Bob's lips left mine and traveled down my neck, nipping and licking every inch of skin he could get to as his hands slid down my arms and held me there. I felt an agonizingly sweet ache throb low in my body, and my cock pulsed when his abdomen pressed against it. My hands roamed down his sides and then down even further until I felt the belt on his pants. Bob's head jerked up and he hissed at me through his teeth.
I had several responses to the absolute rapture on his face, but the only one that seemed appropriate was to let my hand snake down just a little more until my palm rubbed over the quickly hardening cock hidden beneath his pants. Bob did a full-body jump, like someone had just scared the hell out of him, and he jerked away, breathing hard.
"Harry, I can't have you teasing me like that, because if we start...I don't think I'll be able to stop, and I won't hurt you. I refuse to let my passion for you interfere with your healing process." His body was quivering and his eyes were wild and dark, and I knew I'd gone too far.
I reached for him and he slowly came back to me as I said, "Hell's bells, Bob. Shit, I am such an id-"
Bob's fingers stopped my lips from forming the rest of that word, and he leaned in and kissed my cheek. "No, you're not. Don't say that. We're in a tough situation, Harry, and it's not going to be any easier until we both get what we want." He pulled back and smiled at me. "And we will get it, eventually." I watched him shake out his hands like he was trying to somehow get rid of the erection that was clearly starting to strain his pants, and I jerked my eyes up to his. I don't know whether he'd seen me look, but it's not like I could hide my erection, sitting back the way I was. "Now," he said in a slightly unsteady voice, "let me finish what I was doing and we'll go from there."
Bob set to my bandages, changing a few of them, removing the rest until I could see more scarring, scabbing, and bruising, all in varying states of healing, but all healing nonetheless. That was the important part. Lines of fatigue were etched onto Bob's face, and since he was so close to me, I could see just how exhausted he was. Our little nap hadn't been nearly enough sleep for him, and even as he tended to me with calm, even movements, the energy coming off of him was anything but calm or even. Worry, nervousness, relief, lust, love....these emotions cascaded off of him, and since we were in such close proximity, it was almost overwhelming to feel all that at once. I closed my eyes and tried to relax while Bob's gentle hands took care of me, but it was difficult when he was mere inches away and we had yet to "get what we want", as he had said.
I behaved myself, Bob behaved himself, and then we were standing just a foot apart from each other, me shirtless, him with his shirt hanging off his shoulders, and we both looked like horny, desperate men who wanted nothing more than to fuck each other into oblivion and pass out, sweaty, naked, and exhausted.
All that sounded great, but the fatigue I'd seen in his face had me nudging him toward the door. "Let's go back to bed," I said as I flipped off the bathroom light.
Bob gave me a confused look and said, "Harry, it's the middle of the morning."
"Yeah, and we both look like hell, so I think we should pull down the blinds and bury ourselves in bed until we decide to wake up." We reached the middle of the bedroom and I slid over to the windows and pulled down the blinds. The room was instantly encased in a warm darkness. Bob looked at me, his face a mixture of puzzlement and appreciation, and then he flicked a hand downstairs. All the blinds snapped down, making the rest of the apartment dark. The sound of Mister's protest at having his sunlight taken away was audible, but it made me chuckle. "Mister's not happy," I said.
"Furry beast," Bob grumbled. "Well, he can't complain much. He's been fed, and we'll probably wake up to find him hogging the blankets."
I shrugged and stepped back over to Bob, grinning. "Yeah, well, he's a cat. He owns us, we don't own him. That's the way he'll always be." I took Bob's hands in mine and pulled him to me, wrapping my arms around him and bringing him close. I rested my temple against his while one hand tangled in his hair. He responded by sighing contentedly and hugging me to him in return. We stood there for a while, holding each other, not talking, not moving.
Bob was right. Being like this felt safe, secure, and at the same time, so amazing. I was home, where I belonged. With him.
* * *
When I awoke, the first thing I noticed was that it was dark, warm, and I was buried under a mound of blankets. I blinked several times, yawned, stretched, then realized that I kept meeting resistance. When I looked down, I saw Bob's arm draped over my waist. And then I noticed how flush his body was against mine. His hips cradled my ass in a way that had me blowing out a frustrated breath, and I wriggled against him, wishing that the cloth barrier between us would just disappear. I mentally contemplated my repertoire of spells, looking for a clothing-dissolving one, and while I was trying to figure out a way to make a spell work, I felt Bob's hand clench, squeezing my thigh, and he shifted against me.
That move drove his hips into me even further, and I felt his groin press against the crack of my ass. Bob breathed on the back of my neck, and then a warm tongue flicked out and touched the shell of my ear. "Hell of a way to wake up," I murmured as I put my hand over his.
Bob's fingers laced through mine and he hugged me to him. "Who said I'm awake?" he breathed against my skin.
"You're awfully coherent for being asleep," I whispered back.
"I'm warm and I'm comfortable. The only way that I would be awake would be if I had to get out of this bed." He pressed a kiss to my neck and then those lips traveled down my neck and over my shoulder. He slid down my body as his mouth latched onto the bit of skin between my neck and my shoulder, one of his hands splayed on my chest. Blunt teeth scraped over that spot, and then his tongue replaced those. I groaned and pushed back against him. He rolled his hips in response and a little jolt of lust made my cock throb. I wanted to roll over and kiss him, but Bob hooked a leg over mine and trapped me.
"Not going to let me go?" I teased.
"Not so long as I have a choice," he growled in my ear.
He thrust his hips against me again, and as amazing as that felt, that move also sent a hot lance of pain up my spine. "Bob, hold up," I said. He instantly stilled and I pushed the blankets down, gingerly rolling onto my back.
Bob put a hand on my chest and I saw his face loom over me, concern evident. "We keep doing this, you notice."
I nodded and then said, "Yeah, I did. We keep digging ourselves into a hole and the only thing that brings us back out is my pain." I chuckled and said, "So I'm basically sacrificing my body for our sex drives."
Bob laughed at that, but while we were both chuckling, his hands started to run over my chest; light, airy touches that made me shiver. Bob noticed and yanked the blankets back up over us, making everything go soft and dark around the edges. He climbed over me, thighs clenched around mine, and placed feathery kisses over my face, neck, shoulders, and chest. It was like every kiss was an apology for the pain he thought he'd put me in.
I ran my hands over his shoulders, pushing down his unbuttoned shirt. Bob jerked his head up, smiled, and shrugged off his shirt. He flipped open the blanket only long enough to toss his shirt aside, then he closed the blanket back down around us. I thought he was going to keep kissing my chest, but he stretched himself over me and brought his mouth down upon mine. Our chests brushed, his mouth claimed mine, and I writhed under his touch. The feel of him, the smell of his skin, the taste of his lips covered me, and as badly as I wanted him, I found more comfort in these moments than I did arousal.
We'd come a long way in two weeks, and especially in these last few days. We'd yelled, screamed, cursed, thrown things at each other, but we'd also reconciled, forgiven, and most importantly, come to the realization that we weren't alone in our feelings, that we weren't crazy. We weren't going to screw things up or have to stay hidden in the shadows, afraid that our emotions would be the end of a decades-old relationship simply because we had done what sometimes happens to those who have known each other for a long time and remain in close proximity: we'd fallen in love.
And here I was, thinking on serious things while Bob's hands and lips roamed my body. He must have sensed something was amiss because his head came up, and despite his dark eyes and swollen lips, the look on his face was worried. "Harry?"
I traced his eyebrows with my thumbs and smiled at him. "I'm fine. I'm thinking serious things while you're driving me crazy with those lips and hands of yours, but other than that," and I kissed him again, "I'm fine."
"No pain?" he asked, the worry on his face not even dissipating in the slightest. I shook my head, and then he said, "You're lying."
"No I'm not."
"Yes, you are," he insisted. "I need to know when you're in pain, so that I can take care of you."
I made a circle in the air with my finger and said, "We seem to be stuck on this 'Harry in pain, Bob playing nursemaid' point that we've been circling around for the past couple of days."
"That's because that is how things will go until you are completely healthy." He smiled softly and I returned it with one of my own. He settled back down beside me, curled up against my body, and it didn't take long before I felt myself start to drift off again. But I did manage to say, "I'm going to make everything up to you, Bob. I promise."
I couldn't be certain, but I swore I'd heard him say, "I'll hold you to that," right before I drifted back into sleep.
* * *
We slept through the night and well into the next day, and we spent what was left of that day getting me moving around. Bob's idea of physical therapy was having me help him reorganize the office and correct the shoddy filing job I'd been doing over the past several months. So while he sat at the desk and wrote notes on the inside of the few active cases we had, I got the job of moving stacks of file folders around. When I complained to him that too much weight would probably hurt me, he responded by saying good naturedly, "It's good for you to get moving and restrengthen your body, Harry. So quit complaining and help me put some order into this godawful mess. I don't know why I trusted you with the filing to begin with."
I dumped a pile of folders onto the desk and muttered, "Slave driver."
"I heard that, dear boy." He stood and took the stack of folders I was holding and set them down on the desk beside the pile I'd just put there. "And those files go in the drawer, since they've already been put in order."
I saluted him and said, "Yes, sir," making sure I over-annunciated for added affect.
Bob smacked me lightly on the ass as he passed by me, and I whipped around, wanting to return the gesture, but he was already a few feet away, peering into the top drawer of the filing cabinet. I came up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist, burying my face in his neck. "I can't believe you smacked me on the ass, Bob."
"I've been wanting to do that for quite some time, darling." He turned around in my arms and kissed me briefly before pulling a file out of the drawer and gently dislodging himself from me, going back over to the desk and sitting down. "By the way, Lieutenant Murphy called while you were in the shower."
I spun around and looked at him, surprised. "She didn't want to talk to me?"
"No, if I recall correctly, she told me that she'd catch you another time because she was still angry with you for getting yourself in that accident and she didn't trust herself enough not to yell at you over the phone. She simply wanted to make sure that you were getting better, and she'd call when she, and I quote, 'wouldn't want to tell him he's a fucking moron for five minutes straight and then have him pull that beaten puppy-dog act on me and make me feel like shit for yelling at him.' "
I snorted. "Good old Murphy, always up for a little Harry-belittling."
"I should think that you can certainly understand where's she's coming from, Harry. She saw you right after I brought you home, and needless to say, she wasn't happy with your actions, but most importantly, she was very worried about you. Connie obviously cares enough about you to want to yell at you for your mistake, even if it's just displaced anxiety over what happened."
"Like I said, good old Murphy." I sighed. "I do need to talk to her. She deserves a lot more than that, but I need to apologize to her."
Bob cocked his head at me, and a slow upturn of his lips made me give him an inquiring look. "It's just that...you are quite a man, Harry Dresden."
And he said nothing else, going back to the file open in front of him. I wanted to say something but couldn't come up with anything, so I just started putting files back into order again. We worked through the late morning and into the afternoon, stopping only for a long lunch.
I think we lost track of time, besides being stunned at just how much stuff there was in the office, because when the clock in the office chimed, we both looked up. Six o'clock. Bob stretched in his chair and I could see the muscles in his arm bunch and uncoil again, since he rolled up his sleeves early on in the day. I stood from my chair, leaned back, and got a satisfying crack from my spine. It felt fantastic, and even though I was tired, stiff, and hungry, there was no doubt in my mind that a productive day. Even if we'd been crammed into the office, it had been good for me. And for Bob.
The reason I say it had been good for me was because while I was still sore, I was far better than I had been since the accident, and I was beyond the point of just being horny. I was desperate for him, and I couldn't take any more teasing touches or mind-blowing kisses. The only injury my cock had suffered had been a three-day-long on and off erection.
I wanted him to take my clothes off, run his hands over my body, and jerk me off while I jerked him off. I wasn't up to full-on sex yet, and like I'd decided earlier, when Bob and I did get completely physical, we were going to take it slow, make sure we did everything we wanted to.
I was going to wait until after dinner, but when Bob said, "I'm going to take a shower, Harry. I'll only be a little while," I saw one hell of an opportunity to get what I wanted. Bob went upstairs to shower, and I walked into the kitchen, waited a few minutes until I heard him walking around up there, and then went upstairs.
He'd shut the door but I highly doubted he'd locked it, so I waited, hand on the doorknob, until I didn't hear any more drawers being opened and shut again. I turned the knob as slowly as I could, and just as I cracked the door open, Bob turned the shower on and the shuuck of the shower curtain over the rod gave me my cue. I opened the door, pushed it shut as quietly as possible, and stripped. There were only a few candles lit in the bathroom, so if he saw my shadow, he must have thought nothing of it.
But when I yanked back the curtain and stepped in the shower, he certainly thought something of that. Dripping wet, naked, skin flushed a gentle pink from the spray, he whirled around and openly stared at me, his mouth agape just a little. I let my gaze roam over his body, seeing flesh I'd never been privy to before. Solid shoulders and arms lead down to a chest and waist that were defined, but not overwhelming, and fine white hair dusted a trail from the middle of his chest to his cock. How he kept in shape I had no idea, but a flicker of self-consciousness went through me at the sight of his body. The cut of his hips, those diagonal lines from his waist to his groin--lines that looked like they'd been made into places specifically for my fingers--made me lick my lips and let out a heavy breath. Going lower, my eyes rested unabashedly on his cock, a pale, heavy length that was starting to perk up at seeing me naked in the shower with him. I finished my visual perusal of him by having a quick fantasy about how those strong thighs would clench around me as I entered him for the first time.
He'd stood still while I'd been looking at him, and when I brought my eyes back up to his, I got a lazy, sexy smile in response. I said nothing as I crushed him against the shower wall and kissed him as deeply as I'd been wanting to all day. I made no pretense about how badly I wanted him as I rolled my hips against his, letting him feel my erection. He gave a full-body shudder as my body and my lips assaulted him, but when I reached a hand between us and grasped his semi-hard cock, he ripped his lips from mine and moaned my name.
I watched him respond to my hand on him like that; head thrown back, eyes half-hooded, lips red and parted, he looked like every erotic dream I'd ever had about him. But this time, I wasn't waking up to find myself alone in my bed. Instead, I had him in the shower, and I was jerking him off.
"Harry," he breathed as I twisted my hand on the down stroke. His hands grabbed my shoulders for support and I kept fisting his cock, but I ran my lips over his jaw as I did so.
"You have no idea how much I've wanted to do this," I growled in his ear as his hips started to jerk against mine. His cock had gone from half-staff to full mast in the matter of a minute, and I found myself getting turned on so quickly my head was spinning. We were actually doing this, together, in the shower. Definitely one of those "pinch me" moments.
"Oh, gods," he moaned as I ran my thumb over the head, smearing pre-come and making it easier to move my hand, and his fingers dug into my shoulders hard enough to create little canyons in my skin. "Harry, I love you."
His words made my hand falter and I lost my grip on his cock. Fumbling your lover's cock--not sexy. I jerked my head out of the curve of his neck, water dripping down my face, and found myself staring into bottomless black eyes that instantly sucked me in. "I love you, Harry," he repeated.
I cupped his face in my hands, made sure he was looking me dead in the eyes, and said in barely a whisper, "I love you, Bob, more than anything." I hugged him to me, my lips on his ear, and managed to say, "And I want so badly to make everything up to you."
He let out a low, dirty chuckle and said, "I think you're well on your way to doing so, my dear boy." He bumped his hips against mine. "And you've left me with an erection and a heady need for you to finish the job you started."
I nipped at his neck and grinned. "Yes, sir." In my anxiousness, I grabbed his cock a little more roughly than I intended and he jumped, hissing at me through gritted teeth. "Sorry," I said quickly.
"Don't apologize," and he put his hand over mine as I started to fist his cock again, "and don't stop, whatever you do."
I let him lead my hand over him a few times, getting to know what he liked and what he didn't. Best lesson he's ever given me. "Turn around," I growled at him. He looked like he might protest, but that moment passed quickly and he did as I asked, bracing himself against the shower wall with his forearms.
I reached around him, grabbed his cock, and then pressed my cock against the crack of his ass and rubbed against him. His head tipped back as his spine curved and he let out a moan that told me he was definitely enjoying himself. It took a lot of willpower not to just slide into that round, supple backside, but just hearing him groan and feel him respond to what I was doing to him was reward enough. Bob took in several shuddering breaths and started to jerk his hips along with the pull of my hand. I bent my head and started kissing his neck, running lips and tongue and teeth over every bit of skin I could get to while my other hand pinched one puckered, sensitive nipple.
A crescendo of his moans and my whispered words lead up to his body tensing, just at the brink, but when I said, "I love you, Bob, now let go," in his ear, his back arched one final time and he cried out my name. My hand was coated in warm stickiness as his body jerked forward like it was being tugged by some invisible line, and then he was smashed against me, limp and breathing hard. His head came back to rest on my shoulder and his hands grabbed mine, squeezing them as he slowly calmed his breathing.
"I never--never thought it'd be like that," Bob whispered in amazement when he was able to turn around. "Oh, Harry, I can't-"
I stopped his words with a soft kiss, my fingers going into his wet hair. "Don't," I said against his mouth. "Don't talk. Just kiss me."
Bob kissed me with more energy than he should have had, his tongue easily slipping into my mouth while his hands played with my nipples, returning the favor I'd paid him just minutes before. His fingers plucked and pulled and teased, and I was rubbing against him, grinding him into the shower wall.
One slick hand slid down my body, fingertips tracing patterns down my chest until he reached the patch of hair around my cock. I arched into his hand, trying to urge him on, but he just tangled his fingers in the hair and scraped blunt fingernails across the skin underneath. "Fuck," I said passionately, pushing against his body with mine. "Fuck, Bob."
A warm tongue caressed my neck and he pinched my left nipple fiercely, making me groan, then he quickly switched our positions and bent his head. He took that bit of skin in his mouth as his other hand left my sorely ignored cock and traveled around my waist. The palm of his hand settled on my ass and I made a noise of impatience. "Are you sure, Harry?"
"Yes, goddamit, Bob!" I banged the back of my head against the shower wall and gripped his hair roughly. The look on his face when I did that made my knees turn to Jell-o instantly and I had to slam a hand on the slippery wall in order to keep myself from falling on top of him. I saw darkness there, a primal, raw need for dominance and possession, the kind that goes both ways. Bob froze for a moment and I watched water drip down his face as he struggled to control the hunger that I'd apparently awakened. "Bob, please," I pleaded with him as I pressed back into the hand on my ass, wanting it to continue its journey.
When he finally looked back up at me, I saw that the darkness had receded a bit, but the need was still there. "I'll stop the instant you want me to," he said before reaching for the plastic bottle of body wash. My vision was starting to blur from the lack of blood to my brain, so I didn't quite see him slick his fingers, but I sure as hell felt them as they breached the crack of my ass and moved downward. His index finger brushed over my entrance and I shuddered violently, and without being told, spun around, pressed my chest into the wall as hard as my bruises and bumps allowed, and spread my legs for him.
One strong arm wrapped around my torso and pulled, making my ass stick out so he could get some leverage. I felt his finger press against me and my hips bucked in response, then that finger slid in, and in....and in. I howled in pleasure and begged for him, clawing at the slick shower wall. "Please, gods, Bob, please...Jesus-"
The scrape of teeth on the small of my back told me Bob had gotten down on his knees, and then those teeth bit down on the tender flesh of my ass as he crooked his finger and landed a direct hit on my prostate. Eyes nearly popping out of my head, I took a bunch of deep breaths and swallowed quite a bit of water, but I was incapable of making more than whimpering noises as that finger was joined by another. In and out, in and out...a hand traveled up my spine as he spread me with two fingers, and I bucked and thrashed, wanting more. I saw red when he bumped my prostate again, my entire body tightening in a desperate need for more.
The hand that had moved up my spine looped around my waist and then traced down my abdomen to my cock. In that tight fist, I found what I was wanting, and even though Bob was doing double duty on my body, it was his words, spoken in a beautifully broken and awed voice...that was my undoing.
"Come for me, Harry. I want to see your face when you come. I want to feel you let go."
My body shook before my back arched, my head was thrown back in the spray of the shower, and I let loose a sound that was a combination of a scream and a snarl, Bob's name clinging to my lips. Heat and tension spiraled up from my groin and shot across every part of me, and I felt nothing but that skin-scorching oh my god.
The first thing that registered once reality had settled back into place were Bob's hands on me, soothing and warm. They skimmed over my back and up, then gently turned me around and held me to him. My face was buried in his neck and I held onto him, not being able to resist flicking my tongue over his jugular vein to taste him. Bob murmured appreciatively and clutched at me, fingers digging into my shoulder blades. "All right, Harry?" he said against my ear.
"Fantastic," I said sleepily, letting myself slump against him.
Bob nudged me down and I sat on the tiny seat that was built into the far shower wall. "Stay. I'll get us both cleaned up." I leaned back and watched him pour shampoo into his hands, rub them together, and then he bent in front of me and dove his hands into my hair. Deft fingers scrubbed and massaged, my head moving with his hands.
"You are way too good at that," I said, smiling slightly.
A finger lifted my chin and he said bemusedly, "Close your eyes, Harry." I did as I was told and after a few moments I felt water hit my face. Bob had moved the shower head in my direction, and now his hands were rinsing my hair out for me. Soap slid over my skin in an almost ticklish way and I hoisted myself up, eyes still closed, and turned to the spray. Bob's hands let go only long enough to let me do that, and then they were back in my hair, Bob pressed up against me.
"How about you let me return the favor, huh?" I said in his ear once the last of the shampoo was rinsed out, nipping my way down his neck. I dumped some shampoo in my hands and rubbed them together eagerly
"I think I can handle that," he purred back, turning so he was facing me. He lifted his head and I met his lips while running my hands through his hair. Bob hummed deep in the back of his throat when my fingers rubbed his scalp and carded through his hair, spreading white suds.
"Feels pretty good, huh?"
"You're far too good at this," he murmured. I tipped his head back and he shut his eyes and let the water run down over him. I helped get rid of the shampoo, and then told him to stay put because he wasn't clean yet. Bob smirked at that but stayed where he was, head tipped back down to watch me.
I was temporarily entranced by the way water was beading on his skin, which drew my eyes down...and down and down, until I heard him chuckle. I jerked my eyes back up and reached for the body wash. I was using it in a different way on Bob than he had on me, but hey...all's fair in sex in the shower, right? Okay, mutual masturbation in the shower, whatever.
I dumped a generous amount of shower gel in my hand, added a little water, and created a hell of a lot of suds. "I'm shocked the hot water hasn't run out," I said as I ran my hands over his chest and scrubbed in a circular motion.
Bob swiped at the suds and flung them at my chest. "Well, it hasn't yet, so let's enjoy it while we can." The grin on his face was contagious, and we were grinning for the next few minutes while our hands exchanged gentle caresses and less than gentle gropes...like when Bob grabbed my ass and squeezed.
By the time we shut the water off and climbed out of the shower, we were clutching at each other and kissing and completely ignoring the fact that we were dripping all over the floor.
Bob gave me a hard shove and my back hit the countertop. My hands flew out behind me to catch myself and that motion sent bottles flying, the clatter echoing in the small room. I heard a low snarl and Bob say, "My beautiful, darling Harry," and then he was on me, hands everywhere, mouth firmly latched onto one of my nipples, hips thrusting frantically. His cock throbbed hotly against my hip and I thrust back, panting.
But as anxious as I was, my body was starting to ache again, so I said, "Bob, we need to slow down." I said it through gritted teeth and with a pained expression, but it was my tone that had Bob jerking his head up and blinking at me.
"Harry, gods, I'm so sorry. I seem to have a problem controlling myself around you." The hands that had been so possessive, so strong and warm and amazing just moments ago turned into hands that soothed and smoothed and grabbed a towel. Those same hands wrapped the towel around my waist so gingerly that his fingers only brushed the skin on my waist.
I waited until he'd wrapped a towel around his waist before snuggling into the embrace he openly offered to me. "You apologize one more time for supposedly hurting me, and I'll make sure you owe me later. When I'm totally healthy."
"Promise?" He arched an eyebrow at me and I snorted.
"Absolutely." I tugged at the towel around his waist and grinned mischievously. "I suppose we should behave, huh?"
"Afraid so." He said it with a sigh. "So, if we can't have sex, and we've already gotten off and showered, now what are we to do?"
I shrugged. "I was thinking food. Next best thing to sex."
He waited until I'd turned and started walking into the bedroom to smack my ass. I jumped and spun around, but he shied away from me, chuckling. "You're evil," I choked out, shocked at how him smacking me on the ass made my cock throb.
"Some might say that, but from what I can tell, you love it," he purred as he pulled clothes out from the bureau drawer.
"I do, do I?" I came up behind him and wrapped my arms around him. His skin was still damp and flushed from the heat of the shower and it felt fantastic against my bare skin. I rested my chin on his shoulder and watched him fuss with some of the clothes in the drawer. "Know what else I love?"
"I can't imagine," he said drolly, but he tipped his head back with a pleased little mewling noise as I placed feathery kisses over his neck and jaw, but when I nudged him with my hip and repeated my question, he smiled, a beautiful thing that lit up his face.
"You're gonna make me say it, aren't you?"
"Oh, yes," he breathed out.
"I love you."
He turned in my arms and ran his hands through my hair. "I will never grow tired of hearing that, my dear boy." He kissed my cheek, and then my forehead. "I love you," he sighed as my lips closed over his.
Hell of a thing, this, I thought as he kissed me gently. I couldn't imagine not having this, because just after a day of being in his arms, I was hooked. Just after a day of kissing him, I craved more. Just after a day of loving him and knowing he loved me, I was never going to let go.