I Might Be Holding Your Hand, but I'm Holding It Loose.

“You’ve been awfully stressed lately baby,” pouted Rebecca, massaging Brendon’s shoulders. He was perched on the end of the bed, her behind him, hand smoothing out the tense feeling in his upper areas that she assumed she was helping. It was the tense atmosphere, between the unloved and the downright wrong. Fate had not planned for everything to be this twisted.
“I’m sorry,” he sighed, leaning into her hands, her bent knees resting against his bare back. They were both clad in underwear; Rebecca with a tank top too.
“Want to talk about it?” she asked quietly, kissing his cheek, trailing her lips and further kisses along his jaw and neck, her fingers roughly prodding at his unforgiving skin.
He licked his lips and turned his neck to face her. He slid his calloused fingertips behind her head, pulling away her hair-tie, letting her locks cascade down. He looked her up and down cautiously, inhaling and absorbing her every pore. His eyes fluttered shut and he moved so their lips met at a simple touch, falling apart mere millimeters at the break.
“Brendon,” she breathed, gripping at his face, stroking downwards, ignoring the shadow that irritated her skin. “I want to tell you something.”
His eyes darted open. “What is it?” he whispered. She left the bed, leaving his touch, and fetched a small item in a packet. She tossed it on the bed aimlessly and his eyes widened.
“Oh, Rebecca...” he trailed off, feeling the size of a pinhead.
“No,” she smiled. “No, it’s okay, this is something I want to do. Once I’ve explained it’ll all make sense.” she nodded, sitting down next to him, creasing the sheets. He felt awful but he didn’t care enough; he was more concerned at how crinkled the sheets were than her feelings.
“We’re engaged, right? So that means we’ll get married, and once that’s happened, traditionally, the couple make love afterwards,”
“Yes, afterwards,”
“You’ve done this before. Have you ever done it with a girl who was a virgin?”
He shook his head. “I hear it’s supposed to hurt th- oh. Oh.”
“If we get my first time done with now, then on our honeymoon it’ll be enjoyable for the both of us,” she said, rubbing his thigh gently, watching him whilst he twiddled the condom between his fingers.
“I guess, but surely that would go against all of your beliefs? I don’t want you to regret this for the rest of your life,” he mumbled, knowing full well she wasn’t a virgin. The least he could do was have the decency to play along with her delusional ways.
“I’ll never want anyone but you, Brendon. I think it would be good for us, bring us together.” she urged, tracing her fingers up his arm, each little press of her tips edging him closer, making his skin scold with pity and desire.
“We’ve already been brought together, we don’t need to rely on sex to do that,” he smiled pathetically, standing up and throwing the condom back down to the bed. “Do you want some tea? I’ll make some tea. Decaffeinated of course, don’t want to be up all night, now that would be silly,”
She jutted out her bottom lip ever-so-slightly. “I get it,” she sighed. “You don’t find me sexually attractive. That’s the issue, isn’t it?”
“Oh, God, no, it’s not that at all,” he mumbled, admitting to defeat and slumping back down to the bed. “Look at you, you’re beautiful,” he smiled, cupping her cheeks and pressing a light kiss. “Those beautiful brown eyes,” he grinned, kissing her eyelids. “Adorable little mouth, perfect, slender body...”
His eyes drifted down to her chest and he couldn’t help but cringe. She was slim, sure, but she was everywhere. Her body ran straight down, which usually he would have no issue with, but it only reminded him of what he was missing. Emma was slim, but she had a woman’s body. She always had a distinctive scent, coconut and something else he could never quite decipher. Rebecca smelled... well, clean. Neutral. Something about her screamed displeasure and neutrality and fucking boredom. He wanted her to peel back her skin, tearing her lips over her body to reveal some disgusting creature. It would give him an odd sense of hope.

“You think my body is perfect?” she beamed, rubbing his arms again.
Go on, he thought. Tear back those lips, rip that flesh, disgust me, repulse me, send me flying. Make me run in revulsion, make me never come back to you and give me a reason.
“Of course,” he smiled and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, leaning in to kiss her, reaching around to undo the creature’s bra. A warm tear slid down his cheek as his digits traced her skin, ordinary, delicate skin. Tainted.
“I love you,” she whispered as she pushed him down to the bed, on his back. God damn this vulnerable man.
“I love you too.” he barely uttered, not once opening his eyes. He heard the rip of a packet and felt the removal of clothes, but he saw none of it. He heard the disgruntled moans and felt the pressure between his legs, but he saw none of it. He gripped and urged her, but he saw none of it. The pressure died down and the bed sank beside him. He saw that.
“Brendon,” she mumbled against his chest. “You have terrible grammar during climax.”