The pad of his forefinger runs up and down the shell of her ear, the movement repetitive and seeming nearly compulsive, like he can't help the motion. It's a comfort to the both of them and she likes that it's so repetitive, so natural a movement to him. She blinks into the darkness, slowly letting her senses fall in as she keeps pressed close to his bare side. It isn't odd for them to fall asleep curled together but they haven't often stayed quite so tangled and twisted up through the 3AM hour and that's about where she's guessing they're at, somewhere between middle of the night and early morning. Somewhere between slowly kissing him to sleep and stretching awake, rubbing between his shoulder blades to comfort his early morning grumping.
Brian would never still be tangled up like this after as thorough a fucking as she'd given Will just a few hours earlier.
Brian would just be exhausted and spread out, sated on the mattress like he owned each centimeter unto himself.
Brian, who had texted her a 'When can I see you?' that morning.
Then just her name an hour later, 'Kenzie?'.
And then a seemingly angrier 'You're ignoring me now? Really, Kenz?' in the afternoon.
But it... it doesn't matter. She's not seeing him again. Ever, if possible.
Not now. Not when Will is... well... he's Will. Sweet and affectionate, sort of a smug asshole but in a way she's found to be... inextricably sexy. Pompous and brilliant and bold, noble and moral and so intrinsically smart, so much stronger than he seems. Handsome and often a complete train wreck emotionally – one to match how absolutely nutty she can be in comparison. And she's considering the distinct possibility that she's gone ass over tits in love with him despite trying to put a proverbial wall between them that stands ten feet thick and just as tall as he is.
He keeps finding himself around it, over or under it, despite her. Even as she's tried to distance them.
For four months she's... she's been... frankly put, she's been putting another man between them.
But she keeps finding him pushed up against all her weaknesses regardless, pressing against them and not to poke or prod, but as stalwart support instead. And she doesn't quite understand why he wants to be with her, she's not worth the work he's put into being so good to her - even before Brian called her back and forth and before she did any of the things that she just should not have done. Will's so sure that she's something wonderful and she's so sure that he should just cut her loose.
But she also can't seem to tell him any of it.
She can't even seem to unclasp the words from inside her head and hand them in his direction, not when they're going to hurt him so fucking much.
And really... she's found that she just doesn't want to lose him. In fact, she's well terrified of losing him now, the very possibility of it is near excruciating. She doesn't want to give up what she potentially has with Will just to feel better about the fact that Brian Brenner is often nothing but an undeniably massive cunt. So she finds herself wedged in, tucked into his side and hoping that, Christ... just hoping that she can just let Brian go for once and for good, for always, and the only way she's going to be able to do that is with Will at her side.
Mac hums a heavy sigh into the feeling of his fingertips and unconsciously cuddles closer into his side, into the distraction and absolute affection, “Time is it?”
“Ssshh,” he shushes against her temple. “Early. Go back to sleep.”
“Did you mean it?” she asks with a quiet softness, her voice culled low and brushing up between them. “Last night?”
An affirmative and sort of lascivious sound hums itself up his throat in answer. “Every inch of it.”
“Will.” She's appropriately scandalized in tone. Rather, she gives him an appropriately scolding and scathing look, leading him right into that impish grin of his that lifts his jaw just a fraction higher, makes him look likes he's smack at the end of his twenties rather than forty-something. “You know what I mean.”
“Of course I meant it, Mac.” He extricates himself carefully, shushing at the disappointed noise she makes just to imply she should have some patience. Not that she has much most other times but when he's dislodged her from where she was curled up comfortable, her margin of patience measures at just around nil. She just pouts herself back as he presses into the mattress and draws up higher on the bed. “I'm calling movers in the morning. We're getting breakfast and heading to your place to pack.”
She's not entirely sure what to say, actually. So she huddles around herself and chews into her cheek, watching him as he stretches higher on the bed. “Will...”
He shifts up enough to lift his shoulders into his headboard, wedging the pillow up under the back of his head as she follows up after him. Both his hands pull at her in physical agreement, drawing her up into his chest while he tips his head and nods with encouragement. It only takes a brief nudging for her to get the hint, straddling over him as he kisses the side of her neck and carefully nestles his soft length between her thighs. Those kisses are small and light, fluttery almost. And she closes her eyes as they rise up to the underside of her jaw and press harder as they lift to her cheek.
“Right now it's you and me, babe. I want it to be an 'us' and 'ours' thing, y'know?”
She's never seeing Brian again. Simply put... he doesn't even exist to her now.
Not when Will McAvoy's just made her his... what? His girlfriend? Is that what she would be? Is that too sophomoric a term for it? Partner? Too... business-like?
“You should probably wait until I decide if I even want to live here,” she teases at him, meeting his next kiss with a nip of her teeth on his bottom lip, her tongue soothing peacefully after. “It's rather shoddy.”
“If this is shoddy then your place is a fucking hovel.” Will's hand lifts to scrub against the side of her head, tugging into her hair for emphasis as he near laughs. “Sleep now.”
MacKenzie makes a sharp and derisive noise, a quick 'pffft' between her lips before she nudges against his chest in annoyance. “I can't sleep yet, you lummox. You mean it? Like your girlfriend, then? Living with you?”
“I meant it, hon. I still mean it. I want you here. Not like my girlfriend, my actual girlfriend.” He seems a little strained by the explanation and she can hear the concern in his voice, the way his tone wavers nervy and not nearly as confident as he usually seems. It's nice to know that some days... God, some days he's just as emotionally wrecked as she is, just as agitated. “Now, please close your eyes.”
“Do I get a say in the girlfriend bit?”
There's chagrin all over his light features and she watches it go nearly boyish on him, so damn handsome in how innocent he seems. “Mac... I was seriously hoping you'd just accept that part without question.”
He's scared. No, not scared. Correction: he's terrified, blanched pale. And her teasing has him frozen up still as he questions her sincerity, his blue eyes panning gray. That visible worry sways her farther onto him, warms her movements as she kisses against his shoulder and lets her body go loose. He seems to relax slightly in answer, a groan coming up his throat as he tucks her closer.
“Have we met?” She stretches comfortably along the length of him, moaning pleasure into his chest as she her muscles seem to thank her by relaxing as well.
“Well?” Will tugs as her hair, both hands rising so that he can swirl the dark locks into a messy and twisted knot-like bun, his movements near silly and perplexed as he cups it against the back of her head and watches as she lifts her jaw to rest onto the back of her hand. “What do you think?”
“Depends on how it sounds.” She shrugs at him, his hands still holding her hair back as she matches his smile and blinks sleepily. “You say it. Let me hear it.”
He just snorts, near blushes from pale to pink as she teases him. “As in, 'Hi, I'm Will and this is my girlfriend, MacKenzie'?”.
There isn't necessarily any weight to the actual word. There's just subtle valved warmth in his throat, adoration breathing up from his lungs. It's the fact that he can't help the way his eyes slim and his fingertips twitch at a stray piece of her hair as he says the word, that's what gets her. He can't help but say it with tenderness and that, simply put, is exactly what makes her truly (madly) love him a little. Yeah... love him. A little. Maybe.
“As in,” she whispers, lifting her head and sipping a light kiss off his lips, “exactly that.”
“Is that a 'yes'?” Will's eyes widen up at her suddenly, and he's entirely awake again with a massive grin. His hand catches her hair tighter and she lifts her head into the light tug he gives. “Mac?”
“Of course,” she kisses onto his lips, “idiot.”
MacKenzie McHale is definitely trying to kill him, ever so slowly, and she's started this particular attempt by putting her mouth on his cock to wake him. It's only been a dazed hour or two since the last time they were both awake and it's obvious to him now that she's fussy tonight and can't sleep at all and that means that he definitely won't be getting any more sleep than he's already gotten. Something won't let her go back to bed and he'd thought that they were in a good place the night before so he doesn't entirely understand it, not really. He'd thought he'd done right, that she'd been pleased. He thought he'd made her happy.
Well... the sex said she had been, anyhow. Because it'd been fucking wild.
They'd crashed together recklessly and rough and she'd been the one to start it there and carry it farther. She'd started in on him with a bite and a lick against his throat, her teeth grazing down his bare shoulder and he'd let her lead them right into some righteously passionate fucking. Pretty sure he still has the welted scratches down his chest and across one hip to prove it.
“Jesus.” He jumps just ever so slightly as she does something wonderful with the tip of her tongue and the head of his cock while she rubs his thigh with one hand and squeezes on him lightly with the other. Her right hand is stroking up and down tightly, slicked by spit and pre-cum and he groans his thighs farther open, one hand toying into her hair while the other shifts the top sheet farther aside so he can watch her. “Mornin', sweetheart.”
She smiles as she lifts her head, still working her curled fingers up and down his length slowly. “Good morning, Billy.”
Her fingers rise from his thigh to brush against her mouth just before her tongue takes a swipe along pinked and swollen lips and he feels his whole body groan right along with his throat. “Fuck, Mac...”
She just meets his glance with her own brightening smile, bringing a grin up over his lips without hesitation. He swipes her hair back in response, twists it up in long fingers and holds it back from her face as he nods for her to continue.
And when she does his heart nearly stumbles right into the back of his lungs.
“So good to me,” he whispers gruffly, swallows so hard that he feels his throat click at him in protest. He's having a hard time getting air down into his lungs and his mouth has gone dry parched as she speeds up both her hand and her mouth and she's teasing the spot right behind his balls with her nails and the woman's a goddamn saint. A naughty little saint but, well... still. He can't remember the last woman who's just woken him up by going down and if he wasn't absolutely in love with her already he'd be well and truly fucked.
Her breath is warm after she loosens her mouth from around him and lets her tongue tour up and down the length. “To be fair, you were already hard when I started.”
To be honest, she's got the hottest mouth he's ever gotten his cock into so, all's fair and all that.
She sucks sharply against the tip and he jerks his fist in her hair, does his absolute best to remind himself that he's not an asshole and most women don't enjoy getting dragged around by the hair. And while Mac doesn't mind a little rough and tumble he's always, always, peripherally concerned by how small and slight she is compared to him.
“Oh, shit.” He's going to lose his shit, that's the thing. He's going to lose whatever little calm he may have stored up as restraint and he's going to grab her up rough by the scalp and come down her throat if she doesn't let him pull out relatively soon. “Babe, Mac, you gotta let me - ”
She purposely swallows harder, sucks on him and hollows her cheeks and he's so close to coming that he can't help the way his hips buck up and jerk in answer. She doubles the pressure of her tongue, bobbing her mouth deeper onto him even as she looks up at him from beneath dark lashes and fuck... fuck. Fuck. She's one the most beautiful women he's ever seen. She always has been and that's an absolute, it's immutable. He's never going to think any differently and he's still not sure how he's managed to make this moment actually occur in the real world.
He can't not come soon, though. Especially as her mouth slides off him but her tongue takes up swirling around the tip of his length. Her hand is stroking him again, tight and sure and swift movements.
And he sure as hell doesn't want to waste how good she's got him feeling. “I'm just gonna lose it, hon. I can't – if you want - ”
“I want. Yes, please.” she says, interrupts him so ridiculously politely, breathless as she stretches up him. Her hands are soothing, gentler than they were the night before as she pushes his legs down and straddles him. He reaches down to close his hand against the base of his erection, trying to stall himself up long enough to reach for a condom from the drawer.
She doesn't give him any warning, though. Certainly not enough time or the patient attention needed to put a condom on. She surprises him and she damn near utterly wrecks him for anything but feeling as she just settles down onto his length with a long and deep lunged moaning.
He nearly comes as soon as he's buried fully inside her.
She's so... oh, goddamn hell... It takes near a full half minute before he can even comprehend what's just happened. And it's longer than that before he's shaking his head at her in complete confusion. “Condom, Mac.”
“You don't need it. Tests were fine.” She's breathless as she wraps against his shoulders, purposely rubbing her breasts into his chest while her mouth searches for his, her kisses impatient and raking over his mouth mercilessly. She's more teeth than tongue and he near comes just as she sucks his bottom lip between her teeth and nips on it.
“But - ”
“On the pill,” she interrupts impatiently, her movements starting slow and then carrying strength as she finds a rhythm that she likes. Both her hands are pressed into his shoulders, nails digging at him as she rolls her hips. Her shoulders are thrown back beautifully and he watches her shake her hair out of her face with a movement that stops his lungs like they're seized still.
“You wanted to keep using - ”
“You don't need it, Billy.” More impatience before she kisses him strongly, her tongue forceful against his lips, running along his teeth. It's a demanding kiss that matches her equally demanding movements, her body moving faster. “Come inside me.”
He's had moments similar to this before, he thinks. Maybe.
Moments his world's been unspun entirely from its axis and wobbled just enough to throw his balance?
Though, not her asking him to... no. Did she really? “What'd you just say, babe?”
She laughs and hums heat into it, kissing him slowly before she murmurs it once again, pressed tight to his lips so he feels the words just as much as he hears them, “Told you to just come.”
He dumbly realizes that, possibly, her entire intent that morning had been exactly this moment – to get him to come inside her with nothing between them. Because, really, it's the thing that haven't tried and trusted in and they're both right there at the edge. It's one of the big steps they hadn't leaned into yet, despite STI tests and long discussions and, sure, they'd broached the subject a few times before but he hadn't ever pushed at it. He hadn't wanted it to become a point of contention, something she could use to say 'too far, too fast'. So he'd usually just backed off and changed the subject.
Maybe sorta like moving in together, actually. Or being absolutely, inexorably, exclusive.
Until the night before, at least. When he'd blown caution outta the fucking water by way of both exhaustion and frustration combined.
And she'd reacted to that in a far more positive way than he'd expected, actually.
And he assumes the morning is maybe his reward for being a masterfully attentive boyfriend. Yes, boyfriend. “Yeah?”
“Yes,” she hisses against his scalp, kissing her way down to the spot just in front of his ear. “Idiot.”
He arches a brow at her repetition and groans, catching her mouth for a sharply made kiss. “Can we please not make that a thing?”
There's nothing he wouldn't do for her, really. Not a damn thing he'd probably deny her.
He tries to take stock, maybe even consider something that would make him change his mind (that's a brazen lie, though, because he can't even fucking think, probably can't spell his own last name).
He comes for her, strongly, when and wherever she wants it. He comes for her, because that's what she wants.
He kisses her the way she likes and holds her curled up in his arms as she stills them up, locked together.
He damn well dies a little with her in his lap and love in her eyes and... oh, hell, it is love too.
The way she looks at him as her hands cup his face up toward hers - she can't seem to hide it anymore.
Especially not when she moans pleasure, her lashes fluttering shut and her mouth dropping down onto his softly.
“Thank you,” she whispers so intimately that his softening length jerks a little in response as she brushes their noses together. “Stay with me a minute, Will.”
“You're killin' me, Mac.” It sounds like a grumble but he's pretty sure that's only because his throat is dry and rasped, he's parched and panting and just trying to swallow air down, let alone having even a small conversation. “Just fucking let it happen, would'ja? I won't hurt you.”
He knows what imploring her sounds like and at this point he just doesn't fucking care anymore - not when it's obvious she has feelings for him and she's just too damn stubborn to admit them (except that he knows she's actually guarded and wounded).
She doesn't answer vocally, just wraps her arms tightly around his shoulders so that she can clutch him up closer.
And the sigh she gives him, the happy moaning she rubs against his scalp, it's enough for a moment or ten.
“Which muffin, babe?”
“Lemon poppy seed,” she murmurs drowsily, nestling her head deeper under his jaw as she clutches closer to his warmth. The wind is brittle and dry, sharply cold as it snakes and scuttles around them and past the corner coffee cart. “Please.”
His jaw turns just enough that he can set his chin against the top of her head. He's got the entire right panel of his woolen cashmere coat hooked around her and she's wedged up his side so tightly that he can feel her shift, her denim covered thigh angling deeper between his own as he leans his arm around her. He's content this way, the inherent smell of his MacKenzie up in his nostrils even as it's tainted with his own shampoo. The feel of her cuddling closer up under a shared coat on a brisk and dull grayed morning has him calmed, keeled even and on balance. Even the long line at the corner kiosk doesn't agitate him as much as usual, not when it means he gets to hold his girlfriend and possibly just kiss her slowly, languidly.
“Coffee too?” he asks, leaning down to tenderly take that kiss off her mouth.
“Mmm hmm” she hums into answering, sighing against his lips as he withdraws and she leans her head back down. Her arms squeeze tighter around his middle, wedging them closer behind a Burberry topcoat wall. “Please.”
“Is this gonna be enough to hold you over?”
“There's food in my fridge if not.” Her face rises toward his with wind-chapped cheeks and an effusive smile, one that drifts between them sensually and has him smiling back on reflex. Will just drops his mouth to hers, shifting his hips to center them more while he slips his tongue between her lips. He nudges her into stepping backwards once while kissing her, moving them along in the line even as he adjust both sides of his coat around her now. Her hands have found the bottom hem of his sweater, though, and he knows it's coming just about a millisecond before he hisses into the feeling of her ice cold fingers pressing against his stomach.
“Damn, woman.” He chastely kisses her again, playfully frowning down at her. “Don't be cruel.”
“Oi, William,” she mutters, pinching at his side with just as much pleasure and just as much cheek, “I've been kind to you all morning, have I not?”
He nods slow acceptance, blinking at her before his mouth runs off without any common sense included, “I'm in love with you, MacKenzie.”
Right... so he's got no fucking idea what precipitated telling her. Because he's been doing his best not to most every day.
Except that his heart had stuttered still as she'd simply smiled warmly at him in mid-winter bleakness.
Was really all it took to blind his sense of logic anymore, his MacKenzie stretching up his chest and grinning so sweetly.
“I know that.” Her palms both fan out to his sides, curving his waist amd squeezing to re-enforce her words. “You... I'm almost there, Will. Just... be patient, all right?”
“I'm just saying...” They're holding up the line while he lifts her face just a fraction higher with both palms against her jaw and he couldn't give a shit, actually. Not about anyone but her. “I can't stop it.”
“I'm not asking you to. Just... wait for me.”
There's nothing he wouldn't do for her, really.
And waiting awhile doesn't seem so bad just as long as she's the one he's waiting for.