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Buried

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You wake up in the middle of the night, smelling smoke and - is this barbecue? Sitting up you feel for the light switch, hearing a whisper before you reach it.
“It’s me, babe. Go back to sleep. I’ll take a shower.”
You smile, falling back in the pillows. Since Juice stole a key to your apartment he comes by from time to time. At first one night a week. Now: Not always, but on a more regular basis, four to five times a week.
The lath floor creaks and the mattress sinks in at the moment Juice joins you in bed. You turn around, scooting in his arms.
“You smell like coconut and vanilla,” you smile against his chest, taking a deep breath.
“Mhm. Sure thing. Remind me to bring my own fucking shower gel with me.”
“You good?” You ask him, feeling tautness and stress exuding from him.
“No. Shitty day.”
“What happened? Wanna tell?”
“We’ve lost Filthy Phil and V-Lin. Hap and I burnt and buried them.”
“Oh, my god!” That’s why he smelled like – you feel suddenly sick – smoke and barbecue. “Burnt? Why?”
“Don't ask, that's nothing you wanna hear.”
“So sorry, Juice. I mean, I didn’t know them, but ...”
“Stop babbling, please, it’s okay.” He breathes, deep in, deep out.
In the light of a passing by car you see the pain in his expression. Just a second and it’s dark again.
“Baby?” He whispers, placing his warm hand on your ass.
“Yeah?”
“I really need to fuck you right now. That’s okay?”
“Kiss me and I’m all yours,” you smile.
In the moment his lips meet your mouth you’ve already lost your panties. He’s over you, hands on your tits, rough, fast and greedy.
“Juice,” you whisper against his mouth, “slow down, just a little bit, please.”
“Sorry, honey. Never fear, okay?” he answers hoarsely, kissing a trail from your chin to your belly button, “I’m just craving your warmth.”
His fingers find your clit and you feel more than you see how he gets rid of his boxers. You’re petting his back, his shoulders, and every square inch of his hot skin you’re able to reach. He’s fast and determined so your orgasm is not as intense as and shorter than you’re used to. You feel his fingers at your entrance, testing if you're wet enough to take him in. You spread your legs even more, making him groan in approval.
“Sorry, but I ... I need to be inside you. I’ll make it up later, promise,” he whispers at your ear and you place a kiss on his shoulder.
“Juice,” you moan only a second later, feeling the tip of his cock at your entrance.
“May I?”
You grab his head and kiss him but he breaks the contact.
“Babe? May I? Consent? Say it, (Y/N)!”
“Yes, consent. Fuck me, please, Juice.”
He’s rough and fast, way too fast for you to come again. It’s for him, to get rid of despair, grief and sorrow. He leeches on to you like he’s drowning, fucking you hard, making desperate sounds, so full of pain you wonder if he’s crying. As you try to touch his cheek he pins your wrists beside your head in the mattress.
“No, don’t. Don’t,” he pants, fucking you deep and ruthless.
In the moment his orgasm hits him he presses his temple against yours. You hear his heavy breathing and his mumbled pleading for forgiveness.
“It’s okay, Juice”, you whisper, embracing him with your legs while your hands are still in his harsh grip.
“This is the way a man should be buried in the night. Balls deep in the woman he loves. Not in a damn forest in a nameless grave. Chopped into pieces, burnt and unavenged.”
He tries to pull out but you stop him.
“Stay,” you whisper. “You’re safe. Try to sleep.”
“I’ll crush you.”
“No, you won't. Just stay. Please.”
You give him a sweet little kiss, bedding his head on the pillow over your shoulder.
“I love you too, Juice,” you whisper, buried under him, a few minutes after he fell asleep.

Chapter Text

It’s long after midnight but you can’t sleep. You’re lying on the couch, watching a documentary about the oh-so-bloody rites of the Aztecs. You shudder from time to time imagining the brutality and the horror the human sacrifices must had felt.
You screech frightened to death as Happy drops on the couch beside you. You didn’t hear him coming. Without a word he takes the remote and the screen goes black. You sit there in silence for about two minutes, Happy staring into space, you staring into Happy.
“Hey,” you say as the silence turns out to be too heavy.
“Shhh.” Happy shakes his head, gesturing with his pointer finger to his lips. “No. Fucking. Sound.”
You nod, watching this taciturn man who came into your life half a year ago. Your mother was ill at the time, had to stay at St. Thomas for weeks. She shared a room with Mrs. Lowman and you and Happy met each other nearly every day visiting both your mothers. On a Friday evening Happy brought some pizza and you four shared the food, having a few laughs. The rest is history. Now he comes and goes as it pleases him and you’re good with this arrangement. He’s not the guy you bring to a class reunion or to a 4th of July picnic with your best friends. But he’s there for you and he’s caring. Surely not the big love – from his side, from yours you’re not quite certain – but the sex is great and he doesn’t take advantage from you.
After ten minutes you’re standing up, gesturing to the bedroom. Happy nods and follows you. He’s freshly showered, his natural scent overlain by shower gel and aftershave. You know better than to ask and you guess that’s why he enjoys your company.
After a stop in the bathroom you climb in your bed, seeing Happy standing at the window, watching the street outside. He closes the blinds, leaving the room in absolute darkness. The rustling of leather and jeans tell you he’s going to join you in bed. You didn’t bother about pajamas you already know where this will lead.
“Turn on your right,” he whispers and you do what he wants.
He takes you in his arms, spooning you, his right hand on your left tit, over your heart, and his hot breath in your neck.
“Hap,” you start but he shushes you again.
“No. Sound. Ya see the dark?”
You nod, reaching with your left hand for his head, caressing his smooth scalp.
“Hear the silence. Dead silence. Like a grave. Absolute silence.”
Nodding again you feel his hands starting to roam over your body, he twists your nipple, carefully, not too harsh. You melt against him, lifting your left leg, making room for his already hard member.
“Not yet,” Happy mumbles. “Time. Endless time, absolute silence, impenetrable darkness.”
Closing your eyes, making the darkness even darker you follow his lead, giving him the devotion he demands. He’s gentler than you’re used to, slowly, tenderly. You’re holding back every moan, fighting hard to stay silent, to fulfill his wish. But you lose your fight in the moment he makes you come the third time in a row. Your orgasm is feral, all-consuming and so intense that you have to scream, you can’t hold it back. Trembling in his arms, pressed against him he enters you from behind while your pussy is still contracting, pulsing.
Happy’s making a hissing sound and a moan follows, low and muted. He doesn’t move while waiting for you to come down from your high, he's kissing your shoulder, drawing lazy circles around your belly button.
“Sorry,” you mumble, “couldn’t hold it back.”
“Not that for, baby girl,” he answers hoarsely and starts to fuck you with long, slow thrusts.
He takes his time, even more than ever, and you enjoy the first really slow love-making-not-pure-fucking with Happy way more than you should. You’re listening to his breaths, to the rustling of the sheets, to the scarcely audible sound of skin slapping on skin. One of the best nights you’ve ever had.
“Love ya,” Happy whispers after what seems to be a lifetime, pressing himself as deep as he can into you, shuddering.
You reach between your legs, feeling for his balls, petting them, eliciting a deep moan from him while he empties himself inside you.
“Love ya,” you answer and can’t fight the smile down, relieved about the darkness surrounding you.
A kiss on your neck is the answer and he stays in you, he doesn’t pull out.
“The darkness, the silence, that’s it what you have in your grave,” he whispers near your ear and you nod. “It’s not as bad as it sounds, right?”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Juice and I buried Phil and V-Lin tonight. The damn Irish shot them.”
“Oh. I’m sorry for your loss, Hap.”
“Yeah.”
“Soldiers, killed in action, accompany the sun from dawn to zenith.” You whisper, thinking of the documentary you’ve watched before Happys arrival.
“Said who?”
“The Aztecs. The soldiers are wandering from the dark into the bright light. Every day.”
“I like the picture,” Happy confirms. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“Everything, babe.”
You smile and close your eyes again, enjoying the grave-like silence, the darkness. And the warmth in your back, meaning life, meaning love. Happy.