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boogiewrites · 6 years ago

Text

Choking On Sapphires 63

Title & Song: Gimme All Your Love

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Word Count: 9300+

Summary: Genevieve sets a romantic tone all on her own. She shows Alfie a side of her he hasn’t seen before and they both get completely swept up in their feelings for each other. Confessions of love soon follow.

Warnings/Tags: Language. FLUFF. And I mean FLUFF. First “I love you’s”. Explicit Sexual Content: Making Love. Yiddish, Hebrew and French (phonetic Hebrew). They really go in hard on the flowery words.

**Chapter song is Gimme All Your Love by Alabama Shakes.**

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

There's something different between the two of you, you can both feel it. Something in the air around you as you pet and kiss, the ride back to Paris going by so fast as you'd been lost in each other the entire time. You open the door to your apartment and the crisp but not cold air of the night is moving through the tall rooms from opened windows, the sheer white curtains billowing in the Parisian breeze.

With all of the electricity off in the apartment, tall candelabra's stand in corners, lit and flickering across the space, the warm tones mixing with the cool colors of moonlight through the tall windows, reflecting off the white walls. Debussy plays on a record player, the soft and calming tones of Clair de lune twinkling through the air. Expensive wine and his white rum sit in an ornate ice bucket on the table in the center of the room, a shorter and matching candelabra next to it, fresh flowers billowing out over a crystal vase beside it.

You stand and take in the ambiance, exactly as you'd wanted. You take a deep breath and try to imprint this electricity you felt in the air into your mind. This would surely make for good painting inspiration later. You hear Alfie's footsteps stop behind you.

He narrows his eyes as they wander around the room before landing on you, seeing you let out a heavy sigh. "What's this, love?" he asks, closing the space between you. "What are you doin'?" he asks in a soft but vaguely suspicious way.

You turn swiftly to face him, your face illuminated by the low light of the room as you gesture towards the open windows. "We're in Paris. I thought if I didn't do something romantic it would've been missed opportunity for being dramatic." you give a coy smile.

"Never pass up an opportunity for that, it suits you too well, Genevieve." he grins and a low chuckle rumbles out of him as he looks down at you.

"I'm not good at being romantic but I'm...I'm trying." you say with hopeful eyes, batting up at him.

"You only think you're not good at it because you're so naturally oozing of romance that trying to be romantic is pointless seeing as you already are and it confuses you because you're trying to be something that you already are." he says in a grand, sweeping words, closing the space between you and placing his hand on your lower back, speaking closely to your face.

"That would explain your sweetness then." you coo, a slight wrinkling of your nose up at him.

"Nah, I'm afraid it's only natural where you're concerned sweetheart." he leans into you for a brief kiss. "And only then because you have such a twisted notion as to what constitutes as sweet." he chuckles and brushes his nose against yours to tease you.

You let out a soft laugh, putting your hand to his face to sweep your thumb across the planes of his cheek. "Good for me then, yes? No other woman will ever find you sweet and therefore I get to keep you all to myself." you coo at him, your hand falling slowly from his face, fingers tracing over his beard before you rest it on his chest.

"See, that's romantic innit? But what would romance be from you without the vague underlying tone of a threat." he smiles and kisses you as you both hum and titter at his teasing.

"It would seem as if we're made for each other aren't we?" you whisper, feeling the soft bristle of his beard against your lips as you place a soft kiss the corner of his.

The weight of the statement is purposeful for you and you believe you see it in his eyes that he knows it as well. There is no fear in your stare as your eyes flutter and move over his face. Both your expression soft and unfiltered, he closes his eyes for a moment and hums, a small nod of agreement before opening them again.

"And I do not plan on ever takin' the gift for granted again." his eyes dark as his hand reaches to your face, another soft and gentle kiss. "Noadnu lihiyot yakhad, Chanah. (We were meant to be together, Chanah)."

His sweet words you almost understood, the importance of them being in Hebrew and being called by your name of the same makes your stomach flutter with your lashes. "I got most of that." you admit and a bashful smile comes across your face and he lets out a loud laugh, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"I forget you are still a student." he says apologetically, beaming down at your in amusement.

"Say it again. I'll get it." you request with a nod.

"Noadnu lihiyot yakhad." he says slowly, every tensing of his throat and click of his tongue announced as he speaks clearly and with purpose, his nose once again brushing against yours, keeping your bodies close, not breaking the connection between you.

"Ken. (yes)" You say with a smile, lips to lips. "It would seem as if we are meant to be together wouldn't it?"

"What an apt pupil," he says without condescension. "You are picking up on it quickly aren't you little Chanah?" he gives you a slight squeeze. "But why would you not? A brilliant creature you are."

"I hope to have my bat mitzvah within a year. I'm certainly trying to learn quickly, but I will admit it's complicated."

"It can be yes. But I have no doubts in your abilities, my love." he smiles proudly, a kiss to your cheek in support of his words. "And after that, you will be able to understand all the sentiments I wish to pour upon you. Everything a Jewish woman could ever wish to hear. I'll speak them all to you." he purrs, lips brush against your cheek and moving to your jaw, making you sigh as the sweet talk hits your ears and causes you to shudder. "Mea levavot ihiyu meat midai kdei lehakhil et kol ha ahava sheli elaikh. (A hundred hearts would be too few to carry all my love for you)." he whispers, lips moving to your neck, pecking kisses across your throat as he speaks. "Milim lo yekholot letaer et ha ahava sheli elekha. (Words can't describe my love for you.) Ata kol kakh khashuv li (You mean so much to me). Ani ohev otkha (I love you)." the words rush out him, telling you things he longs for you to understand. Some you might've been able to decipher if he'd spoken slower, but it's as if your heart swells with every pop of his lips against your skin. Only your Alfie could say things you couldn't understand and still bring you to your knees.

"You're making me dizzy, darling." you mutter, head lolled back in his hand at the back of your neck. "I don't understand you but I believe I feel the sentiment all the same," you whisper as he kisses his way back to your lips. "How is a woman suppose to be able to withstand such a ravishing with words from your delicious mouth, Alfie?" you hum contently.

"At kol kakh yafa. (You are so beautiful)." he says with a slow-growing smile, his eyes almost sleepy as his fingers trail through the loose hair at the nape of your neck.

"You make me weak with your words in a way no other man can."

"And I will make it so no other man ever has the chance."

"I am yours, love, you should have no doubt." you say sweetly.

"How can I not doubt something as good as you happening to a man like me my love?" he says sincerely, with a shake of his head.

"But I am only yours, never lack confidence in that fact." you say with a tender smile. "I long to convince you of your worth, mon Fie. For you to see it as clearly as I." you whisper, your fingers delicate across his skin, your eyes with a hint of sadness at his disbelief. "I'd like to share a piece of myself with you that I haven't before tonight, darling. That's what I wanted tonight to be about." you give him a nod of enthusiasm." I wanted you to have me, the whole me in ways no one else has or ever will." you say with bright eyes that penetrate down to his bones with their emotion and honesty. "That's why I had to the maids leave for the night. It's the cause for the candles, the drink, the music. I've never tried to show someone how much I care for them." you say, turning out of his grasp as you spoke, motioning to the table behind you. "But upon deep reflection, I've found that is only so because I have not felt this way about anyone before," you say in a faint voice that lures him closer to the table with you. "Would you open this for me, darling?" you ask, passing him a bottle. "I'd prefer to change into something more comfortable. This modest dress feels constricting and I want to feel free and flowing tonight with you. I have much to share and I don't want any confines between us, not even of my dress."

"I'm surprised you haven't changed already. You never have been much for something understated. I look forward to whatever form you chose to grace me with tonight." he beams, a simple kiss to your lips before you fall back and ascends the stairs.

He looks down at the bottle in his hands only after you are out of sight. It was a bottle of his white rum. He tilts his head in consideration of it being there. He certainly didn't bring it and there was nowhere he knew of to get it in Paris. He hadn't seen you pack any, but then again, you had many trunks and perhaps he just hadn't seen them all. He uncorks it, a special brew he'd made in smaller batches, as he pours a glass for you. He decides to follow your lead, making himself comfortable. He takes off his jacket and vest, letting his braces hang loosely at his sides like he knows you like, unbuttoning a few buttons on his shirt and having a good stretch as he looks out into the night sky with the bright moon cresting over the tower in the distance.

"Thank you." he hears softly from the table as he turns to see you picking up the glass and taking a drink.

You were a lovely fever dream to him as always. Something unreal and almost intangible, feeling as if he tried to touch you, you might vanish into nothing and he would realize you had only been a dream, a fantasy of womanhood he longed to know. As he returns to your side, a hand sliding across your upper back you smile at him over the edge of the glass, finding relief that you were real after all.

You wear one of the things you'd picked out at the boutique, a long and sheer robe of billowing fabric and long wide sleeves that touch the ground in a light pink color. Your dress itself a deep maroon, lace at its hems, hitting above your knee and tight around your full chest as all things you wore were. Your hair is now loose, fully down from the barretts you'd had in it and wild once again. It falls to your lower back and past your breasts, your skin looking pale against it in the cool-toned light of the moon from the windows. The softness the flickering flames from the decorative candelabras give you a glow that he cannot explain. With your lipstick gone, only the soft pinky flesh tone left to adorn the pouting lips. Your large dark eyes were framed with long lashes that cast shadows across your cheeks, even though he was touching you most certainly, his other hand now twisting a piece of your hair in his fingers, he couldn't help but muse the fact that you still might be a glorious hallucination.

"You look like a dream, my love." he tells you. "I feel compelled to touch you to know that you are in fact real."

You lean up to kiss him, he can taste the rum on your lips. "I do hope I am not a dream, for to think of existing without you when you wake is far too painful a fate a bare." you sigh, your finger running across his full bottom lip. "You as always are my perfect portrait of masculinity and its charms." you let out a soft chuckle and a warm smile appears across his face. "The candlelight loves you, Fie. I shall have to capture you in paint like this one day. It's too sublime to not commemorate."

"Is the rum already in effect?" he lets out a deep chuckle against your cheek, kissing you gently.

"Don't be daft my silly man. You should know I find you to be own personal Adonis. I shall make a point to show you how much I adore your physical vessel. But only after I tell you how much I adore your mind." you pat his cheek.

"What sweet words from you tonight Genevieve. Did you slip them in along with this?" he asks, picking up the rum bottle and setting it back down, grinning and pushing your hair from your face.

"I had this from my last trip here."

"You brought it with you?"

"I always bring your rum when I travel." you state obviously and he tilts his head in wonder.

"We were not speaking last you came here." he points out.

"I'm aware," you say with a single nod. "Doesn't mean I didn't miss you." you say with kind eyes. "It reminds me of you when you're away. It's what I drink when you aren't with me. I can pretend to have a tiny bit of you beside me if I have this." you raise the glass. "I can at least recall what you smell like after coming home from work if nothing else."

"Even though we were apart?" he asks with confusion reading on his face. "Even though I had acted in such an unacceptable way towards you?"

"Yes." you answer simply.

"Genevieve you are not human. How can you hold such a capacity for forgiveness for a bastard like me? I don't deserve such consideration...for a goddess like you to yearn for me in such a way."

"The heart wants what the heart wants, Alfie. You know as well as I do that you can't control it." you whisper and smile, patting his cheek and moving away from him to the piano. You move the switch from the player against the wall between the windows and move to the bench. He watches you, eyes never leaving you as you moved. "Would you have a seat darling?" you ask, your hand out the armchair facing the piano. "I want to play something for you." you add in an almost shy way.

"I thought you hated playing piano?" he questions, sitting and leaning forward, elbows on his knees towards you.

"I love it. I only hated my teacher." you correct. "After you left I picked it back up. It was one of the things I used to distract myself. There was one piece of music I played most frequently, and I'd like to play it for you."

"Of course." he says softly.

"I've never played in front of anyone on my own accord before."

"And I am flattered you would offer to show me." he responds with a nod.

"I wanted to give you something that I've never given to anyone else. And I wanted to show you something that touched me deeply...to share my art with you. You've seen my paintings but, you haven't seen me do this." you nod curtly and graze your fingertips over the keys. "Only second to you, art is what moves my heart in such profound ways. Joining the two seemed to only make sense."

"And all of my senses are yours for the performance." he replies with a charming smile.

"I wanted to play Moonlight Sonata. Are you familiar?"

"Only slightly. " he says with a shake of his head.

"Good. You can see it through fresh eyes." you straighten your posture and place your feet. "This piece reminded me of you, and somehow it expresses what I felt after you left, but also how I feel with you now. Something that moved me from sadness from your departure. Now it reminds me of you for other reasons, the intensity representing love instead of sadness, an understated happiness showing through something dark such as the danger of our lives. So..." you clear your throat. "This is for you." you whisper before taking a deep breath, not watching his face as his eyes went soft, taking in the image of you backlit by the moon in your gown. Looking much like an angel.

A simple a solemn build, playing with your eyes closed begins. He watches you unravel over the keys, shoulders pressing and shifting, giving yourself over the music. Seeing you in action was something new. He could see the aftermath of emotion with a painting but seeing you physically engage in your expression was an entirely new beast altogether. The music was low and slow, rising and falling your head nodding and shaking as it did. He could see your brow furrow with every low note, your eyes roll under their lids with every high one. The delicate notes contorting your face, a slight snarl of lip as he watched your walls fall away and he was left watching something raw. It was quickly apparent to him this wasn't about showing off a skill you possessed. Your words beforehand were a prologue to the story you were trying to tell him with your fingers. Your control and reserve are gone, something only fueled by emotion, by what he see's as love for the art and for him. You were delivering as advertised, giving him a piece of you no one else had. He wants to return the gesture, and knows only through a showing of his own vulnerability will he be able to repay you. Should he lay himself at your feet? Should he shout off the balcony about how much he loved you? Give you monologues of Shakespeare and tell you how he very well might die if you ever parted? He's left feeling raw and overflowing, enraptured by your show of yourself to him.

You end with the repeating chords, your eyes fluttering open as you return to your body. You sit back, hands in your lap, reserved and slightly drained for a moment.

"Seeing a work of art perform a piece of art is something I have not even thought of until tonight," he whispers, as your head raises, looking to him with large dark eyes. "You do give yourself fully to the things you love don't you?" his tone still delicate and face thoughtful as he rose, extending his hand out to you.

You take it and blink slowly, still in a haze. "I see no other way to make life worth living." you respond simply.

"And that is what I have been missing isn't it? A passion?" he takes you into the frame of the window, holding you against him, a hand in your hair, smoothing the soft waves as they'd become displaced in your passionate display. "You live with such heart. You feel so intensely for things that most cannot even comprehend or appreciate. You are the most fascinating thing I have come across in all my years. And I have sought out the interesting, the clever and the peculiar. And all for selfish reasons of bettering myself. But you...you Genevieve....my Chanah. You are anything but ordinary. There is not a hair on your head that is simple in its existence. There has never been a word that has crossed your lips that I have not had to revisit and ponder over. But you, even at your least graceful you are such a spectacle of God's creation that I myself am made anew in my faith and in awe of the possibilities that you bring to my life with every breath. You without knowing have charmed me to the point of hopelessness that I should ever be able to function without knowing your grace intimately. Even within your deepest faults, you are perfect to me. And I am a man that does not believe in perfection. But I was also a man that did not believe in love, not truly until I was made aware of your existence. You, without trying, changed the man I am. I cannot be the same after knowing you. I do not want to be the man I was before you, you have touched the deepest recesses of my mind that others have cowered from. You are truly the sun for what was an endless night before. How can a man go back into the cold darkness after knowing the warmth and light of the sun that you exude so effortlessly? You have taken up permanent residence in my mind, my heart....my soul. I do not wish you to ever part from me." he takes your hand from your side, limp and in awe of the words that were worthy of poetry in your eyes, and all of them meant for you. He holds your hand on his chest, covering it with his own.

"Alfie." you barely mutter in awe.

"Even my name is something I have learned to love simply by hearing your voice speak it." he whispers, leaning in closer.

"You say all these things. All these priceless things I could have never dreamed of hearing from another. But do you know how you complete me, Alfie? Truly?"

"I did not believe I was half before you. I was unaware of the emptiness I held. And only with you am I whole. I believe this as fully as any fact known by man. If you feel I can do anything besides be undeserving of such a place in your heart I am blessed."

"You are deserving," you say with a small smile, eyes staring into his. "You are my most favorite thing in the universe. I thought I knew happiness before you, before I knew you, but I have never been more elated to be wrong. I would lose everything to be with you, do you know that? I would rather live in squalor than be without you now. For what is it all worth when you have experienced what you make me feel? There is no other high in the world I would ever chase that could match what I feel simply by waking in your arms. I will try to express it until my tongue turns to dust how deeply you are apart of me now. But I ask you Alfie...my darling...do you know how much I love you?" you ask, your chin nodding towards him. You feel fearless and raw, as if you'd been sliced open and your past sins that made you feel so hesitant to accept the existence of something so sublime, came pouring out.

"Oh but I do, Genevieve. I know it for you have shown it to me. You and your love have kept me alive. For that, I owe you nothing short of dying for you. And I would gladly, my love. My creature that defies all reason of logic to me, do you know how much I love you?" he asks his thumb moving tenderly over your cheek, his nose against yours.

"Oh but I do." you swoon back, taking his words. "I know it for you have shown it to me. You have spoken it to me with your heavenly words and without through your eyes and hands. I love you, Alfie Solomons. I have never loved a man as I do you and I do not plan on loving another after you."

"No one could ever compare to you. I would not even entertain the thought." he says with a smile, pausing and taking a deep breath, his eyes shutting, brow furrowing as he presses his forehead to yours. "I love you. I have ached to say it." he opens his eyes and takes your face into both of his hands. "I love you." he states again.

Your cheeks crease under his hold. "And I love you." you whisper. "I love you, Alfie. My only regret is holding onto my fear and not saying it sooner. For that, forgive me."

"Forgiven." he says as he kisses you. "She loves me." he whispers, a smile on his lips. "I have loved you for so long, Genevieve."

"You have?" you ask with rapidly blinking eyes.

"I would dare to say on a deep, subconscious level I knew I would love you the day you walked into my office." he says with a sigh. a crooked, closed mouth smile appearing on his lips as he wet them. "I thought that woman will be the one to do me in." his smile grows and he kisses you. "And that was proven true. And I wouldn't want it any other way." he says with a brief shake of his head.

"I must admit I knew much later." you say bashfully, triggering a deep chuckle from him.

"I wouldn't expect anything else from a complicated creature such as yourself. To know anything for certain is so rare. And to know you have come to it on your own terms only makes it that much more dear to me, my love." he coos, another peck gifted to you.

"I knew without a doubt the night we kissed at your club." you confess.

"Yes. That was a night I recall feeling it very strongly." he adds with a nod.

"I knew the night you invited me to your house for the first time. I'd thought I was when you left. What else would've caused me to hurt in such a way? When I told you I was Jewish I had hoped I was in love with you, as I hoped you were in love with me. When Elizabeth died it made aware of that I might be. That night spent in the tub together, telling you of all the ways you appealed to me...my heart was trying to tell my brain something it didn't want to believe. Something I could no longer ignore."

"That night was special wasn't it? I could feel it when I touched you. When we made love that night you were so quiet. So delicate and soft." he says quietly, a relaxed smile on his face, recalling the night.

"But I can attest that from the moment I laid eyes on you I knew you were special," you say with a more cheeky smile. "I felt something coming off of you that I was attracted to. I thought it was you being a powerful man. And I suppose in part it was." you shrug and smile into his hand, closing your eyes for a moment. "But now I know the draw to you was something beyond my understanding telling me to not lose you. That our paths had finally come to a point, and that point was one of no return." you gently kiss his palm and turn back to him, placing your hands on top of his.

"We did meet at an interesting time in our lives didn't we?" he muses, leaning in close again.

"It seemed inconvenient. But there would've been no other time before when I would've opened myself up to someone."

"And I will never forget that without you and your brilliant brain I would most likely not be here right now." he adds in a lower tone.

"Oh, how you haunted me, Alfie." you whisper. "You still haunt me, you know? Only in new ways now. Much more pleasurable ways." you look up to meet his eyes.

"And may I continue to do so?"

"Most certainly. I insist you do not stop." you say with a soft smile.

"Then I never shall." he kisses you. "And what pleasure might I continue to bring you?" he whispers against your lips and you feel your heart flutter as his lips begin to move to your cheek, his breath hot against your jaw.

"For you to indulge in my appetites. To humor my fascinations with you." you rasp out. "To make love to me well and often."

"I will add it to the ketubah." he coos in a deep tone and you let out a deep giggle, your arms moving to around his neck as he moves his to embrace you.

"You will have no trouble remembering to do so, I'm certain." your voice growing breathy as his hands roamed your back, the heat from his body warming you through your thin clothing.

"I forget how to do anything but make love to you at times, I will admit you stunningly gorgeous goddess of mine." he groans, lips moving across your neck as you let your head fall to the side.

"Then let's forget everything but that tonight, mon Fie. I want to show you how much I love you. I want to tell you I do while we're one. I want to know the contentment that only comes with falling asleep in your arms after exploring each other bodies fully. I want to take our time to make the memories of the night we told each other how we felt unforgettable. I want to remember this night forever." you confess with eyes that had fluttered shut as he cradles your head in his large hand.

"And I will show you how much I love you without words as best I can, my love. I will be a man at worship when I'm with you. We will not be able to tell where we begin or end." he breathes out as he works his way up to your lips. "Are you ready for bed, pet?" he asks first, pulling his mouth from your skin to ask permission.

"I'm always ready for you Alfie. Take me. I'm yours." you purr with an affectionate bump of his nose to yours.

"Then I will take my queen to her throne, shall I?" he says with a dip in his voice, turning you and lifting you up threshold style as you keen happily and put your arms around his neck. He takes the stairs slowly as you hum and kiss at his cheek and ears.

"I do love it when you do this." you admit in a giggle, your fingers playing in the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Carry you to bed?" he asks, bumping the door open with his foot.

"Yes. Makes me feel small and overtly aware of how broad and strong you are. I do love it when I can't ignore how arousing you are, darling." you hum and take his earlobe between your lips.

He gently sits you on the bed, you throwing your legs over the side, looking up at him with big eyes, taking in the breadth of him. "Shall I serve you further by undressing you as well? Would that please you?"

"It would please me very much." you purr.

"Then lie back and I will show you how I love you, darling." he drops to his knees in front of you and you know you will never tire of the sight. "I will use my mouth against your skin to tell you." he whispers, starting with a kiss to your chest. "I will used my hands to worship your body in it's striking beauty." he continues, running his hands up your bare thighs. "And I will use my cock to worship your heavenly cunt until neither of us can recall the world outside exists." he finishes his promise with a seal of his lips to yours. A biting harshness to it, feeling the way your breath hitched at how he spoke of your body.

Your arms wrap around his neck slowly, the only sounds your mind would acknowledge were the friction of your clothing and the sound of one another breathing. The ambient noises of the night on the streets, the flickering of flames on the dripping candles, the rustling of the wind through the curtains was nonexistent. A single candelabra sits on the vanity across from the bed in its little alcove with the large mirror. The light reflects off it, creating a warm wash across the room, the creeping high moon lights in slats through the windows on either side of the bed, both battling across your skin as your moved for supremacy.

His adept fingers grip your robe, sliding it from your shoulders, kisses leading down from your lips to follow the fabric down one arm. He brings your hand up to his lips, they brush against your knuckles, carrying across your palms, smooth and sensuous as they envelop each fingertip. His mouth exhales into your ear, sending goosebumps across your skin as the straps of your gown are dragged down. He pulls the silky maroon gown down by the sides under your arms, a quick yank down across the span of your breasts. In the low light, you can still see his chest shift with a heavy breath at the sight of you, a glimpse through his half unbuttoned shirt. His chest hair peeks out, your eyes following how it moves up and connects with the wild and unruly beard that had overgrown through the winter. Your fingers long to get lost in it, feel the roughness of the wiry hair as your fingertips trace down his strong body. You get your chance as he gives over to his lust for your body.

"My love your divine body is utterly exquisite." he lightly moans across your collarbones, rough fingers outlining over the swell of your breasts. His kisses go lower, hands cupping your large breasts and bringing them to his eager lips. A muffled "mmph." of pure enjoyment from him as your hands move to his neck as he sucks and licks away at your softness. "Perfect." he rasps out, his plush lips moving across your skin. You sigh and let your feelings overtake you. You indulge in the urge to meld together, skin to skin, every limb entangled and covered in a thin veil of sweat. You work away at his buttons, hands making their way to his shoulders under his shirt, your nails raking across and eliciting a moan from him.

He wills his lips to part form your skin, hands moving to your thighs and squeezing, feeling the rough skin across the soft fuzz that covered your thighs, kneading up to your hips, hands slowly gathering the silk slip in his hands. His fingertips trace down your sides gently, outlining the curvature of your body before delving under the fabric to pull it down your thighs. At the unveiling of the fact that you were without knickers his strung-out face licks its lips, nostrils flaring and twitching as the triangle of plush hair is revealed with every distance he pulls down your gown. It falls from your knees to the floor easily with the guide of his hand, then both moving up to capture your legs again, thumbs rubbing against your sensitive inner thighs.

"You are statuesque in your beauty, my love. Why no one has carved you into stone for the world to revel in your magnificence is beyond me." he exhales softly, hands so tender against you, taking their time to feel your softness as they work their way up to under your breasts where his thumbs swipe over your now hard nipples. "But I would wish to be so selfish as to only have my eyes take in your form like this. Only these cursed hands can find their salvation across your impossibly soft skin. My god Genevieve the greed you light within me for your body." he groans with his nose brushing yours, keeping you so close but wanting to enact on the greed to keep you wanting, watching you take in all the words he wants to seduce you with.

"I wish to see you, to touch you. To act upon the covetous nature you awaken in me with your libidinous words." you trace your tongue across his lower lip and you feel his lashes flutter against you. "Stand Alfie, let me take the pleasure in undressing you now. Let us act gluttonous in our lust." you whisper, seeing his shoulders slump as he finds himself being immersed in your words, something he'd never experienced with another woman before. A woman with a filthy mouth arising want in someone was one thing, a woman that could tame the tongue of a charm spinning man, to make it stutter at her own serpentine one that bewitched him was another. You were surely a creature from another realm to do such things to a man like him.

"As you wish, my love." he purrs, a mild kiss before doing as you request. His half-lidded eyes take you in as you sit back to admire him, your head tilted in consideration, hair behind you and your body glowing from the light bouncing around the mirrors and white walls of the room.

You stand and work away at his buttons, soft tugs to unleash his shirt, a leisurely descent of your fingers down the rising and falling slopes of his winter bulked torso. Kisses placed to his chest and upper arms as you let the shirt fall to the floor. You kiss with fervor across his tattoos, the broad planes of his chest, your fingers unfastening his trousers. "What a strapping man I've managed to capture." you sigh, nose nuzzling against his chest, lips indulgent, grazing over his nipples and listening to his breath catch. "So strong." you praise breathily, leaving his trousers open and diverting for a moment to his arms, giving them a squeeze and continuing your journey across his chest. You let your fingers cascade down past his own, pushing down his pants as you brush your flat palm over his length, feeling it grow as you loosely grasp at him, passive and tame tugs, one hand after the other, feeling him get hard and humming contently against his chest as you feel the moans move up and out of his mouth. "You gallant..." you rasp out, stroking him with both hands, still a light touch to only arouse him, it wasn't about getting anywhere quickly tonight. You only wanted to worship him with your body the same as he did you. "...potent beast of mine." you coo and look up to find his eyes shut. Those pillowy lips parted and recently wetted as you take in the impressive mixture of rugged masculinity with his touches of delicate beauty that made up his face. Lashes that curved outward over blue eyes, plush and lustful lips, the elegant and straight slope of his nose below that heavy brow that covered his expressive eyes. Knowing he could bring people down with a simple expression, a glance of his powerful face, including you, made you sigh out audibly as you looked at him through the eyes of a woman in love. "Such a dominant figure you are my darling. So dynamic with the softness you show me. And only me...is that right my most handsome lover?" you look up at him with doe eyes, lashes fluttering same as his as he comes back to the surface, looking down at you with eyes that declare you to be his wordlessly.

"It is, my love," he says smoothly, feet moving to rid him of all other clothing as he pulls you to him, skin to skin and connected with a slow kiss. "Only you can bring forth the good that is left in me." he shakes his head and speaks against your lips. You hold his face for a moment, a single noisy smooch before you pull from him, his hands held out and wanting as you spin to get on the bed.

"Come." you say on your knees in the center of the bed. "I want to feel you, mon Fie. I want the heat of you against me." you say with a delicate smile. He obeys and crawls towards you on the bed and the sight of such a predatory beast coming your way makes your chest heave and a satisfied hum escape you. You see him hard, hanging between his legs centered with the dark gingery hair that trailed up his stomach and dusted out to his thighs. You move your eyes slowly, no need to rush the feast you were taking in.

He watches you bite your lip, tongue wetting them, your eyes dark and roaming as he sat on his knees across from you, sat the same. Watching your chest rise and fall, your hands moving up and down your thighs slowly, he wondered if he'd ever been gazed at in such a way. Only on his worst days, when his war-racked body would ache in it's age and abuse would be feel lacking in his confidence. But if he had you to look at him like this, completely bare and only himself to offer, feeling so wanted and powerful he doubted anything could ever affect his view on his body again.

You inch closer, a subtle smile on your face, fingertips light across each other's skin as you melt together, chest to chest. He moves to kiss you and you pull back, a smile with your tongue peaking from your teeth up at him, as his eyes flutter to meet your own with a look of confusion. You graze his lips with yours, only teasing, making him wait, wanting to savor the sensations of touch fully before interlocking completely as you were sure to lose yourself in him. Your tongue licks his lips gently, running your lips open across his cheek before returning, a denial that he wasn't sure of at first. As he leans in to only share breath with you, hands deliberate across each other's bodies. Moving between legs and across shoulders, dragging up from your ankles to resting on ribs, his senses are heightened, existing in the moment with you. You both move and switch places in turns, chest to chest, back to back with heads lolling and fingertips gripping into hips from behind. You roll aimlessly on the bed with entangled limbs. Your lips light against each other, taking in every bead of sweat and gasp as you taste each other's most intimates places. Juices from your fingertips and lips, sucked off your own fingers or spread into the others mouths, sharing and building in connection slowly with no other motive than to show the other how much you adored them. You take him into your mouth, he takes you into his, from palms to between your legs, nipples, earlobes, and lips all thoroughly explored and worship to a pert pinkness.

And just as this heartfelt affair had started, unintentionally but seamlessly, while above you, your legs wrapped around him, feet caressing his thighs and bum, he slips inside you. A soft exhale with his lips to your throat. His exploration across the pulse in your neck as slow as his hips, a lazy pendulum, slow and steady rubs against you. As the first loud moan builds, a faint gasp, an arching of your back that waves up your body to release the build-up of the wanton sound. He captures it in his mouth, your hands to either side of his face as he moves above you. You force your eyes open, you want to watch him and find he's already doing that same to you. Your body wants to dissolve into nothing but pleasure underneath him, but your heart is telling you this is something more. You're left open in every sense to him, both your eyes half-lidded and dark, lustful but still controlled as you had conversations with no words, but with moving lips against each other. Your eyes served as windows, as the poets say, to your souls that had felt so hindered before they found each other. You move his hair from the peaceful oceans of his eyes, it now hung limp and damp as yours, falling into his face. You take the time to feel the strands through your fingers, the thick softness, the wiry almost curl of the ends, still long from his winter coat that had gone untrimmed.

HIs fingers surprise you, his broad and ringed thumb slipping over the pulsing and sensitive bud, already wet from the previous release his sucking lips had brought upon you. Your body, tenses at the feeling, eyes fluttering as a masculine smile falls across his face at what he's doing to you. You hum and your hips shift, hands leaving the cozy nest of his hair for a moment to roam his arms, his back, his arse, feeling his muscles move and tense underneath his skin. You feel the strength of him beneath your hands, moving up to his shoulders again, the caps barely contained by your whole hand, trying to grasp him as another wave of pleasure builds and washes over you. A whimper is passed between you as you feel his arm slip underneath you, a deeper moan that turns into a smile, as he pulls your body off the bed. As he rises, your fingers slide through the unkempt curls at the base of his neck, pulling out of your grasp, sliding out of your hands, left hanging and reaching for him. He pulls his legs underneath him, pushing into you deeply as he does so, a non verbally praise of the depth he was reaching before you are left with only your head on the bed. You push off with your hands, answering him with your movement as he whispers, "Come." to you as he brings your bodies together chest to chest. Pulling you into his lap, his legs now straighten out in front of him, you wrap your legs around him, planting your feet behind him on the bed. It takes only seconds to feel the growing desperation in his hands, and then as you look down as his parted and panting lips, you see he's passed his limit for control and you welcome it.

Your one hand strong to the back of his neck, the other resting, your back slightly reclined as you held up your weight on the bed. His hands move to your hips, although they do not need the instruction to move, you use your thighs to grind yourself against him. The fullness of him inside you in addition to the tension from the muscles in your legs make you let out a breathy moan into the air. He answers it quickly as one hand moves up your back, large and holding your weight with it, pulling you closer to him. His mouth hangs open, leaning fast into the valley of your breasts. Your arms push them together, as he glides back and forth without grace to each nipple, taking one into his mouth, then the other, sucking and lapping away at you like you were the last thing he was ever going to taste. With one hand firmly on your most lower back, fingers gripping you by the gap of your bum, keeping you moving against him as he moans into your skin. Another hand, now freed moves up your body as he continues nipping away at your hardened nipples, it moves frictionlessly across the slicked skin up to your neck, to mirror your grip. With a loud breathy exhale, he pulls his lips to yours with the harshest movement of the night. Open mouths meet, tongues writhe between mashed and pliant lips, broad swiping strokes to fragile entangled movements with your tips before more cries rise between you. Moans and groans pass faster between you. You break the connection, your breathing growing too wild with the movement of your hips, as they started to seek out release while the tightness between the two of you grew. You let your eyes shut, giving yourself over to the feeling, focusing on his hands on your body, moving you both faster as he bucked into you, your hips taking him in deeper still. With your hand fully fisted into his hair, the other clinging to his upper back, your thighs make up the difference his hips and hands moving can't as you let your head fall back, your hair brushing across his thighs, tickling it as his skin grew more and more sensitive the longer you two were entangled together. Your mouth wouldn't close now, leaving room open for every noise he pushed up and out into the dim room. He cranes his neck, his nose and lips lightly pressed to your throat as your head lolls back. You can feel the pattern of his breathing through the flutter of his breath and the press of his chest against yours.

Taking him deeper and grinding down, him pushing in and out of you, you build to a wondrous crescendo, your lips whining and seeking out his, low brows pressed together as his hand held you taut. Panting mouths and rolled back sets of eyes show your vulnerability, letting no noise go unheard, no reservations of showing any weakness for the other now as you poured out the wordless praise as your thighs shook and your nails dug into his skin. It was intense but not boisterous, a subtle hand to show his work was not going unappreciated. You felt helpless, floating with him in suspended bliss as his grunts tell you he let himself give in this time too.

He filled you up in every way, physically and emotionally. With the desperate moans passed, the kisses come crashing hard again. Whimpers follow presses of lips in their fluctuating patterns against one another. His arms now fully embracing you, you come down together, your thighs now lax and knees spread at his sides. Staying inside you, He lies on his back, keeping you close. The indulgent nature is lazy and heavy, both slick with sweat, muscles tired from a full day and a fuller night. As your breathing regulates, kisses more shallow, pauses between them with hums and brushes of your noses, he rolls you to your side. Your leg stays around his hip, arms wrapped around his neck as he moves to carelessly kiss your neck and shoulders, still silence between the two of you. It was a practice in wordless communication, this love making you both took your time with. It wasn't its purpose as it happened naturally, but it leads to a deeper understanding of each other.

With sleepy eyes and heavy limbs he rises, a familiar grunt as he bends at the waist and reaches for blankets you'd turned down. A soft and clean whoosh of air over you as they settle against you. He leans back against the headboard, a king among the pillows, and you, his queen sliding against him to his side. He covers you to the ears, one hand lazily stroking your hair, pulling it off your shoulders, creating some control to the chaos of the cloak of it wrapped around you during your romp together. As every exhale had been since you'd told him you loved him, you felt a tiny bit of your old self fade away with the heavy sigh that escaped you as you pressed your cheek to his chest.

"Alfie?" you ask in a voice that feels almost foreign. It was fluffy and light and girlish, a whisper from a child who didn't know heartbreak yet is how is name left your lips.

"Yes, my love?" his voice and face are relaxed, and how long had it been since they both were at the same time, he could not recall. The lightness of the white room, the air that caressed his damp face and hair, moon and candlelight bouncing off each other as he looked to the mirror across the room from the bed, a calm tone set that he was sure he would only ever be able to experience again in your arms. He studies your bodies under the covers in the reflection, how there was no discernable shape of two people underneath them, but a two-headed creature that lay in wait, concealed from the prying eyes of the outside world. And wasn't that just so fitting?

"Bien qu'il n'ait pas besoin detre parle avec des mots apres que nos corps l'ont dit avec le toucher, je me trouve toujours desireux de vous le dire dans ma langue etrangere." (Although it does not need to be spoken with words after our bodies have said it with touch, I still find myself longing to tell you in my foreign tongue)." your voice is sweet, just as the smile is on your face. "Je t'aime. (I love you)" you confess again, eyes closed with a fluttering of lashes against his skin he takes the time to feel.

You were so soft in his embrace, one hand reaching over to stroke your cheek, the other rested on your arm to keep you close. "Et ja t'aime mon petite.En France, votre coeur et votre foyer nous ont amenes ensembles vers cet endroit. Il est juste que nous le disions dans la langue maternelle qui l'a fait sortir de nous." (And I love you my little one. In France, it has been your heart and your home to bring us together to this place. It is only right that we say it in the mother tongue which brought it out of us.) His voice is quiet, the words making you feel young. Imaging yourself still sitting in the tiny first apartment you had, chin in hand and staring out into the expanse of the city, longing to hear a man with a voice and mind like his tell you things that were now a reality.

"Et c'est encore plus doux que je n'ai jaimies imagine. (And it's even sweeter than I ever imagined). Combien il est lourd detre des mots si simples. (How heavy it is to be such simple words) Je t'aime. (I love you). Creer ou detrruire une vie avec si peu de mots. (To create or destroy a life with so few words)" you muse, your voice quiet, delivered sleepily against his skin.

"Et quelle chance nous avions de le dire dans la creation.(And how lucky we are have said it in creation)" he whispers, voice as tired as yours, a contented hum in repsonse from you. " Je souhaite construire une vie avec vous, Geneveive. C'est mon intnetion de le faire. Je t'aime. J'ia attendu toute une vie pour fe trouver et ja prevois de nouse rejoindre officiellement bientot. (I do wish to build a life with you, Genevieve. It is my intention to do so. I love you. I have waited a lifetime to find you and I plan to join us together formally soon)"

The words feel like a dream, you wonder if you've already fallen asleep as the promise brings you no worry and only a warmth that goes deeper than that radiating from his body into yours. "Je t'aime Alfie et je t'attendrai. (I love you Alfie and I will be waiting)" you whisper to him. Because you do, and you will.

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thedeanthomas · 7 years ago

Text

Homecoming Out

He’s lying on his couch when he hears it, and Dean hates himself for how quickly he jumps up. He’d recognize that voice anywhere-it was as familiar to him as the ache it now caused in his heart to hear.

Seamus.

Through the peep hole on his door, Dean can see the back of Shay’s head and he watches as he bends over to pick up something on the ground. He hates himself for staring at his ass.

“Yeah I’ve got like two more….”

He’s moving out. Like Dean knew he would. Dean’s frozen against the door, hating himself for every second he spends pressed up against the door, just desperate for a glimpse of his….well, Seamus wasn’t his anything anymore, was he? Still, Dean watches, but soon, Ginny and Luna leave with boxes of their own, coming back right after each other…..sans Shay. Was this a new low? Or had his low not moved? He grabs his phone.

Dean: I know you’re down in the parking lot. Come up. I just wanna

Delete.

Dean: you’re seriously moving back home? Over talking to me?

Delete.

Dean: you could’ve at least said hi, you prick.

Delete. Frustrated, angry, and honestly disappointed in himself, Dean punches the door, leaving a dent and causing him to yelp. He really needs to stop doing that-he was pretty sure his antics from the past two weeks had at the very least fractured his knuckles. He sighs, and goes back to watching more non consequential television, zoned out until he hears a knock on his door. Dean knows it’s Luna before he even opens his door.

“What’d you want, Lune?”

She raises an eyebrow.

“Well hello to you too.”

Dean sighs.

“Sorry. Hey.”

“Hey. Gin and I are going to get sushi tonight, you wanna come?”

“Be the third wheel on the lesbian tricycle? Nah, I’ll pass.”

Luna rolls her eyes.

“You wish.”

Dean opens his mouth to say something, to tell her he’s not even sure he likes women anymore, but he closes it. He’d be lying if he hadn’t thought about the two of them plus him…and he’d at least still had the decency to feel bad about it after. Thinking about it right now excites him, what the hell did that mean? Why did this all have to be so confusing?

“Dean, you alright?”

Luna’s leaning against his doorframe but her expression turns into one of worry as she watches him.

Dean shakes his head.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m fine. Just don’t feel like going out yet. With you two…all in love or whatever. Because of Lav.”

He honestly had not thought of her for days until right then. That seemed so long ago, a lifetime ago, being heartbroken over Lavender. He hadn’t even know what heartbreak could be like until he woke up alone that morning in Greece.

“Oh. Right, yeah. She came by, didn’t she? Cleaned you out.”

Luna looks over his shoulder to see everything stripped and bare-Lav had taken most of the decorations. Dean hadn’t had the energy to care or be upset about it, but in hindsight it was pretty shitty.

“If it’s any consolation, I never liked her, Dean.” Ginny appears with a grin, her hand sliding easily around Luna’s waist as she joins her girlfriend in the doorway.

“You invite him?”

“He said no.”

“He did.” Dean chimes in, deciding to partake in the conversation. “Because he doesn’t feel like it, not because of anything deeper or whatever the fuck it is you two are concocting.”

Ginny laughs. “There’s no cocks, of the con type or any other, in this relationship.”

“Ha.” Dean rolls his eyes.

“I thought it was funny.”

“It was babe.” Luna presses a kiss on her cheek. “Dean’s just bitter. Don’t take it personally.”

“Are you two done? Can I go back to my peace and quiet?”

“You mean stewing in your own depression?” Ginny looks over his shoulder into the apartment. “Jesus, she took the fucking curtains? What a douche.”

That makes Dean laugh and Ginny seems proud. He’d always liked her, and the way that Luna’s smiling at her-so gone for her-well that makes Dean like her all the more.

“She is a douche. And I’m not going to be sitting here-I have a date tonight.”

It was true. Well, date might be a loose term. Callum, this guy Dean had been talking to for a few days on Grindr, was coming over. They’d been sexting pretty heavily, and Dean was both excited and terrified-hoping he could live up to it in real life. Luna’s eyebrows disappear into her bangs.

“A date?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, Lovegood.”

Ginny leaves after a few more minutes of banter and Luna’s about to too when Dean asks what he’d been avoiding, worried about the direction the queestion would in

“Hows living together going?”

Luna’s smile breaks his heart.

“Amazing. Thanks Sugar Daddy.”

“Do not call me that.”

“Sugar Deanie?”

Dean winces visibly, and Luna pauses, he can feel her watching him.

“Don’t uh-call me that.”

“Because Lav did?”

He knows her well enough to know when she thinks something is total bullshit, and he can hear it in her voice now. Dean keeps his own voice low and steady.

“Yeah.”

“Shay got his stuff today.”

Dean tries not to react, knowing it’s what she wants from him.

“That’s great for him. I’m glad he has the ability to pick things up. I don’t care, Lune.”

She sighs.

“Yes you do.”

“I don’t.”

“Dean look, whatever happened, you were really vulnerable, and your feelings are just-“

“Stop telling me how I feel!”

That surprises both of them. He doesn’t yell, not really, but there’s a force in his voice that he’s never used with her before. Dean knocks his fist softly against the door frame, mad at himself.

“Sorry-“

“No, I’m sorry. You’re right. I need to butt out. I just-I can’t stand the thought of you two not talking anymore. It’s sad.”

Dean pulls her in for a hug so Luna can’t see the sadness on his face.

“It sure fucking is.”

She pulls back and gently touches the sides of his face.

“Well, if your date goes to shit, sushi invitation still stands. And if you need any help with clean up in the morning…it’s been a while since I pretended to be your jilted girlfriend.”

Dean laughs, remembering his old go to escape plan.

“I’ll let you know.”

“Is it…that same girl? The hottie from the bar?”

Who? Oh. Right. Rowan. Luna didn’t know.

“No, just someone from online. I don’t think we’re gonna be each other’s soulmates or anything.”

Luna laughs, heading back across the hall to her place.

“Who knows, though? Stranger things have happened.”

Callum: can’t wait to fuck you

It’s this kind of romance that Dean had gotten acquainted with over the past two days. That’s how long it had taken Dean to build up the courage to ask Callum over, and something inside of him, now that he was waiting for his door to open, was regretting this choice. Too late to back out now, and Dean knew it was just nerves. He’d felt like he’d had a giant light up sign that said “GAYGAYGAY” hanging over him when he’d bought condoms and lube at the corner store, before he remembered that those weren’t exclusively gay things. He couldn’t sit still now, waiting and pacing for Callum to show. Dean had added a bio to his grindr after his encounter with Noah, and it had proven to be quite the conversation starter. But now Dean was worried that “If you’re nice enough I’ll let you fuck me-but I don’t want to be your boyfriend” might be getting him into deeper water than he was ready for. If Dean was being honest with himself, he was liking all the extra attention, nearly every person he swiped right on had matched with him, and it was both exhilarating and terrifying. If Dean was continuing to be honest with himself, he’d admit that the only reason Callum was on his way was because in the right light, he could be Shay’s twin. Or relative at least. Dean was just so desperate for Shay-any part of him, any imitation- that Daniel’s weirder texts didn’t even matter.

Dean takes a deep breath when he hears a knock at the door and he’s beyond grateful that the girls are out. He won’t have to explain this to them if they don’t see. Callum is just as cute as he is in his picture when Dean opens the door, and there’s something about his smirk that makes butterflies erupt in Dean’s stomach.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Before Dean can get any other words out, Callum is in his space. He grabs the sides of Dean’s face roughly and starts to kiss him. Dean’s thrown off at first, but he quickly catches up, letting out a soft groan as Callum’s hands boldly move down to grab Dean’s ass, using this leverage to pull Dean closer to him. Callum falls onto the nearby couch and pulls Dean down onto his lap, not pausing for air or breaking away at all, biting at Dean’s lips and feeling up his ass with abandon. Dean feels himself grow harder already and Callum must be able to too because he finally pulls away to laugh.

“Jesus, you really are a bottom, huh? So thirsty for it.”

Dean isn’t entirely sure what to say so he just laughs a bit uncomfortably-but it turns into a gasp as Callum bites his neck, sucking a mark there.

“Oh….”

Callum smirks before bringing their lips together again, and his hands move up to hold Dean at his waist, skimming his hands across the bottoms of Dean’s shoulder blades. They keep kissing, and the hands keep moving up until they’re pressing on the tops of Dean’s shoulders. At first, Dean thinks it’s just Callum moving around, but then he presses down on his shoulders more aggressively, as if he’s trying to get Dean onto the floor.

“What are you doing?”

Callum pulls away fully to study Dean, looking at him like he’s grown a second head.

“I want you to suck me off.”

Dean laughs again, though there’s no humor.

“I don’t-I don’t do that.”

Callum scoffs.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah…”

Dean really doesn’t like the condescending tone that’s being used.

“Some fuck you are, huh?”

It’s Dean’s turn to scoff.

“You can leave, you know.”

Callum kisses him. It’ too aggressive and wet.

“No, no, come on baby I’m kidding. You’re so fucking sexy. I need to get you to bed.”

I’m not your baby.

It feels rehearsed, almost forced, but Dean gets up and shows Callum the way to the bed. Callum pushes Dean onto the bed backwards and pulls his own shirt off over his head. Dean does the same, undoing his jeans and pushing them off with his briefs. Callum whistles low under his breath looking at Dean naked on the bed below him.

“Fuck, you’re fit huh?”

Dean isn’t sure how to respond and it doesn’t really matter because Callum is naked and on top of him before Dean even really has time to think. This is different, and not entirely in a good way. He’s still turned on, but…well it sounds stupid to say it feels impersonal, given the people Dean’s been seeing naked lately, but that’s the word for it. Dean just feels like a means to an end, he doesn’t feel connected to Callum, or even like there’s anything to this beyond just sex. It’s totally meaningless-that’s what Dean had wanted, right?

“Lube?”

Callum snaps him back to reality.

“Nightstand.”

Callum lubes up his fingers and enters Dean without much fanfare. He moves his fingers too fast-or maybe there isn’t enough lube, either way, Dean has to keep from wincing as Callum stretches him out. He’s quiet for him-gasping only on the few times Callum brushes his prostate.

“Turn over.”

Dean’s more than happy to, not wanting to look at Callum more than he already has to. He was starting to regret this, but he wasn’t going to stop. Just keep it meaningless. Meaningless. It keeps playing on loop over and over again in Dean’s head, even as Callum’s cock enters him. He starts fucking Dean at a pace that’s too fast, but Dean just takes it. It feels different…did he put a condom on? Dean feels panic swoop in him as he’s trying to remember, but he honestly doesn’t know. He tries not to panic as Callum roughly plays with his balls, but his answer comes in a way that Dean hadn’t expected.

Callum pulls out roughly and with a loud grunt, comes all over Dean’s back and ass. Dean feels his cock go limp as Callum falls next to him on the mattress.

“Was it good for you?”

What a loaded fucking question.

“Yeah…”

Callum yawns loudly.

“Good. You might wanna go clean up.”

Dean nods absentmindedly and gets up on auto pilot, feeling horribly gross. He digs his phone out of his jeans on the floor and heads to the bathroom connected to the bedroom. He hasn’t used the tub by himself before-the last go at each other he and Lav had had was in that very tub a week before the wedding-but he doesn’t know what else to do. He slides in once the water is high enough.

What did this even mean? He’d hated that. Was he even gay? Was that just bad sex? Was it his fault? It grows dark outside according to the small window in the bathroom, and Dean can hear a faint snoring coming from his bed. He’s not going back in there. No way. The water from the tub slowly drains but Dean doesn’t move. The questions keep playing around and around in his head, second guessing everything he’d thought he’d learned about himself these past few weeks.

God, he missed Seamus.

Hours later, he’s naked in an empty bathtub and he’s lonelier than he ever felt possible. He must have drifted off to sleep, because the next time he glances at his phone, it says it’s just past eight am. Dean can still hear the snoring, and he knows what he has to do. He has to-he can’t keep this to himself anymore. Dean opens his phone to favorites and clicks Luna’s name. He’s surprised when she answers.

“Hey star shine.”

She sounds smug.

“You need a clean up crew?”

Dean nods for a moment before realizing he has to speak.

“Uh-yeah.”

“Dean? What’s wrong?”

He puts his head back on the porcelain of the tub. It’s cold. It feels good.

“I have to tell you something.”

“Okay?” She sounds really worried.

“I um….it’s a guy. That I have over here. I just need you to uh-I’ll tell you when-“

“I’ve got you, okay?”

She has no idea how much hearing that just makes him feel worse.

“Okay.”

It’s only a few minutes later that he hears her key in the front door. She’s really laying it on thick and if Dean were in a better mood, she’d probably be making him laugh.

“Honey? I’m home, my love. I’m so sorry, I just crashed at the office last night. So much work. It’ll come in handy though, with the baby coming and all. Dean?”

“Shit.”

He hears it coming from the bedroom and then the sound of Callum scrambling to find his clothes.

“Dean?”

She’s closer now, and when Luna enters the bedroom, she lets out a blood curling scream that Callum replicates. That does make Dean smile. Luna’s voice carries over the din.

“Another one?! He promised he was done cheating!”

“Fuck! I’m so sorry-“

“Get out- get out!!”

Dean hears the front door slam and then Luna’s voice grows soft.

“Dean? He’s gone.”

She pokes her head into the bathroom and sighs sadly.

“Oh honey.”

Dean just nods.

“Can you get dressed?”

“I uh-“

“Oh, right. Here.”

She rummages around in his dresser before she tosses a sweatshirt from their school and a pair of sweatpants into the bathroom.

“I’ll be on the couch when you need me. Do you want some tea?”

He nods again. It take a long time for him to get out of the tub, and every inch of him feels stiff from the tub and from the rough way Callum had handled him. He pulls on the clothes and when he gets to the living room, and Luna offers him a small smile. Wordlessly, he lays down with his head on her lap and starts to cry. Luna doesn’t say anything, just lightly drags her fingers across the top of his head she can reach. They stay like that for a long time, until Dean’s cried out.

“We fucked.”

Luna’s fingers don’t stop moving on his head.

“I mean I figured.”

“No…”

Dean sighs, taking a beat before he says it.

“Seamus and I. We fucked. That’s why…that’s why everything’s shit now.”

Luna’s fingers stop.

“You and Shay had sex?”

Dean nods.

“Oh. What-I mean, what happened?”

Dean sits up and faces her, Luna takes his hand gently.

“We uh-were at that club in Greece and he was trying to find someone for me to snog-so Lav wouldn’t be the last one. And we couldn’t find anyone, so on the walk home, Shay kissed me. And then he got all weird and kept saying sorry but then when we were up at the hotel room I kissed him. And we….yeah. And I liked it so much. And then he left me-“

His voice breaks, hating how much it still hurts. Her thumb rubs small circles on his palm.

“And I uh-got drunk and I got mean and I called him that worst things I could think of. He hasn’t talked to me since. But Luna…I don’t know who to be now. Not without-it hurts more than Lavender. Not having him. How fucking pathetic is that?”

“You’re not pathetic.”

Dean rolls his eyes.

“Right.”

“You’re not. I get it, I’d be the same way. So you’re….are you bi, you think?”

“I don’t fucking know. I really-god this is embarrassing, but I really like fucking dudes. More than with girls. But last night was awful…”

“All types of people have bad sex, Dean.”

Her voice is gentle, not malicious.

“Oh.”

“And bisexuality is a sliding scale, babe. I’m bi and I like girls and boys pretty equally. Ginny’s bi-“

“Ginny’s bi?”

“Mhmm. See? She’s only ever dated women, but she still could see herself with a man. It’s not 50/50 for everyone.”

“Oh…so yeah. I guess. I’m bi.”

He kind of smiles when he says it, and she reaches up to cup his cheek.

“I’m proud of you.”

“You wouldn’t be if you heard what I said to Shay.”

Luna sighs and stands, offering Dean her hands to pull him up.

“Well, if we’re going to talk about that, I’m going to need some coffee. And Gin’s making a pot.”

Dean dutifully follows her across the hall. Ginny’s lack of surprise at the state of him tells him that Luna has already filled her in-and Luna takes Dean to their bed, crawling in next to him.

“Alright Thomas. Spill.”

He smiles sadly at his friend.

“You’re not going to leave? Even once you know what I said? You won’t hate me?”

Luna squeezes his hand.

“I might be sad for you, or disappointed, but I’ll never hate you. I promise.”

Promises are getting harder and harder for Dean to believe. “Yes I’ll marry you.” “We’ll talk in the morning.” But one look at Luna, and Dean knows he’s safe. And when Ginny crawls in next to the pair of them and listens too, as his friends let him cry and offer him advice-it’s the closest Dean has felt to home in a long time.

#au #drabble #luna #ginny #callum #seamus #:/

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