Fear Itself

His house was enormous, so much so that I feared I would get lost in it (much like when I wandered my own house as a child), but he showed me where things were, and I stuck to places he showed me: mainly the living room (and adjacent kitchen), the bathroom, and the guest bed I was going to sleep in. I took advantage of the shower while I was there, for the most part, we spent the day doing nothing. He showed me the television (and I was utterly fascinated by all the trash television and staged drama broadcasted on it) and showed me how much Winston loved watched shows about animals. I brought Ralph with me, and he took to sleeping on Winston almost immediately.

It almost felt like the day ended too soon. Being at Dean’s house was simultaneously as comforting as being at home and as eye-opening as a stack full of fresh, new books, but what I was learning at Dean’s wasn’t something you couldn’t learn from a book. I learned about television and what people liked watching. I learned that you could order food over the phone, and people would bring it right to your door. I also learned that some people (like Dean) buy enormous houses for only two people to live in.

I also learned that despite all of the fears I had overcome in the past few months, I was still absolutely terrified of thunder storms.

It didn’t happen until late at night. I think it was around two in the morning. For the first time awhile, I was enjoying a nice, warm bed in a home that had heat and didn’t make me shiver. It had nice pillows and blankets and everything I had at home, minus the obsessive, paranoid father. Ralph had curled up in the bed with me, clearly enjoying this as much as I was, and I slept like a baby, at least until that horrible moment, the moment that woke me up and had me shooting out of bed like a bomb hand gone off: the thunder.

I rolled clear out of the sheets, out of the bed, and onto the floor. I landed with a bit of a thud, but it didn’t stop me from scrambling to my feet and charging out of the room, down the hall, and straight through Dean’s door. I don’t know if I closed it (I think I did), but I was too frenzied to care. It took about seconds for me practically leap under the covers and cling to him, shaking and shivering like a cat that just got caught out in the rain.

“Whoa, Blondie,” Dean said groggily, rubbing a hand over his face. “What are you doing?”

“I think Ralph’s mad at me, but I don’t know what I even did wrong!” I stammered hurriedly, pressing myself tight against him, shaking all the same, and clenching my eyes shut. Dean shifted a little in my grip.

“How do you even know he’s angry?” he asked, still sounding half-asleep.

“Because it’s thundering,” I explained in a small voice. “Ralph controls the weather.”

He just snorted, laughed a little, and tried to roll back over. “I think you need to sleep, Blondie,” he chuckled, but another clap of thunder sounded, and I squeezed him tightly, squeaking and whimpering at the sound of the storm just outside the walls. “Okay, okay,” Dean relented, shifting back. “I’m awake. What is it?” I just shook my head, closing my eyes tighter. “The thunder?” he asked, and I nodded. “You’re afraid of thunder?” I nodded again.

“Thunder, and guns, and elves,” I explained hurriedly. He snorted.

“I’m sorry. What was that last one?” he asked, laughing.

“Elves,” I huffed. “Shut up. That isn’t funny.” He patted me on the shoulder, still laughing under his breath.

“Okay, Blondie. Whatever you say,” Dean chuckled, but more thunder roared outside, and I squealed again, clinging even tighter. His hand squeezed my shoulder, trying to comfort me, but I was shaken. I couldn’t get my mind off of it.

“I just want it to go away,” I whispered, hoping Dean couldn’t hear me. “If I don’t think about it, it will just stop. It will go away if I ignore it, and it will just leave me alone,” I continued whispering, but another clap of thunder broke through the air and had me squealing into his side again.

“Hey, Blondie,” Dean addressed me, breaking through my whispery little panic. My eyes blinked open, and I lifted my head to look at him before I shifted, sitting straight up.

“Huh?” I asked, and I barely had time to ask at all because he took my face in my hands and kissed me fiercely. For the first moment, I tensed, but the softness of his lips against mind soon had me melting toward him, leaning into him when my hands finally slid up his bare chest and over his shoulders. When I could no longer kiss him without breathing, I pulled back. My breath hitched in my throat when I tried to find air, and my eyes fluttered a little when I looked at him, and it took all I had not to mutter in awe and babble like an idiot. Instead, I asked a brilliant, “What?”

He just grinned at me, who was sitting there, staring at him without words or breath, and he chuckled. “I did promise that you’d remember our next ‘adventure,’ or so you called it,” he teased, leaning forward and kissing me again. I didn’t even have words. I didn’t question him, didn’t fight him, didn’t even want to. Lips began to part as we continued, and at one point, he put an arm behind my back and lifted me up a little, proceeding to lay me back gently on the bed. We went right back to kissing, my hands on his face, and one of his hands snaking up my shirt, currently discovering (and enjoying) that I didn’t wear my bra to bed.

Only for a moment did he sit me up and that was to remove my shirt. His kissed me hard as we both leaned back down. I was fumbling a little, not really of what to do, but his hands had no problem roving my now exposed skin, and soon I found neither did his lips. His mouth traced my neck to my stomach, left me whimpering underneath him, so frenzied I barely realized that he had tugged off my shorts and tossed them aside. He crawled back over me. I felt his weight on me when his lips met mine again, but I didn’t mind. In a way, it felt good, almost in a way I didn’t expect it to.

We continued like this for a time, and I was on sensory overload. I didn’t know what it was, but it felt fantastic. I didn’t recall ever feeling so good in my life. Every inch of my skin was tingling, and I was feeling urges I wasn’t exactly accustomed to, ones I couldn’t control, like the fact that my hips seemed to keep forcing themselves upward and rubbing against his while we kissed. He hummed a chuckle as we kissed. The fingers of his right hand hooked the side of my panties, and he broke away from me for a moment, leaving both of us breathing heavily. “Can these come off?” he asked me.

It took me a moment to process that question and what he was actually asking me. First, I had never been naked in front of anybody before. Second, if I was going to be naked, chances were he was going to be naked too, and I may have been naive, but I read books, and I felt the stiffness under his boxers when he was laying on top of me. I knew what being naked with Dean meant, and I knew that even though we tried desperately to tell ourselves we didn’t have sex that night we went to the bar, we both knew the reality. I was just going to remember it happening this time. I took a moment to catch my breath, and I gave him a nod. “Yes,” I told him breathlessly, nodding again. “Yeah.”

Just like that, there I was, naked in front of another person for the first time in my life, but he was still on top of me, kissing me, feeling me, and feel the slightest bit self-conscious. I felt like I was on fire, to be frank, but it was in no way bad. Nothing about this felt bad. Dean stopped as though he suddenly remembered something. “Hold on,” he told me softly. I was confused. Why was he stopping? Was something wrong? The concern must have shown in my face because he grinned and laughed at me before planting one quick kiss on my lips. “Relax,” he assured me as he rolled off of me, off the bed, and pulled his boxers off on his way into an attached room.

I heard some shuffling, and all I could do was lay there and think about the fact that this was actually happening. I had read about this happening in books, but I never once thought that I would be in this situation myself. I thought I would forever read about passionate acts like this, but I was laying on Dean Cassidy’s bed, fully naked, tingling with anticipation and excitement pouring out of every nerve. It almost seemed like an eternity for him to return, but when he did, he was fully naked (granted, it was just a little hard to take in that kind of magnificence is the dark).

He came back, hovering above me, and he kissed me again. He didn’t lay flat against me this time, just left a little bit of space. “Ready?” he asked me softly, eyebrows raised attentively. I chewed my lower lip and gave him a nod. He reached back, looping an arm under my thigh and carefully shifting me into what I assumed was probably a better position. He leaned forward over me again. Not knowing what else to do, I clutched his biceps and did my best to prepare for something I had no idea how to prepare for.

The pressure I soon felt was so immense I found myself gripping his arms like handlebars, and a breathy moan forced my mouth to open and my back to arch up. He stayed like that for a moment, waiting for me to get used to it, and my grip soon stopped being vice-like, returning to a normal strength. He started thrusting, and I didn’t quite know what to do. I thought about rocking my hips in time with his, but part of me felt this ridiculous fear that I’d knock myself out on his chin, so I laid under him, writhing, breathing heavy, and moaning, unable to keep my back flat against the mattress for more than a few seconds at a time, even though I tried. Instead, I wrapped my legs around his back, clinging and holding steadfast as Dean continued, breathing strained.

It was about twenty minutes later that the sensations shifted. The tingling sensation overwhelming me had grown with every passing moment until it was literally too much to fight off anymore. The pressure was intense now, building and building. I could feel my hips jerking, my chest heaving from heavy breath, Dean too was breathing heavy, grunting above me. It all seemed to happen in seconds. Suddenly the pressure seemed to burst and intensify. It was like a tickle at first, only it intensified by about a thousand in a matter of seconds. My body jerked, throwing off his rhythm, and he stopped for a moment as I moaned (quite loudly) until my breath just wasn’t there anymore and left me gasping. Seconds later, my heart pumped fiercely in my chest, but my breath returned, and I was left tingling from head to toe. Dean chuckled and kissed my neck. “That’s it,” he hummed softly into my skin before picking up the pace again, continuing, almost growling, until his hips jerked and eventually stopped when he groaned. I felt pressure again, not of the same kind, but even as he rolled off of me and laid beside me on the bed, the euphoric sensation didn’t pass.

“Wow,” I laughed breathlessly, eyes fixed on the ceiling, only turning my head when Dean chuckled at my reaction. I looked at him and gave him the stupidest grin I’ve ever given anyone in my life, but I was so giddy I couldn’t even bring myself to care. I chewed my bottom lip, smiling at him rather coyly, and he just smiled back, laughing under his breath. Then, I realized I had to pee something fierce and quickly rolled out of bed. “Bathroom’s over there, right?” I asked, pointing in the direction he had gone earlier. I grabbed my panties from his carpet and tugged them back on. I look over my shoulder to see Dean nodding. “Great,” I muttered before scurrying off toward it.

While I was in there, I found one of his shirts laid out on a nearby counter. In curiosity, I tried it on, buttoning it all the way down. I decided it looked nice, so I kept it, even as I came back to bed. Dean was under the covers, waiting for me, and when he turned my way, I thought he might have smiled, but it was still awfully hard to see in the dark. He furrowed his brows a bit and laughed. “I was going to wear that to work tomorrow,” he told me with a chuckle. I gave him a smug smile, shrugging as I sauntered back to the bed. He sighed a little as I crawled back to him, nestled beneath the sheets. His arm wrapped around me and pulled me close to him, and my face rested on his chest. “No matter,” he said. “It looks better on you, anyway.”

“Thanks,” I giggled, pressing closer to him, tangling my legs around his and draping an arm over his center. There was a small pause, and I looked up to him with a smile. “That was fantastic,” I sighed, slightly dreamily, slightly exhausted. He ran a hand over my hair. I thought he said something, but just like the last I found myself this close to Dean, I had fallen asleep to the sound of his voice, the beat of his heart, and the warmth of his chest, all of which seemed to magically drown out the storm raging beyond.