Words Get in the Way (PG-13)
Title: Words Get in the Way
Author: rose_starr
Prompt: "I'm three kisses away from falling in love with you."
Summary: Friends with benefits is simple…until it isn't.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: mild sexual content
Word Count: (if applicable) 1615
A/N: Thank you so much to my beta and to the mods for putting this together for another year.
Words Get in the Way
"I'm three kisses away from falling in love with you."
For quite possible the hundredth time, ten words echo in her mind, and Rose winces. She lifts the nearly full glass sitting in front of her, downs it in one, and motions to the dark-haired man behind the bar for another.
She isn't sure how long she's been here, and she isn't sure whether the drink being poured is number three or four; she isn't keeping count and doesn't care enough to try and figure it out.
But she vividly remembers Scorpius shifting behind her, his left hand tightening over her breast, his breath hot in her ear, murmuring those ten words followed by "You're beautiful," and his lips grazing lightly over the back of her neck to that spot that he knows melts her every time as his hand moved from her breast, skimming her side before coming to rest on her hip.
Thankfully she was facing away from him, and the wireless was playing just loudly enough to drown out her sharp intake of breath that was more involuntary than voluntary, and he mistook the stiffening of her body as a reaction to his erection pressing against her bum and his hand moving between her thighs rather than a reaction to the words he had just murmured.
"You're completely mental," she had replied once she'd managed to sort her thoughts, which had been a garbled mess between what his hands were doing and what he'd just confessed and she did not loop her arm around his neck or turn her head to kiss him like she usually would have done. He hadn't seemed to notice, though, what had felt to her like an awkwardly long pause and hadn't sensed that she was fighting the urge to bolt from his arms and his bed and to never look back; instead, he had moaned her name and slid easily inside her, holding tight to her hip as he began the deliciously slow torture he ravished upon her.
No matter that her mind was otherwise occupied, her body had reacted involuntarily to his, as she had done every single time they had been together for the past three months, and she had pressed back against him, her thoughts quickly unable to focus on anything except Scorpius's touch. He had brought her to orgasm within mere minutes, and for those precious moments, Rose had been able to forget what he'd said and focus only on the pleasure he was giving her.
And then, as soon as it was over, she had slipped from his arms and dressed more quickly than she could ever remember doing, stammering some excuse about being late for 'a family thing' that she knew he hadn't believed, and bid him goodbye with a perfunctory peck on the cheek, all the while trying not to notice the hurt look on his face or hear the sadness in his voice when he said he'd be returning to Egypt early the next morning.
She hasn't actually spoken to him for a week now and hasn't answered any of his owls, not the first one she received a mere hour after she'd left him asking her to see him and let him explain, and not the others that followed the next day and the next and every single day since, the final one earlier this afternoon attached to a bouquet of lilies and daisies with a single purple rose in the centre and ten words written on the card: If you don't come see me tonight, I'll stop trying.
These ten words have affected her as much as the previous ones had.
Friends with benefits. That was all they were ever intended to be.
It had been the perfect arrangement. Having someone to shag on a regular basis who she already enjoyed spending time with anyway without any of the drama associated with a serious sort of relationship. She'd had more than enough of that with Frank Longbottom for the previous two years, and when, six months after their broken engagement, Rose had realized she was not simply jealous of the fact that her former fiancé was shagging every woman who would spread her legs for him, but that she was lonely and desperately in need of someone to shag without strings, she'd been more than ready to find just that someone.
After carefully assessing her choices, she had settled fairly quickly upon Scorpius. It hadn't been a difficult decision; her options had been otherwise limited, seeing as all the other men she was close to were either married, gay, or completely unattractive in a sexual sort of way.
But Scorpius…he was different. She had always found him engaging and intelligent, and he possessed a wickedly sarcastic sense of humour that fitted well with hers. And she had always got along with him without conflict, the two of them having been close friends for more than fifteen years, although for the last ten, Rose would have been blind and ignorant not to have sensed the unspoken sexual tension between the two of them. But most importantly, Scorpius, who was a curse-breaker who travelled extensively, was a self-proclaimed bachelor, so not only wasn't he interested in a serious relationship, he'd had no time for one either.
Approaching him had been simple, and it had taken little more than one shot of Firewhisky, a hint of red lingerie, and a sensual kiss to get him into her bed where she had discovered, to her delight, that he was passionate, considerate, and eager to please. And please her he did…Rose had never felt the type of desire nor had she ever felt the type of compatibility she and Scorpius shared with any of her former lovers, and she had never been more satisfied. Theirs was a comfortable union, filled with laughter and lust.
She sips her drink this time, thinking back on it, and she realises she should have seen the subtle signs that things were transitioning: the way he had started brushing her hair tenderly from her face, the look on his face when she walked into the room, his recent inability to stop himself from touching her - be it on the arm or the small of her back or the curve of her hip or the back of her neck - no matter where they were or with whom they might be. And she admits to herself that over those months, her heart had started skipping a beat when his owl would arrive at her window to deliver one of his long, detailed letters and that she had started sharing simple, mundane things with him and that more times than not, she had found herself daydreaming about him, wondering what he was doing and if he was thinking of her as well.
"You've been miserable this week," she admonishes herself, murmuring into her glass that only she can hear herself speak. "You're happier with him than without him. What are you afraid of?"
She knows the answer to that question - she's terrified of being hurt again, afraid that she'll allow herself to become attached, will allow herself to fall in love with him only to have him ditch her. It isn't an unreasonable fear, that very thing having happened to her only last year, but there was always something off about her relationship with Frank that has never been present during her relationships with Scorpius, be it friends or friends with benefits…or perhaps even more.
Bloody hell, could she be falling in love with him, too? Was she willing to sacrifice the healthiest, most satisfying relationship she'd ever been part of simply because she was afraid that changing the label might ruin things rather than making them better, more secure?
She pulls a mirror out of her pocket and studies her reflection.
"What is it you want?" she questions herself quietly. "Are you willing to risk destroying what you've been building, even if you didn't realise you were building it?"
She isn't sure what she wants but she knows that she isn't willing to risk him walking out of her life; her heart aches at the thought of losing him.
Without another thought, Rose stands, pulls a handful of Galleons from her bag, drops them next to the still half-full glass she has abandoned, and steps outside to the Apparition point. After a week of ignoring him, of trying unsuccessfully to forget the first ten words he said - the ones she now realises she wants to hear again to make her forget those penned on today's note - she can no longer deny him, can no longer deny the truth.
Her fist raps softly at first, building with each successive knock on his door, a slight sense of panic rising in her with each one. She breathes a sigh of relief when the door opens, and he is there, standing in front of her, a look of bewilderment mixed with sadness, a vulnerability that she can't recall ever seeing from him before, and reservation she might have had vanishes straight away.
"Hi," he says softly, moving to the side and motioning for her to come in. "Listen, Rose, I -" he begins as he closes the door behind her, but she cuts him off when he turns, placing a single finger against his lips.
"One…" she says before leaning in and brushing his lips with hers.
He eyes her quizzically and she leans in again, this time holding the kiss a bit longer.
"Two…"
Her hands move to his cheeks and she holds his gaze, lightly touching the tip of her nose to his, her word barely a whisper.
"Three…"
Please take a quick minute to rate this entry. The top three entries will receive an award. Please do not vote for your own submission. This poll will be closed on November 7th.
Poll Words Get in the Way
Author: rose_starr
Prompt: "I'm three kisses away from falling in love with you."
Summary: Friends with benefits is simple…until it isn't.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: mild sexual content
Word Count: (if applicable) 1615
A/N: Thank you so much to my beta and to the mods for putting this together for another year.
Words Get in the Way
"I'm three kisses away from falling in love with you."
For quite possible the hundredth time, ten words echo in her mind, and Rose winces. She lifts the nearly full glass sitting in front of her, downs it in one, and motions to the dark-haired man behind the bar for another.
She isn't sure how long she's been here, and she isn't sure whether the drink being poured is number three or four; she isn't keeping count and doesn't care enough to try and figure it out.
But she vividly remembers Scorpius shifting behind her, his left hand tightening over her breast, his breath hot in her ear, murmuring those ten words followed by "You're beautiful," and his lips grazing lightly over the back of her neck to that spot that he knows melts her every time as his hand moved from her breast, skimming her side before coming to rest on her hip.
Thankfully she was facing away from him, and the wireless was playing just loudly enough to drown out her sharp intake of breath that was more involuntary than voluntary, and he mistook the stiffening of her body as a reaction to his erection pressing against her bum and his hand moving between her thighs rather than a reaction to the words he had just murmured.
"You're completely mental," she had replied once she'd managed to sort her thoughts, which had been a garbled mess between what his hands were doing and what he'd just confessed and she did not loop her arm around his neck or turn her head to kiss him like she usually would have done. He hadn't seemed to notice, though, what had felt to her like an awkwardly long pause and hadn't sensed that she was fighting the urge to bolt from his arms and his bed and to never look back; instead, he had moaned her name and slid easily inside her, holding tight to her hip as he began the deliciously slow torture he ravished upon her.
No matter that her mind was otherwise occupied, her body had reacted involuntarily to his, as she had done every single time they had been together for the past three months, and she had pressed back against him, her thoughts quickly unable to focus on anything except Scorpius's touch. He had brought her to orgasm within mere minutes, and for those precious moments, Rose had been able to forget what he'd said and focus only on the pleasure he was giving her.
And then, as soon as it was over, she had slipped from his arms and dressed more quickly than she could ever remember doing, stammering some excuse about being late for 'a family thing' that she knew he hadn't believed, and bid him goodbye with a perfunctory peck on the cheek, all the while trying not to notice the hurt look on his face or hear the sadness in his voice when he said he'd be returning to Egypt early the next morning.
She hasn't actually spoken to him for a week now and hasn't answered any of his owls, not the first one she received a mere hour after she'd left him asking her to see him and let him explain, and not the others that followed the next day and the next and every single day since, the final one earlier this afternoon attached to a bouquet of lilies and daisies with a single purple rose in the centre and ten words written on the card: If you don't come see me tonight, I'll stop trying.
These ten words have affected her as much as the previous ones had.
Friends with benefits. That was all they were ever intended to be.
It had been the perfect arrangement. Having someone to shag on a regular basis who she already enjoyed spending time with anyway without any of the drama associated with a serious sort of relationship. She'd had more than enough of that with Frank Longbottom for the previous two years, and when, six months after their broken engagement, Rose had realized she was not simply jealous of the fact that her former fiancé was shagging every woman who would spread her legs for him, but that she was lonely and desperately in need of someone to shag without strings, she'd been more than ready to find just that someone.
After carefully assessing her choices, she had settled fairly quickly upon Scorpius. It hadn't been a difficult decision; her options had been otherwise limited, seeing as all the other men she was close to were either married, gay, or completely unattractive in a sexual sort of way.
But Scorpius…he was different. She had always found him engaging and intelligent, and he possessed a wickedly sarcastic sense of humour that fitted well with hers. And she had always got along with him without conflict, the two of them having been close friends for more than fifteen years, although for the last ten, Rose would have been blind and ignorant not to have sensed the unspoken sexual tension between the two of them. But most importantly, Scorpius, who was a curse-breaker who travelled extensively, was a self-proclaimed bachelor, so not only wasn't he interested in a serious relationship, he'd had no time for one either.
Approaching him had been simple, and it had taken little more than one shot of Firewhisky, a hint of red lingerie, and a sensual kiss to get him into her bed where she had discovered, to her delight, that he was passionate, considerate, and eager to please. And please her he did…Rose had never felt the type of desire nor had she ever felt the type of compatibility she and Scorpius shared with any of her former lovers, and she had never been more satisfied. Theirs was a comfortable union, filled with laughter and lust.
She sips her drink this time, thinking back on it, and she realises she should have seen the subtle signs that things were transitioning: the way he had started brushing her hair tenderly from her face, the look on his face when she walked into the room, his recent inability to stop himself from touching her - be it on the arm or the small of her back or the curve of her hip or the back of her neck - no matter where they were or with whom they might be. And she admits to herself that over those months, her heart had started skipping a beat when his owl would arrive at her window to deliver one of his long, detailed letters and that she had started sharing simple, mundane things with him and that more times than not, she had found herself daydreaming about him, wondering what he was doing and if he was thinking of her as well.
"You've been miserable this week," she admonishes herself, murmuring into her glass that only she can hear herself speak. "You're happier with him than without him. What are you afraid of?"
She knows the answer to that question - she's terrified of being hurt again, afraid that she'll allow herself to become attached, will allow herself to fall in love with him only to have him ditch her. It isn't an unreasonable fear, that very thing having happened to her only last year, but there was always something off about her relationship with Frank that has never been present during her relationships with Scorpius, be it friends or friends with benefits…or perhaps even more.
Bloody hell, could she be falling in love with him, too? Was she willing to sacrifice the healthiest, most satisfying relationship she'd ever been part of simply because she was afraid that changing the label might ruin things rather than making them better, more secure?
She pulls a mirror out of her pocket and studies her reflection.
"What is it you want?" she questions herself quietly. "Are you willing to risk destroying what you've been building, even if you didn't realise you were building it?"
She isn't sure what she wants but she knows that she isn't willing to risk him walking out of her life; her heart aches at the thought of losing him.
Without another thought, Rose stands, pulls a handful of Galleons from her bag, drops them next to the still half-full glass she has abandoned, and steps outside to the Apparition point. After a week of ignoring him, of trying unsuccessfully to forget the first ten words he said - the ones she now realises she wants to hear again to make her forget those penned on today's note - she can no longer deny him, can no longer deny the truth.
Her fist raps softly at first, building with each successive knock on his door, a slight sense of panic rising in her with each one. She breathes a sigh of relief when the door opens, and he is there, standing in front of her, a look of bewilderment mixed with sadness, a vulnerability that she can't recall ever seeing from him before, and reservation she might have had vanishes straight away.
"Hi," he says softly, moving to the side and motioning for her to come in. "Listen, Rose, I -" he begins as he closes the door behind her, but she cuts him off when he turns, placing a single finger against his lips.
"One…" she says before leaning in and brushing his lips with hers.
He eyes her quizzically and she leans in again, this time holding the kiss a bit longer.
"Two…"
Her hands move to his cheeks and she holds his gaze, lightly touching the tip of her nose to his, her word barely a whisper.
"Three…"
Please take a quick minute to rate this entry. The top three entries will receive an award. Please do not vote for your own submission. This poll will be closed on November 7th.
Poll Words Get in the Way