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beegomess · 17 days ago

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All Along, We Were Like Him || Kendall Roy

A/N: Just a reminder that my first language is not English!

02. Can I show my love for you?

You and Kendall started going out more often. What started as casual encounters - coffees and dinners without high expectations - quickly evolved into deeper conversations. He trusted you in a way that surprised you, sharing important plans and strategies about Waystar.

It was an almost disconcerting level of openness, considering the short time you knew each other. You opined carefully, keeping yourself distant enough not to seem committed. But deep down, she couldn't avoid the fascination with the trust he placed in you - and the vulnerability that came with her.

Still, there was a part of you that knew that what was happening could cause problems, especially with your own family. Your father had never hidden his contempt for the Roys. He and Logan had already been close friends for decades, until a betrayal - on both sides, as you heard fragments in the stories - turned this friendship into rivalry.

It was with that in mind that you prepared for dinner that night. It would be just you, your father and Oliver, but any conversation involving the Roys was enough to make the atmosphere tense.

Dinner started as always: tense, silent and punctuated by cold phrases about business and responsibilities. Just the three of you at the table, a scenario that should be familiar, but lately seemed tighter, more suffocating. His father was in the center, as always, commanding the dynamics with incisive questions and veiled observations that looked more like orders. Oliver, next to him, played the role of responsible son, although his smile denounced that he was just waiting for an opportunity to provoke.

The sound of the cell phone vibrating in the bag was the first deviation from the routine. Everyone heard, and you almost felt your father's disapproving look crossing the room before he even spoke.

- Turn it off, whoever it is.

You forced a restrained smile, trying to soften the discomfort.

- Sorry, I must have forgotten to hang up.

You got up calmly, crossed the space to the bag and took the cell phone. Kendall's name blinked on the screen, but you quickly rejected it. However, other messages appeared soon after.

- If you need to answer, just answer soon. - Your father said, impatient, crossing his arms and watching you as if you were a distracted child.

- It's not urgent at all. It's okay. - You answered, trying to close the subject, but Oliver didn't miss the opportunity.

- Is it your boyfriend? - He let go casually, without even looking at you, his voice full of irony.

His father turned his head, his eyes narrowing immediately.

- Boyfriend?

- Yes, she's been dating Kendall Roy. - Oliver says almost as if it were great news.

Your father's look hardened.

You took a deep breath, keeping your composure.

- Of course not. - He said firmly. - I don't know where Oliver gets these things from.

- Oh, please. - Oliver replied, shrugging his shoulders. - You keep going out with him. Coffees, dinners... Do you want me to pretend I don't understand?

- I have meetings with many people when Dad is not around, Oliver. But you wouldn't understand, since you barely show up at work. - You try to divert the target of the conversation, but your father didn't seem convinced, and his silence was almost heavier than words.

- So you're saying that this proximity to the Roys is purely professional?

- Absolutely. - You answered, the lie coming out more easily than you expected.

He laughed, but in no mood, shaking his head slowly.

- So tell me what agreement is this we have with them, dear? Because as far as I don't remember, we don't have any.

You took a deep breath, you knew you needed to choose your words carefully.

His father's laughter was bitter, without humor. He shook his head slowly, with a look that mixed disbelief and tiredness. - So tell me, honey, what professional agreement is this with them? Because, if I'm not mistaken, I don't remember any.

It was like a punch in the stomach. He was trying to push you to a corner where there was no escape. You tried not to give in, but your breathing became harder with each word.

- Dad, you know better than anyone that understanding someone's weaknesses is essential. - The voice came out more serious, more calculated. - Knowing them is an advantage. No matter what you think of the Roys, they are competition. And if I'm close, if I know what they think, it puts us at an advantage.

For a moment, it seemed that he was going to give in. But then, he laughed. A laugh that had nothing funny about it.

- I thought I already did this with Siobhan. - Oliver's voice cut the air, loaded with a poisonous irony. - Unforess these weaknesses are... more personal?

Oliver's provocation was like a snat. You felt the anger grow, but your father was faster, cutting the road before you had a chance to answer.

- That's a waste of time, dear. - The coldness in his voice made his stomach turn. - I told you, you should have other priorities. You need to focus on what really matters.

You opened your mouth to answer, but he didn't give you a chance. With a sudden gesture, he got up from the chair, taking the napkin and throwing it on the table hard.

- Dad, please. What does this have to do with...

- It has everything to do! - He replied calmly, but the fury totally disguised. - Do you want to follow in my footsteps? Great, but do it right.

A brief dense silence followed, Oliver gave a little smile like a child who got what he wanted, which did not go unnoticed by his father's eyes.

- What about you? - He looked at him with even greater fury - Are you thinking of copying Logan's addicted son with these shitty bets? - He got up, throwing the napkin on the table hard. - I'm fed up.

The silence that followed was almost deafening. Oliver kept a smile on his face, satisfied with the chaos he had helped create.

After the explosion at dinner, you tried to hold your composure, but the tension on your shoulders was unmistakable. His breathing was heavy, and the silence in the room seemed to press even more. Oliver kept sitting, casually fiddling with his cell phone, as if he hadn't just watched and encouraging the destruction of an already fragile moment.

You couldn't take it anymore. He pushed the chair back hard and got up. Taking his bag, he marched towards the exit without even looking at it.

- Good night to you too, little sister. - He said with a mocking smile, without even looking up.

You pressed your lips, fighting against the desire to answer. He didn't deserve any more words from you. He walked to the elevator with quick steps, his heels echoing on the marble floor of the corridor. As soon as he pressed the button, he felt the anger begin to bubble, mixed with a sting of exhaustion.

When the elevator doors opened, you came in and pressed the ground floor button hard, as if that could unload some of your frustration. As soon as the doors began to close, you heard footsteps through the door that began to close.

- Wait. - It was Oliver's voice.

You almost ignored it, but the automatic reflexes made you arrive on time. He entered the elevator, still with that damn smile on his lips, and stood by his side, the atmosphere inside the small space becoming immediately suffocating.

The silence of the elevator was as suffocating as dinner had been. You kept your arms crossed, staring at the control panel as if it were more interesting than Oliver's presence. He, in turn, leaned against the wall with the usual condescending smile, his eyes shining with satisfaction for having caused chaos at the table.

- Funny how good you are at talking about weaknesses, but you never see yours. - He broke the silence, his voice low, almost casual. - It's tragic, actually.

You narrowed your eyes, without turning your face, trying to keep your composure.

- Oh, please, Oliver. - His voice came out controlled, but loaded with sarcasm. - Because you are the image of perfection, aren't you?

He laughed, without humor.

- Still, I'm not the one who's in a case with a Roy and pretending that this is strategic.

You turned your body to face him, your gaze sharp.

- At least I don't spend half my time trying to hide prostitutes with the company account. - His tone was as lethal as a well-calculated blow.

His expression hardened. He opened his mouth to answer, but you cut him off before he could articulate a word.

- Good luck explaining this to Dad. - You finished, letting a cold smile touch your lips.

The elevator reached the ground floor with a light and low whistle. The doors opened, and you left without looking back, feeling a momentary feeling of victory. The tension was behind, but you knew it was still hovering, silent and loaded, as you crossed the lobby.

When he got out of the elevator, his feet echoed in the corridor, but his mind was a thousand, carrying with him a mess that you could no longer hide. The discussion with Oliver was still boiling in his head, the feeling of frustration and helplessness mixed with the irritation of knowing that nothing, absolutely nothing, would change in that dynamic.

Every word he said, every gesture of your father... you felt more and more trapped in that cycle. But at the same time, a part of you questioned what you were doing with all that. Every dinner, every conversation about business that said nothing, but had everything to do with what you were and what you should be. What was left there besides a constant struggle to prove its worth? As if it were just an endless race.

You took a deep breath, trying to get away from these thoughts, and went to the car in front of the door. The driver was there, waiting, and you quickly got into the vehicle. When sitting, the feeling of claustrophobia did not pass, but the car soon began to move, and the city around him seemed to be in motion while his head remained in a distant place.

When he finally looked at his cell phone, Kendall's messages were there, waiting. You hadn't realized how many hours had passed since the last time he called. The screen blinked with another notification from him. "Plan change. Can we talk?" His mind automatically made a connection with what Oliver had said before about the Roys. It was always a mess, but you had to admit: their chaos was somehow intrinsically linked to what you wanted to achieve, what you needed to achieve. But what was really going on? What was forming between you and Kendall?

You looked at your cell phone again. Two missed calls from Kendall, and then the lump in her throat tightened. He didn't use to be so... insistent, but you knew that if he was acting like that, something was wrong. And you, what were you doing? Part of you hated to admit it, but something in what your father said was echoing in your mind: "This is a waste of time." You forced yourself to ignore the feeling, but you knew it was impossible. Doubts about your own choices began to grow like an invisible shadow, a voice you didn't want to hear, but that was there, always.

For a moment, he hesitated. What would you do now? His mind was running, but he didn't know if it was still worth it. But something at that moment made his fingers act without thinking. You started typing an answer, almost unintentionally, a quick sentence: "Can I go to your house?"

Kendall's response was almost instantaneous, as if he was waiting. "Yes."

And with that, you warned the driver, who followed your request without question, and the car went through the city to Kendall's building. You had never been there before, but when you arrived, the building seemed impersonal, modern, a perfect reflection of the life he led. Upon entering, the security guard at the entrance didn't seem to care much, and you crossed the lobby without hesitation. The elevator was right there, and you clicked the floor indicated by Kendall.

In the small space of the elevator, the feeling of anxiety became more palpable. The metal walls reflected your tense expression, and you couldn't look away from the number of the floor going up. Disconnected thoughts took over his mind. His head looked like a whirlwind of doubts. What the fuck do I want here? The feeling of letting yourself be carried away, once again, by something that not even you yourself understood, grew every second. But I couldn't go back, not after everything I had said.

When the elevator stopped, you left without really knowing what to expect. Kendall was already in the room, as if she had stayed there, waiting, but trying to disguise her anxiety. He held a glass of drink in one hand, still with his shirt unbuttoned and already without a tie, traces of the exhausting day of work.

- I didn't think you would really come. - He said, his voice calm, but his gaze delivering something more difficult to decipher.

- Yeah, neither do I. - You answered, with a low and very tired voice. He speaks quickly, with the kind of attention that had become almost uncomfortable for you.

Without saying anything else, Kendall went to the small bar in the corner of the room and served you a glass of the same drink, the sound of the liquid hitting the glass cutting the silence between you. He walked up to you and extended the glass, his eyes trying to read something in his expression.

- Did something happen? - He said, the slight concern barely disguised in the voice.

You looked away for a moment, letting your eyes wander around the apartment. It was the first time you were there, and everything seemed like an extension of it: modern, sophisticated, but with a certain disorder that betrayed you. Papers and notes were scattered on a central table, and a pile of folders rested in a nearby armchair. You took the glass he offered and took a small sip before answering.

- Just... family. But I don't know if I want to talk about it. - You said, directly, avoiding diving into this subject.

- Right. - He said, respecting his answer as he returned to the couch and sat down, letting out a sigh.

- So what? What was so urgent? - You asked, tilting your head slightly, the discreet tiredness mixed with curiosity.

Kendall took a deep breath, as if trying to gather the right words before answering them.

- I think I found a solution to Waystar's debt. - He said, the tone loaded with seriousness.

You crossed your arms, tilting your body slightly in his direction, intrigued.

- Who accepted to invest?

He hesitated, as if evaluating the best way to deliver the information.

- Stewie.

His reaction was immediate - the eyebrows raised in surprise, but his tone remained light.

- I didn't know they were still so close.

Kendall let out a dry laugh, almost as if the memory was bitter.

- "Next" is not exactly the word. He saw an opportunity.

You looked away to the window, watching the city lights outside while digesting that. It was strange how this world always revolved around the same names, the same fragile alliances.

- And Frank? - You asked, still looking out, but with a casual enough tone not to seem accusing. - How are things with him?

Kendall relaxed a little, as if thanking for the change of focus.

- Well. He thinks we can use the advice to get my father out, as long as we play the right cards. - He replied, and you felt the weight in those words, although he tried to seem more confident than he really was.

You turned your face in his direction, approaching, studying his expression for a moment.

- And Stewie would be one of those letters?

- Yes. - He confirmed with a short nod. - If he's with me, it's already a sure vote. Frank believes that you can convince two or three more with this.

- It's a risky move. - You commented, not as a criticism, but as an observation while sitting next to him on the couch, but not so close.

Kendall gave a half smile, the one that always seemed to balance sarcasm and resignation.

- All this is risky. But you already know that.

You nodded slowly, absorbing the words. He was right, of course. Nothing in this world came without risk - no business, no loyalty, no alliances.

For a few seconds, silence reigned between you, until you broke it with a softer tone.

- I think you're handling it well.

He looked up at you, surprised by the unexpected validation.

- Really? - He asked, almost skeptical.

You shrugged, a small smile on your lips.

- I'm not saying it was the perfect solution, but you made a decision. And, considering the options, it was the best I could do.

Kendall seemed to absorb that for a moment, as if she needed to hear from someone else to believe it.

- That means a lot coming from you. - He said, the sincerity evident in his tone, and you felt something inside you warming up with those words.

You looked away, trying to hold the smile that threatened to escape.

- "Thank you"? What should I answer now? - You joked, the light tone, but with that ironic touch of someone who already knew that the answer would not come easily.

- To be honest, I don't even know. - Kendall replied, with a low laugh, accompanying her lightness. But contrary to what it seemed, he was not as relaxed as he tried to demonstrate.

You were closer now, in a way that seemed... natural. It was as if the conversation, despite everything, was part of a more intimate scenario. The sofa didn't even seem to have the huge size it had, the physical proximity between you was starting to become more palpable. Kendall was leaning against the backrest, while you were on your side, your eyes wandering through the glass in front of you and him.

The silence that followed, instead of uncomfortable, became a kind of tacit understanding between you. Until you decided to break it.

- What about Shiv, does she know that? What are you doing? - You asked, your gaze fixed on the glass, but the curiosity evident.

Kendall took a while to answer, almost as if she was weighing her words.

- No. No one but you and Frank knows that. - He spoke with an honesty that still seemed to have something unsaid.

You laughed, but it was more of an ironic smile, more for yourself.

- It looks like she's going to hate you again for a while, then. - You let go, without trying to hide the provocative tone.

He turned his face to you, eyes narrowing slightly.

- I won't be the only one to be hated here. - He replied with a smile, but you noticed a slight tension in the way he looked at you. - What do you think she'll think of you if you find out you're supporting me in this?

The smile disappeared from your face for a moment, and you stared at him with a look that was a mixture of disbelief and fun.

- I'm not "supporting" anything, Kendall. I don't have sides here. - Your voice was calm, but the sarcasm was there, as always. - I'm just listening, trying to understand what the hell you're doing.

He laughed, a laugh that was almost an exhalation of relief.

- Of course, because that will convince Shiv. - He gave a half smile, the irony now balancing on both sides.

You made a face, recognizing the truth in his words.

- Well, maybe she'll hate me for a while. - You justified yourself, the tone a little softer, almost like a confession. - But it will only be until Tom does some nonsense. So, I bet she'll call me, needing a friend. It won't take long.

Kendall laughed low, but you could see the real touch in your laugh, as if you really knew that this would happen.

- Oh, of course. It's always easier for you. - He looked away to the glass, but a smile still cast a shadow of fun on his face.

- She'll hate you, that's for sure. But it won't last long. You'll need something, then you'll remember that you still exist. - You joked, but the words came out with a genuine touch. An understanding between the two of you, of how everything in that dynamic was fold.

The climate changed slightly, the mood was gradually dissipating, leaving a more loaded space. Kendall didn't break the silence immediately. You noticed that he was reflecting, but you didn't know exactly what. Until, finally, he spoke.

- You know, when I asked her to send me her number, she made me promise that she wouldn't try to sleep with you. - He said, smiling lightly, but his eyes were deeper than the smile indicated.

You laughed softly, the sound coming with a touch of surprise.

- I know, she told me. - Her voice came out more natural than you expected, and the silence that followed became thicker, loaded with something unsaid.

You looked at him, staring for a longer moment than usual, and for a second, the words got stuck in your throat. Kendall didn't look away.

- But, to be honest... - You paused, feeling the intensity of the moment take shape. - This rule... I would have no problem breaking it.

The tension intensified in the air between you. The joke that was in the conversation before disappeared, and now there was something more... real. Something more personal, deeper.

Kendall held his gaze for a second that seemed to prolong in time, something in him oscillating between vulnerable and resolute. There was a subtle change in his expression - a reflex of uncertainty mixed with something deeper, something that seemed to be weighing him down for a long time. Then, he leaned gradually, adjusting to face you completely.

Without realizing it, you also lean over, as if something invisible was pulling you both closer, leading the distance almost imperceptibly.

- You know... - He started, his voice a little lower, more hoarse. - I thought you were going to cut me in the middle of this sentence. Throw in my face how stupid that sounds. But you... - He gave a short laugh, shaking his head as if he was trying to understand. - You never do what I expect.

For a moment, his words were in the air, heavy and light at the same time, full of unspoken meanings. You felt your heart beat faster, but kept your gaze firm, offering a small smile, almost restained, but loaded with something that said more than any word could convey.

The tension between you was palpable, like a magnetic field impossible to ignore, taking you more and more to the same point.

Kendall looked at you, this time with an intensity that seemed to disarm you, the silence between you loaded, as if the words were completely unnecessary.

He approached, slowly, but without hesitation. His knees almost touched, and the proximity made the air look denser. You felt his warmth, the subtle smell of whiskey mixed with the expensive perfume, everything around him drawing your attention in an almost suffocating way.

When he raised his hand, it was as if time was slowing down. Kendall hesitated, her palm hovering for a moment in the air before gently touching the side of her face. The gesture was so delicate, so unexpected, that for a second you forgot to breathe.

Then, he leaned over, and you found his movement in the same rhythm. The first touch of the lips was hesitant, almost shy, but quickly evolved to something more. The accumulated tension exploded, and the kiss became deeper, more urgent. Your hands automatically went up to his shoulders, and you felt Kendall's fingers intertwine in your hair, bringing you even closer.

The breathing of both became irregular, the most desperate movements, as if months of frustration and unspoken desire were being resolved at that moment. Kendall slid her free hand down the side of your body, stopping at your waist and gently pulling you closer, eliminating any space between you.

You lost track of time, space, anything other than its heat and the intensity of the moment. All that seemed to matter was that, at that moment, you were exactly where you should be.

When you finally moved away, it was just enough for you to breathe. His eyes were still fixed on yours, and whatever you were looking for there, you found.

- It definitely complicates things. - His voice came out in a soft whisper, almost an invitation. You tried to mask the tension with humor, but there was something deeper hidden in the words.

- As if we knew how to live differently. - Kendall replied, with that smile full of irony and a touch of vulnerability that he rarely showed.

You couldn't help but smile too, but there was something in his eyes that made any rational thought disappear. Maybe he was right. Maybe complicating things was inevitable. But for the first time in a long time, you didn't want to think about the consequences. I didn't want to weigh the implications. I just wanted the moment, raw and sincere as it was.

Without further hesitation, his hands moved on their own, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling it back to you. The kiss that began hesitantly soon gained an intensity that made his heart race. Kendall, for a brief second, seemed surprised, but this quickly undone as he corresponded with an almost desperate urgency. His hands went up to your waist, firm, as if he wanted to make sure you wouldn't escape.

The sofa became too small to contain the energy that pulsated between you. He got up partially, his lips still attached to his, and pulled you along with him. Before you could even process, the two were standing, their bodies so close that there was no room for air between you.

His hands went down to your hips, instinctively guiding you towards the corridor. Each step seemed like an excuse for one more touch, a stolen kiss on the way, while the surrounding house disappeared in a blur of muffled laughter and deep sighs.

Along the way, pieces of clothing were discarded, left behind as a trail of something that no one would bother to collect so soon. His hands explored his shoulders, going down his chest, while he did the same, as if they were both trying to memorize every detail of it before it ended.

As soon as they arrived in the room, Kendall pulled you firmly against the door, his back pressed against the cold wood while he took his lips in an urgent kiss. The intensity was electric, leaving the air between you charged. The sound of panting breaths filled the small space between the bodies when he moved away just enough to face her. His eyes were full of desire, but also of a palpable vulnerability, as if he needed to make sure that you were there, that you were not just the result of your imagination.

Without saying a word, you reached out and turned the doorknob behind you, letting the door open slowly. The room was immersed in gloom, illuminated only by the soft lights that came from the huge windows and exposed the urban landscape, a dance of bright points and shadows. You crossed the space with a confidence that seemed to challenge you, your bare feet against the tile floor, the light fabric of your lingerie capturing the low light and highlighting every graceful movement of your body.

Kendall remained still for a moment, observing as if the simple act of following you with his eyes was a privilege he needed to savor. The expression on his face mixed fascination and desire, as if every detail of his trapped him in a trance.

When you got to bed, the impeccably arranged sheets sank slightly under the weight of your body. Sitting with your knees bent and your eyes fixed on him, you were a silent invitation. Kendall took a step forward, then another, each movement loaded on purpose, the discreet smile curving her lips.

Without haste, he climbed on the bed, his knees sinking into the mattress as he approached. The air around seemed to vibrate, and the tension between you was almost palpable. When you opened your legs, offering space for him to settle on you, the heat grew. He leaned slowly, his hands firmly on the sides of his body while their faces met again a few centimeters away. His breath was warm against his skin, his burning gaze as if the moment was something he never wanted to forget.

Kendall let the weight of her body partially settle on hers, the touch of their bodies warming the surrounding space. His perfume was unmistakable, a woody and sophisticated mixture that seemed to cling to the air, marking each breath. He took one of his hands to his face, his fingers sliding down the line of his jaw to his neck, as if he wanted to memorize every detail.

- You're unbelievable. - he murmured, his voice hoarse and low, as if the moment was something too sacred to be broken by words. His gaze was fixed on his, intense and deep, while his thumb traced small circles on his skin, a gesture that was simultaneously delicate and possessive.

You felt his fingers slide down your ribs, lightly touching the lace of your lingerie as if it were an obstacle that he still hesitated to remove, prolonging the anticipation. Your own restless fingers found their way to the back of his neck, where you played with the hair strands as you pulled him closer, connecting your lips again in a slow kiss, almost lazy, but loaded with a growing heat.

He reacted with a low moan, moving his lips through his as if he were getting lost at that moment. When the kiss deepened, his movements became firmer, his fingers exploring her body with a mixture of reverence and desire. He made sure to map every curve, as if he was trying to understand exactly what made you shiver.

You arched your body lightly when you felt his lips leave yours to explore your neck, the unshaven shaving brushing your sensitive skin while he distributed slow and provocative kisses. His voice came again, lower and almost like a whisper against the curve of his shoulder:

- Damn, I've waited a long time for this...

The words made something inside you vibrate. They carried not only desire, but also a kind of desperate need, as if that moment meant more to him than just physical proximity. Without realizing it, you pulled him even closer, as if it was impossible to bear any distance between you.

Slowly, his hands found the closure of his lingerie, hesitating for a fraction of a second, his eyes looking for his in search of permission. When you nodded with a soft smile, everything seemed to dissolve in a heat wave.

The world outside, the city lights, the time - everything disappeared, leaving only you two, lost in each other, as if that moment was the only thing that mattered.

As soon as Kendall pulled you closer, the control he seemed to have over the moment became evident. His hands were firm on his body, exploring every inch with precision and an undeniable intention. He wasn't in a hurry, but he didn't hide what he wanted either - you, whole, at that exact moment.

Kendall had her lips brushing her neck. His teeth lightly scratched his skin before he kissed the place, the heat of his breath sending chills down his spine.

And then, a moan that escaped from his lips was enough response. He smiled against his skin, a satisfied smile, as if he was exactly where he wanted to be.

The feeling of his fingers going down your waist made you arch your body, seeking more contact. He noticed your reaction and made a point of prolonging the touch, going down slowly, provoking you in an almost cruel way.

His movements were precise, and every touch seemed designed to provoke you to the limit. You found yourself unable to wait any longer, and your hands found their way to his chest, pushing him lightly so that he would lie down. He laughed low, a deep sound and full of malice, but he couldn't resist.

Your eyes fixed on yours while you positioned yourself on top of him, holding your hips against his.

You answered by leaning forward, your lips meeting his in an intense, almost fierce kiss. He growled against your mouth, his hands squeezing your thighs, encouraging you to move. And you moved, slowly and deliberately, pulling a low swear word from him.

- Fuck... like this - he murmured, his fingers digging lightly into your skin as you dictated the rhythm.

Control was in your hands now, and you took advantage of it, exploring his body with the same intensity with which he had explored yours. The nails scratched his chest, leaving small red marks while you made him lose his breath. Every movement was a provocation, and the way he looked at you, his head tilted back, his eyes half-closed and his lips half-open, only encouraged you to go beyond.

- You're fucking beautiful like that - he said, his voice choppy, the words escaping as if he hadn't even planned to say them.

The roles had completely changed, and now he was the one who seemed on the verge of losing control, his hands exploring his body shamelessly, trying to pull you closer.

When the climax came, it was intense, almost overwhelming. You collapsed on him, your face buried in his neck while trying to catch your breath.

For a moment, the room was in complete silence, except for the sound of the heavy breaths of the two of you.

You got off him, your muscles still trembling, and lay down next to him, feeling the cold sheets contrast with the heat that was still pulsating in your body. His chest went up and down as he tried to catch his breath, the silence seeming heavier than expected.

- Okay, maybe that wasn't exactly in my plans for today. - You broke the silence, the voice carrying a tone of lightness that contrasted with the intensity of before.

Kendall let out a low, almost dismissive laugh, but her eyes were still on you.

- I'm not going to lie... this has crossed my mind before. - He spoke like someone who confesses something without regret, the smile on his lips almost defiant, but still sincere.

You arched an eyebrow, opening a small smile while fixing your body under the sheets.

- Really? Pretentious.

He shrugged, his expression carefree.

- Maybe a little.

The silence returned, but this time it was comfortable, almost intimate. Still lying next to him, you approached, letting your head rest on his shoulder, as if it were an instinctive movement. The heat of his body seemed to attract you, and he didn't hesitate to put his arm around you, pulling you closer.

And then, you just stood there, with you leaning against him, while the slow movements of his hand helped dissolve any tension that still remained. Little by little, his breathing became calmer, his body completely relaxed against his.

That's when he realized that you had fallen asleep, the features of your face calm and serene. He watched you for a moment, his head slightly tilted to look better, and couldn't avoid a small smile. It was strange, but at the same time... it seemed so natural.

Kendall adjusted the sheet around you, keeping you close, before letting her head fall against the cushion. While you were sleeping soundly, he closed his eyes, letting himself be carried away by the unexpected peace of that moment.

The night passed silently, the city around the hotel gradually extinguishing while the darkness of the room remained constant. Sleep came easy for you, lulled by the warmth of Kendall's body next to you and the comfortable stillness that hovered between you. He moved a few times during the night, but never to the point of waking you up completely.

Now, the shy morning light began to invade the environment, gently illuminating the contours of the room. The sound of the cell phone vibrating on the bedside table was what got you awake, that insistent noise that seemed to echo louder than it should. Still a little groggy, you stretched out your hand without thinking, groping the device until you picked it up. With his eyes still closed, he answered automatically, taking it to his ear.

- Hello? - His voice came out dragged, the tone loaded with sleep.

- You're kidding me, right? - Shiv's familiar voice sounded on the other side of the line, dry and full of disbelief.

You frowned, still half lost, without immediately understanding the seriousness of the situation.

- Shiv? Is everything okay? Why are you calling me so early? - Your concern was genuine, but the words came out hesitantly while you fought against the fog of sleep.

On the other side, Shiv's silence was short, followed by a humorless laugh.

- Why am I calling you? You're the one who should explain to me why the hell you're answering Kendall's cell phone at seven in the morning.

And then, his mind finally cleared enough to realize what was happening. You looked at the device in your hand, the screen clearly displaying the name "Shiv" and, above, a generic wallpaper that was definitely not yours.

- Oh, shit... - you murmured, letting out a sigh while processing the situation.

On the other side of the line, Shiv sighed audibly, but the sound was not of relief.

- You're unbelievable... fuck. - Her voice was full of frustration. - Is he there?

You hesitated for a second, staring at the phone as if you could change the course of the conversation with the thought. But before he could decide what to say, Kendall, half awake, stretched out his hand and took the device with the calmness of those who already predicted this.

- Hi, Shiv. What's up? - His voice, hoarse and indifferent, contrasted with her clearly irritated energy on the other side of the line.

He got out of bed, dressing in one of the pieces of clothing thrown in the room, walking while talking, his expression oscillating between irritation and boredom. And soon the bathroom door closed with a soft click, leaving you alone in the silence of the room.

You let out a sigh, turning to the side and staring at the ceiling. You still felt the heat of the sheets around you, but now there was something more: the certainty that the morning would be much more complicated than you expected.

______________________________

masterlist

xoxo, bee🫶🏼

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sloanesallow · 5 months ago

Text

a work of art

Sebastian has a new hobby, and his girlfriend makes the perfect muse. Tags: MDNI, NSFW! This doesn't have sexual content, but it is very suggestive and sensual. Characters are in their 7th year and are 18. Sebastian Sallow x F!MC (Siobhan Sloane) | 1.4k words [Ao3] | [Wattpad] | [Tumblr Masterlist]

Sebastian doesn’t know what he’s gotten himself into.

Or maybe he knows exactly what he’s doing. It was his idea, after all. He isn’t the most talented artist, didn’t even know he was capable until he picked up the hobby to keep his hands and mind busy in the Quiddich off-seasons. But then Sloane discovered his stashed away sketchbooks, and after spending a significant time praising his work and questioning the human anatomy he’d gleamed from textbooks, all he could do was suggest sketching her instead.

Sebastian hadn’t drawn a live model yet, other than Ominis, who had no clue he was being used for references in the middle of the night with nothing but the Lumos-light of a wand. He isn’t too embarrassed to ask for help, but the fear of judgment makes it easier to keep his newfound pastime a secret. To his surprise, Sloane agrees to pose for him—nude.

Despite their blossoming relationship, Sloane remains shy about intimacy. They’ve explored—touched and tasted each other’s skin—but nothing more, not yet. Sebastian isn’t sure what they are waiting for, but if there’s anything he’s learned since meeting her, it’s to be patient.

Two days later he is in the Undercroft, one of the only places in the castle where he and Sloane can truly be alone, especially now that Ominis knows to steer clear of the hidden dungeon. Sebastian sits with his supplies, idly organizing the charcoal and putty and smoothing out a sheet of blank parchment. He’s already taken the time to rearrange the furniture, ensuring the lighting is as flattering as possible from different angles.

“I—”

Sebastian darts his attention to where Sloane is peeking her head out from behind a dressing screen, her cheeks flushed. He smiles, gesturing with his hand for her to step into view. “No need to be shy, sweetheart.”

“You’re the one with all his clothes still on,” she counters.

“I can remove them if you’d like,” he suggests with a wink.

Sloane shakes her head and for a moment Sebastian worries that she’s changed her mind. Before he can placate her with sweet words, she finally takes a tentative step from behind the screen and he sucks in a breath, grip tightening around the drawing board. The sheer chemise she wears leaves little to the imagination, his eyes flicking across her body as she moves toward him.

Sebastian feels the blood rush, the sharp heat that signifies arousal, and is suddenly very glad his lap is covered. He expected bare skin, but this is far more tantalizing. Sloane perches herself on the edge of the settee across from him, fiddling with the short hem of her negligee.

“Is this alright?” she asks, glancing down at herself. “I know I said I’d pose for you nude, but—”

“It’s perfect,” Sebastian interjects, face flaring with heat as his voice cracks. It’s hard not to appear overly eager, but it’s easier said than done when the singular object of his lustful desires is sitting half-naked just a few paces away. He clears his throat, his fingers trembling as he picks up a piece of charcoal. “I—I need to practice with clothes, too.”

Sloane shifts, her body stiff as if she’s never sat on a sofa before. She looks to him for guidance. “How do you want me?”

The charcoal snaps against the parchment.

“—to pose!” she quickly adds, her blush deepening and spreading across her neck and chest.

Sebastian tries to gulp down the tightness in his throat but it’s no use. “Can I…?” he trails, and Sloane shakily nods. Every muscle in his body is tense as he slowly stands, approaching carefully as if she might startle and run away.

“Lean back, and relax,” he instructs, tentatively guiding her, gooseflesh rising across her skin where his fingers brush. Sloane reclines against the cushions, the golden strands of her hair shimmering in the firelight. He gently grasps her wrists, lifting them to rest above her head. “Just like this.”

Sloane remains quiet, her grey eyes shimmering as they stay locked on his face. It’s reminiscent of the fascinated expression she wore when they first dared to feel one another skin-to-skin. She’s nervous, yes, but she’s said before that her love for him outweighs any other emotion.

Sebastian leans back to inspect the pose, his touch lingering against her knee as he adjusts her to accentuate the curve of her thigh. This close, it’s easier to see the pale pink of her nipples through the taffeta and the shadow of hair between her legs further down. He wets his lips, hungry for just one taste of her banquet.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, tilting her chin to expose her neck. He sweeps his thumb across her lips as they part with a shaky breath and he chokes back a groan at the slight touch of her tongue against the tip.

He’s half tempted to forget about the sketch and ravish her like he’s been yearning to do for months, but the last thing he wants is to take advantage of Sloane’s trust. Plus, the Undercroft might hold many a memory for them, but it isn’t exactly where he wants their actual first time to be. Sloane deserves a proper bed, flowers and ambiance, romantic confessions and—

Sebastian is getting ahead of himself.

With another gulp he pulls away, nearly stumbling back into his seat. He takes a moment to situate, carefully wiping away the smudge of charcoal on the parchment and nonchalantly adjusting his pants before glancing back up at his muse. He doesn’t realize how long he’s been staring until Sloane’s brow furrows in concern.

“Is something wrong?”

Sebastian snaps out of his daze, flashing a lopsided smile as he starts with a few simple lines. “Not at all, I’m just…distracted by the model,” he says. “You’re much better looking than Ominis.”

Sloane rolls her eyes, but a tiny smile forms on her lips. He looks up at her again, his expression softening. “You haven’t the slightest idea what you do to me, Siobhan.”

Her blush returns, brighter than before. There’s the tiniest shake of her head before she remembers to stay still. She surprises him with a quip of her own. “Perhaps a little.”

A comfortable silence settles between them as Sebastian starts to sketch in earnest, the concentration helping to quash the fire in his gut. The fire in the nearby hearth crackles and the only other sound that echoes through the Undercroft is the scratch and scribble of charcoal against the parchment. He isn’t sure how much time passes, but eventually, the shape of Sloane takes form beneath his fingertips and he slows to capture the finer details of her beauty.

“How does it look?”

The subtle strain in Sloane’s voice has him flicking his eyes to her face. Sebastian’s first-hand experience with sex and intimacy is limited, but he isn’t stupid. The way her pupils are blown and the rapid rise and fall of her chest are telling—she is aroused.

Merlin, Sloane is more patient—and perhaps more willing—than he realizes. Sebastian nods, taking a moment to inspect his work with a critical eye. He relaxes, beckoning her with a tilt of his head. “Take a look for yourself, love.”

Sloane stretches as she moves, shaking life back into her limbs as she pads over to where he is sitting. Sebastian smiles, turning the drawing board so she can see. He can’t help but slip his arm around her waist, gently pulling her down to sit in his lap. His fingers are blackened and leave marks on the delicate fabric of her chemise, but she doesn’t seem to care, too transfixed by the sight of herself on the parchment.

Sebastian presses his nose into the curve of her shoulder, inhaling the sweet scent of her soap and flowery perfume. “What do you think?” he murmurs between a trail of kisses down her neck. “How do you feel?”

Sloane breaks her gaze away from the sketch to look at him, one of her hands lifting to cradle the side of his face. She kisses him, lips soft and warm and lingering as she grins. “Like a work of art.”

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