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We're not even close to the last people to leave. Not even from the group I invited. It's still late though, well past 1:00 in the morning and my muscles are absolutely singing with the adrenaline of a good workout, the likes of which I only ever get from dancing. My blood is thrumming and it's only partially from the exercise; most of it, I know, is from the fact that I'm going home with a boy.

I'm going home with Jack Zimmermann.

Even now I can remember the warmth of him pressed against me on the dance floor, the brush of his breath against my ear when he'd whispered the promise of later.

It's officially later by a few hours now and even if I know I shouldn't be expecting the offer to still stand, I can't help hoping. Even if I can't even begin to imagine what sort of things Jack's had in mind. If anything at all.

"Did you have a good time?" I ask him as we head back to the apartment, hand in hand. The air is cold against my sweaty skin and I try to supress a shiver, just holding Jack's hand a little tighter instead. "I'm so, so glad you decided to come. I'm sorry if it was kind of a lot. My next birthday will be more subdued, I promise."

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"Mm, what have you thought about, mon chou?" I ask in a low, sultry tone, trying to distract us both from our obvious nerves. We get into the bedroom and I shut the door with my foot while pulling my shirt over my head in a graceful movement.

I turn us around so that I can sit on the edge of the bed and pull Bittle between my knees, hands curled around the backs of his thighs while I lean in to press a kiss to his flat stomach through his thin shirt. "Tell me."

It's far, far from the first time I've seen Jack without a shirt. But there's a big difference between seeing him shirtless in the locker room or the gym or swimming than in my very own bedroom.

I darn near swallow my tongue, staring as he sits on the edge of my bed.

He has his hands on my sides seconds later, pulling me gently to stand between his knees. My hands are only shaking a little as I run them up over his arms and shoulders and he leans in, his face pressed to my stomach. "Oh," I breathe, sliding one hand up the back of his neck and into his hair as I struggle to remember how to breathe. "Well, uhm. Back... Back when we were at Samwell, I used to think about you sleeping just across the hall from me and when... when I touched myself, I'd wonder if you were, too."

I can feel my face go hot as the words fall from my lips. It's not something I ever anticipated telling anyone, much less him and I suddenly wonder if it's too much already.

The admission is shocking in a way that sends heat rocketing down my spine, and my mouth drops open against Bittle's stomach. After letting out a shaky breath, I tip my head back and look up at him with wide eyes the color of a pending storm.

"Really?" I breathe out, sliding my hands up over the curve of his ass and squeezing, one cheek in each hand. I can't return the sentiment, not exactly. Jerking off was always just sort of routine for me, a necessary function. I never really thought about anything specifically, but I'd be lying if I never saw warm brown eyes or golden hair flash behind my eyelids.

I'm not sure what would be too much too fast, but I feel like something has been awakened in me. I want, maybe more than I've ever wanted before.

"Will you, uh--" I pull back enough to curl my fingers in the front of his jeans, popping the button with my thumbs. "Do you think you could show me, mon petit? I want to see what I was missing."

Jack's breath is hot against my belly, the holes Blue tore in it leaving absolutely no barrier between his mouth and my skin. I swear my whole body shivers as he looks at me, eyes wide and dark. Goodness, he looks hungry.

How do I get him to never stop looking at me like that?

My breath catches as he squeezes me, my pants already getting tighter by the second, especially when he slides those hands around to the front of my jeans, expertly popping free the top button. "Oh God," I breathe, swaying forward as all the blood in my body seems to rush south.

"Is that... You-- You really wanna watch that?"

I've never really thought about it that way, like a performance. When I pictured it back in the Haus it was always something we were doing together, furtive under the sheets, staring at each other across the hall or sometimes in the same room. Usually, I just pictured him, how he might look stretched out naked in his bed, touching himself lazily, the muscles in his arm and abdomen and thighs clenching and shifting with every stroke. In my fantasies, I've always been the one watching.

Swallowing, I manage a nod then. Because, as scary as it might be, there's something heady about Jack wanting to see that, wanting to see me.

I slide my hands down his shoulders and over his arms, squeezing firm muscle and soft skin. There isn't a single spot on his entire body I don't want to touch. "Can I watch you too, maybe? Or we could, uhm. We could do it together." And then maybe I'll know how to touch him if and when we get to that. It's not like I've had any practice on anyone but myself before and that's hardly practice at all.

"Oui, of course I do," I tell him, sliding his zipper down slowly and peeling the tight jeans down his hips. The front of his underwear is tented and my eyes are drawn downwards. I can't help but remember the last time that I did this, but it didn't feel at all like this. It didn't feel like this at all. "I want to see those soft hands at work."

A low breath escapes me at his suggestion and I nod, pushing his shirt up to press a kiss to his belly before sliding back further onto the bed. I nod and undo my own pants, wriggling my hips back and forth to push them down my thick thighs without ever taking my eyes off of his face.

"Yeah, Bits. We can do that," I breathe out, holding out a hand for him. "Come here, mon chou."

Heavens, Jack is undressing me. His hands are just as careful as they always are as he pulls at the zipper of my jeans and slides the denim down my hips. It's all I can do to keep breathing, especially when I notice him eyeing my erection. He doesn't say anything about it, which I hope is a good thing, instead leaning in to press a kiss to my stomach that has my knees wobbling all over again.

"Goodness, Jack," I breathe, my fingers carding through his hair as my stomach muscles flutter under his lips.

He pulls away too soon, but I have no complaints, my eyes falling wide as he works on squirming out of his own pants, revealing thick thighs and strong calves and... and his own tented boxer-briefs. Oh God.

Shaking a little, I nod and crawl onto the bed to join him, taking his hand as I settle onto my side, not wanting to look away from him for a second. "You're seriously like some sorta Greek god," I tell him with a laugh, letting go of his hand so I can graze my fingers along the curve of his collarbone, tracing the line of it downward before palming his firm chest and down his ribs. He's so warm and so big and I have to bite back the urge to just fold in close and rub myself all over him. "I can't believe I actually get to touch you."

It's not long before I have to take a deep breath just to try to calm down. Bits joins me on the bed, starts touching me, and I arch up into it like an eager cat. "You flatter me, Bits."

My accent is thick and I take a deep breath as I slide my hand up Bittle's thigh, up over his ass and the dip of his lower back. His skin is so soft, flushed pink, and I lift my head to press a kiss to his shoulder. My abs flex with the action just as Bittle's fingers slide over them, and I turn to kiss the side of his neck before lowering myself back to the bed.

I want him closer, so I take hold of his hips and pull him in so that he's straddling my thighs, that distracting ass of his settling down on top of me. Our dicks are nearly touching like this, cruelly separated by two thin pieces of cotton, and I can't help but to rock up into him a little bit. "You can touch me. *Je t'en prie, Bits. Please." *

"Not flattery if it's true," I remind him with a soft, breathless laugh as his hand smooths over my leg and around to settle on the small of my back. Just that touch alone is enough to send every nerve in my body on fire and when he leans up to kiss the side of my neck, my fingers trip over the dents and curves of his abs. It's hard not to shiver.

He moves quickly then, grabbing hold of me and rolling onto his back, pulling me over him. Laughing in surprise, I catch myself with a hand on either side of his head, staring down at he stares up. The sound dies in my throat when he rocks upward, his dick right up against mine, separated only by our underwear.

"Oh my God, Jack."

I have no idea what he's saying and I make a mental note to definitely add French as my foreign language course at Barton as I move one hand down to his chest, using him for leverage as I rock my own hips down against him. It's not like anything I've ever felt before, another boy's dick right up against my own. And not any boy's. Jack's.

The fact that he's hard for me is almost overwhelming and I lean down closer, biting my lip as I move again, my hands smoothing over his chest and shoulders. "I, uhm. I thought about this some too," I confess, surprising myself with my ability to form words. "Never once thought it might actually happen, oh my goodness."

It's been so long since I've been touched like this, and I spent so much time convincing myself that I didn't need it. That's all gone out the window now that Bittle is on top of me, rolling his hips against mine. I need it. I need him, and I let out a broken sort of moan as he touches me.

"It's happening," I rasp out, reaching up to slide my hands down his sides and then down into the back of his underwear, cupping his ass with both hands and pulling him down more tightly against me. I use my thighs to grip his hips and roll us over so that I'm top of him, pinning him to the bed, and my eyes are dark as I look down at him. I flatten one hand against his hip, fingertips sliding into the waistband of his underwear. "Can I take these off? Is that okay?"

Jack's huge hands slide down my sides, fingertips slipping under the waistband of my boxer-briefs and pulling. I can't get over how hard he is, how feels beneath me and, soon enough, I'm not lying over him at all. He rolls us easily, my back hitting the mattress and I feel all the air woosh out of my lungs as he hovers over me.

I can barely even breath, much less speak again, my eyes wide as I look from his face down to where his hands are slipping under my waistband again. Swallowing, I nod, my heart thudding triple-time beneath my ribs.

Intellectually, I know Jack has seen me naked already. I know he isn't gonna be surprised by anything that he finds. But I'm not sure he ever really looked, if even wanted to. He's never seen me hard and I've never been naked and hard in front of anyone before. What if he doesn't like it? What if... what if I'm somehow not what he's expecting and he changes his mind?

"No chirping," I somehow manage with as much of a teasing smile as I can manage, my hands shaking a little as I run them up over his arms again, curl over his shoulder.

Before I can move to slide his underwear down, I look at his face and realize how nervous he seems. His hands are shaking where they're resting against my skin and he actually seems to think I might be cruel enough to tease him, even after everything. I swallow hard and furrow my brow, sliding my hand back up to his ribs and leaning down to give him a soft kiss. Maybe I was rushing things, too swept in my eagerness to really think.

"We don't have to," I murmur, kissing him again and rolling onto my side to lay next to him, one arm wrapped around his middle to pull him close. "Not tonight. We can just do this, mon chou."

I don't know if I'm relieved or disappointed when Jack's hands still and he slides up to kiss me instead. It's a soft kiss, gentle, and I tip up into immediately, my hands falling to his bare sides, over the lines of his muscles before he rolls to lay beside me.

He's not pulling away at least, his arm still wrapped around my waist and I slip one leg between his, fingers trailing down the firm, flat skin of his belly, finding the little trail of hair just beneath his belly-button and tracing it.

"I'm sorry," I breathe. "I'm... I want to. I do, I promise. I'm just... I've never done any of this with anyone. And I really, really like you, Jack. I don't wanna mess it up."

"You have no reason to be sorry, mon chou," I assure him, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead before tipping my face down to smile at him. "I really like you too, and you're not going to mess it up."

I cup his cheek and thumb at the arch of bone, eyelids drooping a bit. "It's been... a really long time for me. Years. We'll wait, Bits. I have no problem with that."

"Years?" The surprise is probably evident in my tone and I cringe a little, my fingers still petting the skin below his belly-button. "Goodness, sorry, that came out really rude. I'm just... I'm surprised. I know people were basically beatin' down your door back at Samwell."

I let my fingers slip a little lower then, toying with the waistband of his boxer-briefs as I look up at him. "And I'm not... I don't really wanna wait on everything. If that's okay? I'm nervous, but I'm not scared. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather do this with."

"I guess," I reply, shrugging a bit. I never really noticed all the attention. Sure, I noticed some of it, but I mostly remained pretty willfully oblivious for the most part. "But, uh-- I haven't been with a girl since before I-- before I went to rehab. Haven't been with anyone since then. I just wanted to focus on getting better."

I swallow hard, lost in my thoughts for a moment, but Bittle's touch brings me back. A small smile graces my face and I slide my hand up his arm, gaze lifting to his face. "I don't want anyone else either."

Edited 2016-06-01 04:25 (UTC)

It's silly, maybe, but something about all that is calming. I've never once really imagined Jack as being promiscuous by any means, but I've always figured he has more experience than me. And he has, obviously. But maybe it's not all that much more. And it's been years like he says then maybe he won't be too disappointed if I do something wrong.

His eyes meet mine again and it's really hard not to just melt under that gaze so I shift in a little closer, my hand smoothing over to his hip. Leaning up, I brush my lips against his, mostly because I want to and because I can, sucking lightly at his bottom lip as I pull away again.

"So you've... I mean, I'm assuming you've done something with a guy before," I say, brushing my thumb against his side. "What was that like?"

I'm expecting the question, honestly. No one knows about me and Parse. Shitty suspects, but I've never confirmed it. The memories give me a lot of conflicted emotions now, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. Bad, mostly.

"Um. Just one guy," I tell him, swallowing hard and letting my hand slide up Bittle's side. "You know him. Kind of."

There, I said it. Bittle is smart. He'll figure it out.

That's somehow more surprising than learning he hasn't been with anyone in years and I'm not sure why. A few weeks ago I was convinced Jack was straight, but sometime between learning the truth and now, I guess I made some assumptions that are just plain wrong.

Frowning a little, I try to figure out who he might mean. My first instinct is Shitty, but his 'kind of' doesn't make any sense if it's him. That rules out everyone else on the team, too.

I really have no idea who it--

My hand goes still on his side, my eyes dropping wide. "Oh my goodness, Kent Parson?"

It's easy to see once it clicks in Bittle's mind, and I tense slightly when he says the name aloud. It takes me a moment but I nod, throat working for a moment before I can find it in my to speak. "It was a long time ago. Back when we were in junior league together. Before-- before everything.

"And it was just-- messing around. Usually when we were drunk," I go on to say. It feels good to actually talk about it. "And we didn't do, um, everything."

Somehow, when he explains it, it really doesn't feel so surprising at all. It actually sorta makes sense, even. I've known that Jack and Kent were pretty close, figured it out pretty easily after accidentally overhearing them during that Haus party. I hadn't really assumed they were this close though.

Swallowing a little, I nod, still petting his side and keeping my eyes on him. "Did you love him? Or was it... was it just about the physical stuff?"

It's honestly really not any of my business, but I can't deny that I'm curious. And I won't be upset if Jack doesn't wanna talk about it.

"No," I say easily, keeping eye contact with him. "What we had was... complicated. He was my best friend there for awhile, but sometimes I think that was just because I didn't know any better."

My brows furrow a bit and I shrug a shoulder before letting out a cleansing breath. "I might have loved him in some ways, but not the way that you're asking, no. I haven't loved anyone like that yet."

Yet.

That's a hopeful idea, I have to say. I'm pretty sure I know what I feel for Jack even if I'm definitely way too scared to say it out loud. It's different from what I felt for Derek and definitely different from what I ever felt for Simon. I know Jack in a way I still don't know either of them.

And even if Jack doesn't feel entirely the same way I do there's so much hope in that one little word.

"Do you think maybe he loved you?" I ask, remembering that conversation in the Haus I wasn't supposed to hear.

"Um." The question makes me frown, but I only have to spend a few moments thinking about it. "He didn't come visit me in the hospital. I almost died and he didn't--"

I shake my head and look up at Bittle again, shrugging one shoulder. "No, I don't think he did. Parse-- I don't really think he loves anyone but himself."

After a moment, I lift my hand to cup Bittle's cheek. I'm a little nervous, and I bite my lip before speaking again. "Does that change anything? Now that you know about me and Parse, I mean."

Even if I know some of the story of Jack's time before Samwell, hearing him say it like that nearly makes my chest crack open. I reach up instinctively to cup his face, petting along the side of his jaw as he continues. There's still little bits of glitter clinging to his skin, glinting in the faint light. It feels impossible to imagine anything like that could've happened to him, impossible that I might not have ever met him at all.

And the idea that someone could've have gotten as close as I have with him, closer, and not even gone to see him...

Jack's hand is warm on my cheek and he looks so scared for a moment, his teeth making a little indent on his bottom lip and I shake my head quick as anything. "Oh, honey, no. I mean-- if anything, it makes me feel better about hating someone I barely know, but it certainly doesn't change anything about how I feel for you."

Letting out a breath, I lean in then, just close enough to brush my lips against his, my hand sliding down to rest over the tender part of his neck. "I wish I'd known you then," I tell him, my nose bumping his. "I'd have come visit you."

My eyes fall closed when Bits touches my face and I reach up to curl my fingers around his wrist. No one has ever touched me like he does, and it's like a whole new kind of addiction. A healthy one. One that will help me.

"I know you would have," I say quietly, brushing my nose against his and kissing him softly. "But-- I'm not sure I would have wanted you to know me back then. I think you found me at the right time."