OOM: Room 6620, #6

[the_gene_genie]

He knows he's probably in trouble as he drags himself up the stairs. He only went down to have a quick pint, and pick up some more wine. He's been gone about five hours now, he estimates, though it's really hard to care. Sitting on the garage floor after a scrap has left him stiff as a board, and freezing cold. The half bottle of Scotch - not to mention Guppy smacking him on the melon a few times - means his head's pounding. Everything aches, and he wants nothing more than to climb into a warm bed, and stay there forever.

But he can't do that. Enough of this. He's been trying so hard, but it's time to throw in the towel. He can't go through another encounter like that. All that's left is to tell her.

He lets himself into their room quietly, half hoping she'll be asleep but knowing he'd have to wake her up anyway.

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[the_gene_genie]

He gasps against her throat, no longer able to remember when they weren't doing this. He feels like he's been fucking her forever, and never wants it to stop. But she's pulling him along, and begging, and there's no way he can resist it. He thrusts harder, pushes deeper, faster and faster with her encouragement, barely able to catch a breath and not giving a damn. His voice is nothing but one ragged groan after another, louder and louder, drowning out the wet slap of their bodies coming together. He makes one attempt to curb his enthusiasm but it's hopeless; he's lost in rhythm, demanding now, forcing her along, wanting nothing more than to feel this connected until the end of days.

[lady_bols]

How can she tell him, how can she explain, all the mistakes she made, all the times she wanted to touch him, to kiss him, to tell him the truth of it all, no matter how crazy it sounded? How can she show him that without him, she is nothing? That she came back not because she wasn't ready to cross over, but because this is Heaven to her. That he is all she wants now, all she needs.

They're alive when they're together, like this, or asleep in each other's arms, or shouting at each other across the office. They're alive and nothing can take that from them. She knows, even if he goes through that door and doesn't come back for a long, long time, she knows that she'll always be with him. And he will always be with her. Under her skin, in her hair, under her nails, written on her bones. He is as much a part of her as her daughter ever was.

Her body cannot contain the fullness of this truth, and her nerve endings catch fire, her passion for him burning hotter with every thrust of his hips. There is no moment when she stops rising and falls. There is only the pinnacle, and she soars with him.

[the_gene_genie]

'Oh, God.



...oh God.'



There's no moment when he knows he's hit the peak. He just keeps going, tense all over, tendons cording in his neck and through his shoulders. Some part of him registers that he's coming, but it doesn't matter. He doesn't, can't, stop, and that raw cry must be from his own throat but that doesn't matter either. There's only sensation, and her body underneath him. There doesn't have to be anything more than that.

[lady_bols]

Her spine curls, her head thrown back in ecstasy, and she feels his voice resonating in her chest, her own breath, a keening cry, loud enough to be heard over the blood roaring in her ears.  Her heels dig into the backs of his thighs, keeping their bodies locked as she bucks beneath him, chasing that sweet detonation as it blossoms and unfurls within her.  Her nails bite into the flesh of his broad shoulders, the instinct to hold onto him too strong to deny. His weight on her body, the intense sensation of his breath on her throat, his power rooted between her thighs, hot and slick and glorious, pinning her down so she can't escape it. 

All she can do is cling to him. It's all she wants to do, in this moment. Never let him go.

[the_gene_genie]

He drops his head, actively pressing down to control the frantic jerking of her hips. It draws his pleasure out, already receding from sharp and bright, to the softer warm flush that spreads through muscle and curls around bone. He's panting hard, and registers pain where her nails dig into his skin. Not so much that he wants to object. The only thing he actually wants is to stay still, and remain in this moment. Forever, if possible.

[lady_bols]

She buries her nose in his hair, breathing him in, feeling his pulse, his living body all along her own. Her thighs ache, and that sweet pulse is still echoing along her nerves. Her breath hitches in her chest, and she swallows, pressing her lips to his temple.

Her hands release their white knuckled grip on his back, sliding up to catch his face, drawing it up to her for a kiss so gentle, so soft and full of promise.

[the_gene_genie]

He lets her kiss him; kisses her back, and looks at her face from under half-lidded eyes. He can feel his heartbeat like his skin resonates with it, like he's nothing but this mockery of life. For the first time, it doesn't seem to matter. It feels too good to care.

He doesn't know what to say. So he just turns his head, and rests his cheek on her shoulder, blinking at nothing. He can smell her from here. Still feel her.

[lady_bols]

She wraps him up in her arms, holding him close, her hands stroking through his hair.

'Stay with me. Just until morning. Stay the night...'

Her voice breaks, and she draws in a breath, holding it. And then letting it go in a long, shivering sigh. Surrendering to the reality of it all. Taken all at once, it's too much for one person to handle all on her own.

That's what she thought, her first night in Fenchurch, in that ridiculous black and white decorating disaster of a flat over an Italian restaurant.

And yet, here they are.

'Dinner will be here soon.'

[the_gene_genie]

He nods, drowsy but not wanting to sleep. Her touch is soothing, and her words bring reality back; the large, and the small. He's leaving her. And his leg hurts.

He stretches his neck an inch or two, and kisses her under her ear. Then eases himself to the side, out of her body and fully back into his own. Things hurt, but at least he's not cold any more.

[lady_bols]

She follows, as if she can't bring herself to stop touching him. She props herself on one elbow above him. It's hard to watch him pull back into himself, but she thinks she understands. Idly, she brushes a lock of hair back from his forehead.

They've been through worse, haven't they? Her lips twitch, and a sad smile emerges.

'I know just the thing.'

Gingerly, she rises, retrieving her robe from the foot of her bed, slipping it on as she moves through the room. A bottle of Scotch is retrieved, and a couple of glasses. She finds his cigarettes and lighter as well. She sets them all down on his bedside table, pausing briefly to touch his arm before moving away again.

She drags her hands through her hair, long and straight now, twisting it up into a knot at the base of her skull, disappearing into the bath. He can hear her moving about a bit, and then the sound of the bath taps being turned.

She returns, looking a bit more composed, a bit more self-contained. She pours them both a measure of Scotch, and settles at his hip, holding his out to him.

[the_gene_genie]

He lights a cigarette when she's in the bathroom, and thinks about nothing.

When she returns, he smiles and takes the drink.

'Ta, luv.'

He holds the glass and his fag in one hand, and rubs her knee with the other.

'You all right?'

[lady_bols]

She smiles at his touch, her gaze dropping for a moment before returning to his face.

'I'm trying to be.' She touches the rim of her glass to his and takes a sip, closing her eyes as it burns it's way down her throat. She doesn't look back to him for a long moment, and when she does, her eyes have that same dark intensity he should know by now.

'You know, you still haven't answered my question. My very serious question. The one you had to think about?'

There's a hint of levity in her tone, but just a hint.

[the_gene_genie]

It takes a moment to remember what she means. It's never been far from his thoughts, but everything that happened today pushed it away. He smokes in silence, reacquainting himself with his feelings on the matter.

'I don't know,' he says, at last.

'I don't know how it'd work.'

[lady_bols]

Her brow furrows for a moment, and she swirls the last swallow of Scotch in her glass, trying to keep her feelings on the matter measured and rational.

'What do you mean?'

[the_gene_genie]

He gets the impression he has to tread carefully here. It's always hard for him. But he'll try, because he doesn't want to spoil this.

'You said you asked because you didn't want me to forget you. But I don't think it works like that. Everybody forgets everything.'

He wants to forget so bad, it hurts. Not her. Just everything else.

'We found out the Security badge'll bring me back.'

[lady_bols]

She's shaking her head before he's even finished with his sentence.

'That's -- I'm sorry, that's not what I meant.'

She lays her hand over his, studying the way their fingers interlace. How different they are, how strange and beautiful.

'It's true, I don't want you to forget me. To forget -- this, what we have. But that's not why I want -- I mean, maybe that's why I asked you then, but it's not why -- It's not why I'm still asking.'

She babbles when she's nervous. And he's always had a way of making her feel like she's a bit of a mess. She was never this way before Fenchurch, she thinks. (She was, but she never had anyone who cared enough to look close enough to see the cracks.)

'I don't know, maybe it's old-fashioned...'

[the_gene_genie]

He finishes his cigarette, and grinds it out.

'If you've changed it to wanting it 'cos of-'

He doesn't know where he was going with that. Not if he's still treading carefully. His eyes close.


Then open.



'It's my job to ask.'

[lady_bols]

That gives her pause. Her chest feels tight, and her mouth has gone dry all of a sudden.

'Well, go on then.'

[the_gene_genie]

Oh God, what the hell just happened?





'I didn't say I was going to.'

[lady_bols]

'Oh.'

Well, she should have known as much.

'Well, I did. Beat you to the punch, twice now.'

If he doesn't know by now how much he means to her, how much she wants this, then no amount of babbling on and on about her reasons is going to bridge that divide. He know she came back for him. He knows she'd go to the ends of the universe for him. But she's never been good at waiting.

'What did you mean, you didn't know how it would work?'

[the_gene_genie]

He scrubs an eye with the heel of his hand, and tries to think.

'I don't know. I've never lived in more than one world before. How am I supposed to know whether things would change? I'm trying not to break stuff.'

[lady_bols]

Again, her brow furrows.

'I'm sorry, I don't understand. I don't see how you and I getting married would break anything.'

She has no idea what he's worried about.

[the_gene_genie]

'You mean, apart from the way in which you're supposed to have moved on and not be in my life any more? You can't come back to live with me. I can't live here all the time. I don't know how me going between here and there all the time is going to work, let alone if we-'

He breaks off, and looks away. This is all true, but it's not the main reason he's hesitating.


'Alex, we've barely been together ten days. We've spent literally all that time dealing with the fact that we're dead. It's not a basis for marriage.'

[lady_bols]

Her lower lip juts out as he talks, and then he gets to the crux of the matter. She licks her lips, her gaze focused very intently on the backs of their hands.

'We've only been together as a couple for a few days. But there's more to this,' her hand squeezes his, 'than that.'

'All right, maybe you're right. Maybe this isn't the right time.' Her eyes close, and her lips thin as she chokes down a wave of emotion.

'At least you could...' Again, her voice evaporates on her lips, and she holds herself very still. As if even the slightest breeze might cause her to crumble to dust.

[the_gene_genie]

'...what?'