Status: complete;;

Right Now

I've Never Been This Far

Rolling onto my belly, I rest my head on my folded arms and stare through half-closed eyes at Liam, watch as he scrolls through his emails. I know there are loads of chores that need done at home and he probably has his own things to do, but I can’t be bothered to give a damn. Not when I’m less than a foot away from him, not when he’s stretched out with so much bare skin on display. He glances at me, grins. My lips curve upwards, and I stretch to press a soft kiss to his bicep.

“Sorry, I’m almost done.”

“No worries, babe. Do what needs to be done. Want some breakfast?”

“That’d be great.”

He pauses, bites his lower lip, and I frown then gasp. “Don’t you dare.”

“You haven’t burnt down Lou and Bri’s kitchen, so I guess I can trust you to cook in mine.”

I swat at his arm playfully and push myself to sit up. Stretching my arms over my head, I make my way across the room, pulling the door closed behind me. I grumble to myself as I search through the cupboards and fridge. There is an abundance of possibilities, but nothing sounds appealing - mostly because it means the longer I’m in the kitchen, the longer I’m away from Liam. Eventually, I settle on making two bowls of cereal. He can’t worry that I’m starting a fire on his stove if I don’t cook, right? Pain blossoms in my toes when I kick lightly at the door that I stupidly closed on my way out, and his laugh filters through the door, comes closer. An enormous smile splits his face as he opens the door for me; I slip past him and set a bowl on the nightstand on his side of the bed before carefully climbing onto my side. All I can hear for the next half-hour is the crunch of cereal as we chew and the occasional shout outside.

“What sounds good to watch?” he asks, setting his empty bowl aside, and I snuggle into his side with a soft sigh.

“I honestly have no idea. TV hasn’t been really a big thing for me lately, between work and Scrubs marathons with Bri.”

His brows furrow in confusion. “Didn’t you two finish watching it a couple of weeks ago?”

“Yes. But we restarted it. Again. We kept watching episodes without each other, so now we’ve signed an oath that it won’t be on the television unless both of us have our asses on the couch first.”

“I don’t know if you’re joking,” admits Liam after a long moment.

“I’m not.”

And I’m really, really not. The “contract” is pinned to the fridge at home, a second copy taped to the wall by the television. With the constant physical reminder of our promise to each other, it’s kept Brianna and me from watching without the other; it does mean, however, that we don’t get the chance to binge-watch nearly as often as before since our schedules conflict most of the time. I rest my head on his chest once he’s settled in beside me, relaxing into the warmth of his body.

Whatever show he put on is quickly ignored when his finger hooks under my chin, tilts my head back. It’s nothing demanding, just a soft, unhurried kiss, but it still sends my blood boiling in my veins. He doesn’t ask for more than I want to give, and I find myself wondering again if it would really be so bad to try. It isn’t a new argument - I’ve had this fight with myself multiple times in the last week alone - but I still don’t have an answer for that particular question. An admittedly large part of me is already on the ledge, waiting for permission to leap into the unknown, while another part shrinks back away from the risk of unfamiliarity. Even I can tell, though, that the larger part of me is close to winning. I’m tired of being afraid, of holding back because of fear or insecurity. I only need to figure out how to get those fears and insecurities to loosen their hold on me.

The room grows darker as time passes, and I roll over to glance at the time on my phone. It’s almost six in the evening. I huff out a laugh when I realise we’ve literally spent the day in bed, only getting up to use the toilet, get a snack or drink, or to brush our teeth. The majority of the time, we stayed in between the sheets as we watched awful reality television and cartoons created for kids. It’s been pleasant. Comfortable. Uninterrupted by life and all the demands of responsibilities, friends, the world outside of the room. Warm fingers glide across the skin of my shoulderblade, and I shiver as goosebumps erupt in the wake. I sit up, turning to face Liam, and catch his hand in mine. He shifts until he’s on his side and frowns in confusion.

“I... I’m sorry I unloaded all of that on you.”

“I’m not.” He squeezes my hand when I open my mouth to protest. “I’m honoured that you trusted me enough to tell me.”

“Well, it’s been - holy shit, it’s been about a year and a half since I met you and a year since we became friends. And we’ve been dating for almost five months. I think it’s about time I trusted you, right?” I joke, shrugging.

He grins, tugs me to him. I don’t even fight it as I get swept up in the taste and sensations of him kissing me senseless. Thoughts flee my mind, burn up with the flames that burst into life. His hands curl around my hips, and I gasp quietly when he lifts me into his lap; my legs automatically part to press against the sides of his thighs, and his arms hold me tight, so damn tight that I feel safe, secure, sheltered from the memories and demons I’ve been running from. Heat pools in my gut, spreading through my body, and my hands tremble as I cup Liam’s jaw. I push closer, my head falls back, and my lungs burn as I drag in a ragged breath. Sharp contrasts with tender, and a moan is dragged out of me at the scrape of his teeth against my throat.

I press my fingertips into his shoulders until my knuckles are aching with the pressure as I give up, let Liam push and pull, let myself drown in the heady weightlessness that’s overtaking me as my hips shove down against him. His hand slides into my hair; I tilt my head down to capture his mouth with mine, and he swallows the noises that escape me without permission. My heart feels like it’s bound to burst, and my head spins, but I’m prisoner to the high that I’m chasing. My breath stutters when his fingers skim across the curve of my ass, but I can’t stop, I can’t care about the fact that this is all so new when it feels so right. I bite my lip to stop from crying out as his hand slides down the front of my shorts, his thumb pressing gently in slow, steady circles. I yank my head back, my forehead falling to his shoulder as I ride out the overwhelming sensations that crash over me. His movements slow, come to a stop, when I let out a nearly-inaudible whimper.

“Holy shit,” I murmur once I can speak, my breath still coming out in heavy pants. “Holy. Shit.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, love.”

“It was amazing. Holy shit.”

He huffs out a laugh and kisses me softly, the sweetness at odds with the way I feel like I’ve just surfaced from a wild ocean. “Would... Do you want me to leave the room?”

I pull back and blink owlishly at him, confused. Then I realise he is still hard beneath me, and my cheeks go aflame as the implications of his question hit me with the force of a freight train. His eyes are gentle, and there’s a slight flush to his face, but I see no hint of demands. So I draw in a steadying breath and shake my head. His lower lip gets caught between his teeth, and I lean forward to rest my forehead against his. The words shake, stumble out of me - awkward, clumsy, but sincere.

“I wanna, uh, I wanna make you feel as good as you’ve made me feel.”

My skin feels tight as he carefully shifts me off of him so he can push his sleep-pants down his thighs. I bite the inside of my cheek at the sight of his boxers, tented in his arousal. He hesitates then reaches for me. I go willingly enough, curling against his side when he’s finished baring himself. My eyes flutter closed as his hand wraps around himself with a familiarity that sends ripples of embarrassment through me. His heartbeat under my ear is steady, and it emboldens me to at least watch as he strokes himself.

It’s not as awkward, really, as I thought it would be to be witness to this; my nerves make it difficult but I manage to trail my fingers along his thigh. I smile slightly at the way his breath hitches, and I take strength from how he’s evidently affected and explore over the silky skin of his cock, smooth and heated beneath my fingertips. His hand falls away, and I take over. My motions aren’t nearly as practiced or seamless as his, but his head drops back against the pillow, and he groans aloud anyway. A litany of curses falls from his lips as his hips pump up into my loose fist, his thrusts becoming jerky, stilted, after a few minutes.

I press a kiss to his ribs and move away. Liam laughs, reaches for the bedside table, and grabs a box of tissues from the drawer after turning on the lamp. He hands me a couple before getting to work cleaning himself up. I pad down the hallway to the bathroom. Washing my hands, I stare at my reflection in the mirror. Bright spots of red have taken up residence on my cheeks, and there’s a brightness in my eyes that I didn’t expect to see after - that. I giggle to myself but head back to the bedroom.

Liam’s dressed again, stretched out on the bed, and I hurry across the room and leap lightly onto my side of the mattress. His arms open instantly; I don’t hesitate, just cuddle into him. He turns off the lamp, and the room is plunged into darkness split only by the weak moonlight coming in through the window. It doesn’t take long for Liam to fall asleep next to me, but I can’t seem to get my mind to shut up. I don’t really know how I feel about what we did - sure, it was… absolutely wonderful while it was happening. Liam never pressured me, never asked for more than I could give, never forced me into doing something I wasn’t comfortable with; I know, without a doubt, that if I’d said no at any point, he would have stopped immediately and made sure I was okay. He’s proved himself to be that kind of guy so many times in our relationship. But it feels so odd to be able to think about sex in any capacity as a good thing, a tremendously amazing experience, after everything I’ve believed for so long. It’s almost impossible to bridge the gap between belief and reality. I decide to ignore it as the warmth and solid breadth of Liam’s body pressed to my back forces my muscles relax. I fall asleep to the soft puffs of his breath against my neck, my body lax and without tension, and the steady beat of my heart beating in time with my thoughts of just how much I’ve grown to care for Liam.
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title credit a real fine place to start sara evans