LJ Idol Season 9, Week 19: Kindling
You don’t even have the chance to go upstairs and change out of your work uniform before he sneaks up behind you and pulls you close to him, his lips gracing the edge of your neck. You try to stifle the gasp that escapes you; it’s two in the morning, after all, and everyone else is asleep. Within seconds, the two of you are in his room, him pushing you down onto the bed, his body flush against yours. Words are exchanged and moans escape your lips as hands roam over bodies before slipping under clothes.
You focus on the feel of his stubble against your skin, his lips against yours, his hand between your legs -- nothing else. Some time ago, you had decided that tonight, you’d let him take you. Therefore, this moment needs to last, needs to be right, and --
There’s a pause, and he pulls away from you, his fingers stopping in their teasing. He cups your cheek with his other hand, gently forcing you to meet his eyes.
“You know I’m still leaving, right?” he whispers, sadness creeping into his voice. His thumb brushes your cheek, and you can’t help feeling a weight settle on top of your lungs, robbing you of your voice -- if only for a moment.
“Yeah,” you whisper back. Your eyes sting, and your lip gets caught between your teeth. He’s moving. To Seattle. It’s what made you start this unorthodox relationship once again in the first place, and yet -- “You just had to remind me, didn’t you?”
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he says, his lips twitching in a facsimile of a smile. “Are you sure you still want to...” He trails off, and his hand moves from between your legs.
“Have sex?” you finish for him, a shaky smile forcing itself across your lips. It doesn’t last as he nods. You look away from him and direct your eyes towards the ceiling. You’ve only had one sexual partner in your entire twenty-six years, but --
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he adds, settling onto his bed beside you. And the absence of his weight on top of you only makes you focus on how you’ll be without him, entirely, in just another two weeks.
“I -- yeah, it’s probably better if -- if we don’t,” you manage, despite the words wanting to stick to the insides of your throat. You turn onto your side and drape an arm around him, resting your head on his shoulder. As you nuzzle against him, a wave of exhaustion hits, reminding you that you haven’t had much sleep in the past few days. “Is it -- is it alright if I go upstairs and go to bed?” you ask after a few moments of silence.
He smiles at you before leaning forward and pressing a light kiss against your forehead. “Go get some sleep, Alicia,” he says.
And you nod, not knowing what else to say but “Good night, Joe,” as you slip out of his bed and head to your room.
***
“You know, I’ve been thinking about it, and I’m glad we didn’t have sex yesterday,” he says as he settles onto your bed. You instinctively move closer to him, resting your head against his shoulder and closing your eyes.
“Heh.” You glance up at him and resist the urge to pull him in for a kiss, and instead offer him a sleepy smile. “That’s -- kind of funny, actually,” you say, brushing your loose hair out of your eyes. “Because I was kind of thinking the opposite?”
“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow and turns to you, and you rest your head against your pillow, waiting for him to continue. “Don’t get me wrong, I want to, but -- I don’t want you to do anything you’d later regret. Or for you to get hurt.”
“I know,” you whisper. You ignore the sudden wave of self-consciousness as it washes over you, and instead continue to hold his gaze. “It’s just --” The words fail you, despite how they had tumbled around over and over again in your mind all morning. “I think I’d --” you thread your fingers with his, and a blush warms your cheeks as your lips continue to move, “-- I’d regret it more, if we didn’t.”
His brow bunches together as your words sink in. “Really?” he asks, and then a grin sweeps across his face. “Well, then again, how could you not? I mean, look at me. I’m hot.”
You snort and roll your eyes, trying to hide your own laughter with a small shake of your head. “Shut up,” you grumble, putting a light hand over his mouth. “Just -- stop talking.”
“No,” he says with a quiet chuckle, gently moving your hand away from him. His playful smile becomes subdued, and a more serious expression takes its place. “You really don’t think you’re gonna get hurt, if we do?” he asks.
“It’s not that I won’t get hurt, it’s just...” I love you, your finish inside your head. You blink at the thought, then shake it away. “It’s going to suck, either way, you know?” you say instead, ignoring the sudden stinging in the corners of your eyes. “I don’t want you to leave -- and I know that having sex with you isn’t going to make you stay, but -- I still want to. And I really think I’d regret it if we didn’t.”
He nods, a much smaller smile playing on his lips as he speaks. “Well, don’t go thinking that we’re gonna ohmygod do it right now, because I’m not in the mood,” he says, leaning forward and brushing his lips against yours. “But I’m glad we talked about it.”
***
“I thought you said you weren’t in the mood?” you find yourself asking as he pulls you down on top of him on his bed, not even twenty minutes later. His hands are already underneath your shirt, and you try not to think about how Evelyn used to do the same thing to you.
“Changed my mind,” he murmurs, cupping your breasts. A disconcerting jolt runs through you, and you push his hands away and shake your head. He gives you a confused look.
“Reminds me too much of Ev,” you say with a wince. He takes the remark in stride, letting you roll off of him once the explanation is given. He’s on top of you in less than a second, his fingers burying themselves in your hair as lips and tongues resume their previous actions, as if nothing had interrupted them only moments ago.
Words of encouragement and good-natured teasing are exchanged, under gasps and moans. Clothes are shed, tossed to the side as quickly as possible.
And just like the night before, he pauses, but this time he reaches for his nightstand. Your breath catches in your throat, nervousness having closed it.
“Are you sure?” he whispers, that solemn, serious expression back on his face as he holds up the condom for you to see.
More stinging in your eyes, and you catch your bottom lip between your teeth again. Ev had never bothered to ask if you were sure, not even when you had expressed hesitance and uncertainty just moments before continuing.
And even when she seemed to acknowledge those expressions, she never stopped.
He would stop -- right now -- if you wanted him to; if you so much as breathed the word.
“Yes,” you breathe, grinning at him. “Yes, I’m sure.”
After all, you don’t want him to stop.
You focus on the feel of his stubble against your skin, his lips against yours, his hand between your legs -- nothing else. Some time ago, you had decided that tonight, you’d let him take you. Therefore, this moment needs to last, needs to be right, and --
There’s a pause, and he pulls away from you, his fingers stopping in their teasing. He cups your cheek with his other hand, gently forcing you to meet his eyes.
“You know I’m still leaving, right?” he whispers, sadness creeping into his voice. His thumb brushes your cheek, and you can’t help feeling a weight settle on top of your lungs, robbing you of your voice -- if only for a moment.
“Yeah,” you whisper back. Your eyes sting, and your lip gets caught between your teeth. He’s moving. To Seattle. It’s what made you start this unorthodox relationship once again in the first place, and yet -- “You just had to remind me, didn’t you?”
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he says, his lips twitching in a facsimile of a smile. “Are you sure you still want to...” He trails off, and his hand moves from between your legs.
“Have sex?” you finish for him, a shaky smile forcing itself across your lips. It doesn’t last as he nods. You look away from him and direct your eyes towards the ceiling. You’ve only had one sexual partner in your entire twenty-six years, but --
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he adds, settling onto his bed beside you. And the absence of his weight on top of you only makes you focus on how you’ll be without him, entirely, in just another two weeks.
“I -- yeah, it’s probably better if -- if we don’t,” you manage, despite the words wanting to stick to the insides of your throat. You turn onto your side and drape an arm around him, resting your head on his shoulder. As you nuzzle against him, a wave of exhaustion hits, reminding you that you haven’t had much sleep in the past few days. “Is it -- is it alright if I go upstairs and go to bed?” you ask after a few moments of silence.
He smiles at you before leaning forward and pressing a light kiss against your forehead. “Go get some sleep, Alicia,” he says.
And you nod, not knowing what else to say but “Good night, Joe,” as you slip out of his bed and head to your room.
***
“You know, I’ve been thinking about it, and I’m glad we didn’t have sex yesterday,” he says as he settles onto your bed. You instinctively move closer to him, resting your head against his shoulder and closing your eyes.
“Heh.” You glance up at him and resist the urge to pull him in for a kiss, and instead offer him a sleepy smile. “That’s -- kind of funny, actually,” you say, brushing your loose hair out of your eyes. “Because I was kind of thinking the opposite?”
“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow and turns to you, and you rest your head against your pillow, waiting for him to continue. “Don’t get me wrong, I want to, but -- I don’t want you to do anything you’d later regret. Or for you to get hurt.”
“I know,” you whisper. You ignore the sudden wave of self-consciousness as it washes over you, and instead continue to hold his gaze. “It’s just --” The words fail you, despite how they had tumbled around over and over again in your mind all morning. “I think I’d --” you thread your fingers with his, and a blush warms your cheeks as your lips continue to move, “-- I’d regret it more, if we didn’t.”
His brow bunches together as your words sink in. “Really?” he asks, and then a grin sweeps across his face. “Well, then again, how could you not? I mean, look at me. I’m hot.”
You snort and roll your eyes, trying to hide your own laughter with a small shake of your head. “Shut up,” you grumble, putting a light hand over his mouth. “Just -- stop talking.”
“No,” he says with a quiet chuckle, gently moving your hand away from him. His playful smile becomes subdued, and a more serious expression takes its place. “You really don’t think you’re gonna get hurt, if we do?” he asks.
“It’s not that I won’t get hurt, it’s just...” I love you, your finish inside your head. You blink at the thought, then shake it away. “It’s going to suck, either way, you know?” you say instead, ignoring the sudden stinging in the corners of your eyes. “I don’t want you to leave -- and I know that having sex with you isn’t going to make you stay, but -- I still want to. And I really think I’d regret it if we didn’t.”
He nods, a much smaller smile playing on his lips as he speaks. “Well, don’t go thinking that we’re gonna ohmygod do it right now, because I’m not in the mood,” he says, leaning forward and brushing his lips against yours. “But I’m glad we talked about it.”
***
“I thought you said you weren’t in the mood?” you find yourself asking as he pulls you down on top of him on his bed, not even twenty minutes later. His hands are already underneath your shirt, and you try not to think about how Evelyn used to do the same thing to you.
“Changed my mind,” he murmurs, cupping your breasts. A disconcerting jolt runs through you, and you push his hands away and shake your head. He gives you a confused look.
“Reminds me too much of Ev,” you say with a wince. He takes the remark in stride, letting you roll off of him once the explanation is given. He’s on top of you in less than a second, his fingers burying themselves in your hair as lips and tongues resume their previous actions, as if nothing had interrupted them only moments ago.
Words of encouragement and good-natured teasing are exchanged, under gasps and moans. Clothes are shed, tossed to the side as quickly as possible.
And just like the night before, he pauses, but this time he reaches for his nightstand. Your breath catches in your throat, nervousness having closed it.
“Are you sure?” he whispers, that solemn, serious expression back on his face as he holds up the condom for you to see.
More stinging in your eyes, and you catch your bottom lip between your teeth again. Ev had never bothered to ask if you were sure, not even when you had expressed hesitance and uncertainty just moments before continuing.
And even when she seemed to acknowledge those expressions, she never stopped.
He would stop -- right now -- if you wanted him to; if you so much as breathed the word.
“Yes,” you breathe, grinning at him. “Yes, I’m sure.”
After all, you don’t want him to stop.