puckandpie | (no subject)

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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"It's usually not that fast," I find myself saying, and then I laugh breathlessly at the ridiculous comment. "I guess that's just what you do to me, mon chou."

I wrap my arm around his waist, pulling his arm down in the process so that his sticky hand rests against my hip. I feel so wrung out, oversensitive, and happy. After a long moment of reveling in it and doing my best to catch my breath, I pull back to smile slyly at him. "Looks like your birthday had a happy ending, eh?"

Jack guides my hand to his hip and I let him, relishing that cut of muscle as I grip him gently. We're all sweaty now and he's still trying to catch his breath and I feel... almost smug.

I never thought doing something like this could make me feel so powerful.

We're quiet for a few moments and when Jack speaks again, I nearly sputter on a laugh. "That was awful," I tell him, but I can't stop smiling, not even a little bit. Leaning up a little, I press a kiss to his lips, still tasting just a hint of myself there as I whisper against him. "But yes. The happiest, even. Thank you, Jack."

The joke was meant to be terrible, and I grin when it has the desired effect of making him laugh. He kisses me and I lift my hand to rest it against his cheek, thumbing at the bone as I kiss him back. I feel so content, like I could just lay here forever.

"Of course, Bits," I whisper back, sliding my fingers up into his soft hair. "I'm glad that I could be here."