I picked her body up, still kissing her, crowding her against my body. Her arms snaked over and under mine, one twining around my neck, the other resting on the fabric over my heart. I was walking blind, putting out one of my hands just before we hit the wall, the other hand flying up to cradle the back of her head, and when she leaned back against the wall she pulled me with her, crushing me against her-

What was she doing to me?

I felt powerful and helpless all at the same time. It was - beautiful. Terrifying.


I could tell her I love her -

No. That wasn't enough.

I love her, I want her, I trust her - I need her, I thought, and that still wasn't enough. I wanted to drown in the taste of her mouth, lose myself in the hollow of her hand, forget everything in the silk of her hair -

And I wanted more than that.

I don't think words work with something like this -

She was too far away. Our clothes added insult to injury, a reminder that we couldn't get too close, we didn't know what was going to happen -

But I wanted to get as close to her as I could. Under her skin, still soft from her shower. Into her mind, where her emotions softened the edges of things -

That's not all I wanted.

I wanted to be inside her. It killed me to know that when all this was over, she could be with someone else - a man, I thought, a human- getting married, having kids with him, some nameless face who'd never know what I knew about her, never know how the things she saw were so tinged and softened with emotion, never know how fearless she was, never feel his skin light up when she touched him -

I clutched her tighter and she moaned softly into my mouth, surprised at the suddenness of it, I think, and I just - I didn't know what to do. I lifted my hands and pressed them both against the wall, next to her shoulders, trying to get my control back.

I have to stop -

I can't stop.

She broke our kiss, taking a small gasp for breath, and murmured my name against my lips before kissing me again. Her hand left my back, soft touches trailing over my shirt and my shoulder, meeting the other hand resting over my heart. They stopped there, feeling the pounding of my heartbeat, and then her kiss turned soft, sweet -

And then, slowly, both her hands started to drop, drifting like feathers to the edge of my shirt, slipping under the fabric and rising again, her palms on my skin -

I tried to fight the shudder off and failed. Her touch was electric. Her hands were warm, so incredibly soft, and I knew without looking that they were glowing faintly.

Just like mine.

I leaned in to kiss her and fought for control when her mouth opened. She was so warm. Soft. Wet. Like a rainforest, I thought. Her hands were barely touching my skin under my shirt, hovering lightly, tracing tiny points of fire and light on my skin, tracing circles and swirls. I breathed her name and kissed her again.

I don't know what to do. I don't want to let her go.

I don't want to stop.

I increased the pressure on my hands, trying to lock them against the wall to maintain some kind of control, trying to be gentle when I wanted to be anything but gentle, I wanted her so much I couldn't think of anything else, and I had to stop -

I don't want to stop.

Her hands were falling slowly, slipping out of my shirt, rising to rest on my chest, on top of the fabric, and I felt her push lightly against my chest.

I don't want to stop -

I let her break the kiss, reluctantly, and leaned my forehead against hers. "What," I whispered, trying not to kiss her. She wanted to tell me something. "What, Liz-"

She pushed again, lightly, and I leaned back more. She was looking at me, her gaze flickering over my face. She smiled softly.

"You're beautiful," she whispered.

I felt my heart lurch. No one had ever said that.

No one would ever think of saying that.

What was she doing to me?

She wet her lips and took a breath. Her hands lifted from my chest and settled on her collarbone, resting a second before sliding down to the top button of her shirt.

My breath caught.

One hand tugged gently at the fabric of her shirt, while her other fingers circled the button slowly. Her eyes were downcast.

Breathe, Guerin -

The button slipped free under her touch and the fabric parted slightly, a soft dark sliver of her skin hovering under the pale shirt.

She can't be serious.

Her hand dropped lower, to the next button. I tried to pay attention to everything, the warmth of her breath on my skin, the fluttering of her hands, the light in the room, remember all of this -

She was going to stop. She had to stop. We couldn't do this. We'd never done anything like this, never even talked about it. We didn't know what would happen -

Her fingers finished with the second button and dropped to the third. I caught a glimpse of something dark blue against her skin.

I looked at her eyes, still downcast, watching her hands.

She wasn't going to stop.

Her fingers finished with the last of the buttons and the fabric parted further. The candlelight danced over her, illuminating her skin and what I now realized was dark blue silk -

- You look good in blue -

I could feel the light pulsing through my hands. I knew the light in my hands was making a pale outline of my hands. I didn't have to look. Not that I could move. I didn't dare. Her hands dropped to her sides and she raised her eyes to look at me.

She was making me choose. I was supposed to take the next step.

"Liz," I whispered. "We can't. I can't -"

She flinched slightly, looking down again.

"What if you get hurt," I whispered. Now that I'd started I couldn't stop. "What if - what if you get sick? Liz, if we start this - look at me."

She raised her head. Dark liquid eyes with flecks of gold stared into mine.

"If we start this," I whispered, "I won't be able to stop."

She blinked and turned her head slightly.

"You won't be able to stop," She whispered. She sounded surprised. "I didn't -" She shook her head a little. "I didn't know that," She finished.

My heart sank. She was listening to me.

Her hands reached for the edges of her shirt, no doubt to button it again. I felt like an idiot. She probably felt humiliated, embarrassed. Maybe she thought I didn't want her -

I closed my eyes, refusing the memory of her fingers pulling the fabric together, snaking the buttons back together. I think I want to -

I leaned in to kiss her forehead. "I want to," I whispered. "I want to. But we can't."

Closing my eyes just made me more aware of how good she smelled. Flowers and musk. I saw her standing in the shower, the hot water running down her hair, over her shoulders, drenching her skin -

Get a hold of yourself, Guerin -

Her hands were under my shirt again, pushing it up, just above my chest, her fingertips dancing over my skin -

We can't -

She lifted her face up to kiss me. I felt the warmth of her breath on my lips before I tasted the sweetness of her mouth, soft and warm. Disappointment and relief flooded my body. We'd made the right decision.

I wasn't ever going to forgive myself.

I let my hands slip down to her shoulders to pull her closer to me -

Her shirt was gone.

Liz -

She felt my body tense, ready to push back from her, and she pulled herself against me, her skin against mine, warm and soft and I didn't know, I thought, I didn't know I wanted her this much and now I can't stop -

My hands were on the small of her back, the heat in my fingertips trailing light across her collarbone, the soft swell of her breasts, the soft dark silk covering her skin, the curve of her hip. She arched against me, breathing a soft, sweet moan into my mouth. Her arms circled my neck and when I lifted her up her legs wrapped around my body -

It was all over. I was already lost.

I can't stop and I don't want to -

She really was fearless.

And I never was good at holding back.


He was carrying me to the other side of the room when I felt him stagger a step and curse softly. I clutched him tighter and smiled a little. "You okay?" I whispered.

"Great," He mumbled, leaning in to kiss me again. He must've slipped on the paint that still covered the floor.

His mouth left my mouth, moving to my neck, and I heard a soft moan escape my lips. God, where'd he learned to do this - I arched my neck, turning my head away so he could reach me better, my arms pulling him tighter against me. I felt one of his arms leave my back, sweeping the room before returning to my hair, and I knew the paint was gone.

"Nice trick," I whispered.

"Thanks," He breathed, his mouth coming back to mine. He'd turned around so that his back was to the couch.

I was kissing him when I felt his hands loosen their grip on me, just resting on my skin, barely touching my body, and I started sliding down the length of him, my legs still wrapped around his waist -

I gasped when I felt him, how much he wanted me. His hands caught me and held me there for a moment, then slid across the curve of my legs -

God, I want him, I thought. I didn't care what happened. I just wanted him -

His hands loosened his grip again and I was sliding through his hands, his touch warm on my hips, my waist, my arms and shoulders, tangling up in my hair when my feet felt the ground and I was standing in front of him.

He backed up a step and I clutched at him. I don't want to stop -

"Wait," He mumbled, "wait." His hands left me and he was fumbling with his shirt, lifting it over his head and throwing it in a corner. For a second I couldn't move, I stood there, breathing heavy, trying to get a grip on myself.

It was all happening so fast-

It's been happening, Liz. It's been happening for months.

He reached out a hand and touched the blue strap on my shoulder. I felt the warmth of his hands through the fabric.

"Nice," He whispered, his voice husky. His hand was warm on my skin. "Very nice."

I tried to breathe. "You like blue," I whispered.

He nodded. "I do now," he whispered.

I do now.

No wonder I loved him.

He stepped toward me, closing the little remaining distance between us. "You're not afraid?" He breathed.

"No," I said, hoping he believed me. That I sounded sure.

He pursed his lips and looked down, smiling a little.

"Yeah," He whispered. "Me too."

It was his first time too. It was so easy to forget that. He was so comfortable with intensity, and so - physical.

He leaned in to kiss me and his hand slid down, over the silky fabric. I tried to cut off the moan in my mouth. His hand was on mine, his fingers threading through mine, pulling me toward him and lowering himself on the couch.

If I never have anything else, I thought, my body on top of his, against the tattered, worn fabric of the couch, I will have this.

His hands were on my hips, in my hair, breathing my name, touching me everywhere -

I think I want to, I thought.

I felt his fingers sliding under the blue silk straps, tracing the skin beneath, slipping down, warmth and light filling me where his hands traveled -

No. Not I think.

I want to.

One of his hands drifted lower, tracing the edge of my pants, his fingertips warm on the curve of my hips, pressing me down against him and oh, God -

All or nothing. No going back.

I wouldn't trade it for the world.


I don't remember how long we stayed that way, her hair falling over my shoulders, filtering the candleight, while we kissed. I remember that she was the one who told me to wait, her fingers moving with assurance up to the blue silk on her body and making some kind of complex movement in front of it, like a secret password, and then it was falling from her body and she was clutching me to her bare skin with a relaxed kind of sigh, as if something were finally, totally over and she was happy about it.

I don't remember who moved to the buttons and zippers of our jeans first, fumbling with tension and hope and 16 years of expectation. I remember that she was wearing cargo pants, black ones, the kind with drawstrings, and when my fingers were too clumsy, too overwhelmed to undo the knot, she moved to help me.

I remember that she was smiling.


We were on the couch, under his blanket, his mouth on mine. He was so close to me, right next to me. It was perfect.

No. Not perfect. Close, but not perfect.

Once you enter that world...that sexual intimacy...everything changes.

"Liz," He whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. "I have to tell you something, but..."

I touched his face softly and looked up at him. "You can tell me anything, Michael."

He nodded. "Yeah," He swallowed once. "I know, it's just - not easy."

I reached up and kissed him, moving my hand over his heart, watching the trail of light on his skin. "Maybe you're not supposed to, then," I said, glancing up at him. "You don't have to tell me anything."

He nodded, studying me for a second.

"I think I know how to tell you," He breathed, moving down to kiss me.

I felt it then. The change in the air. The goosebumps on my arm. The same feeling I had when he kissed me the first time.

Everything was - charged. Electric.

His kiss was like a power surge. I arched against him, clutching him to me. He pulled away from me, hands on my face, his lips right above mine, his hand finding its way over my heart. I fought the urge to pull him into a kiss because I could hear him saying something, breathing something into my mouth -

"Let me inside you," he was whispering. "Let me inside you, Elizabeth."

Something inside me opened up.


My body was energy, I was flooded with warmth and light and he was looking at me, his hands cupping my face, was I alright yes and my love was surging, unbearable, unstoppable, waves of energy pulsing through my body, my heart, my emotions yes and he was absolute and unwavering and mine yes and I wanted to weep he was so beautiful yes and I deserved him so little and I heard his voice soft and warm in my mind yes and he said I love you yes I love you Elizabeth and I thought yes I would yes I will yes I am yes.


We both felt the shockwave build and crest and peak, more intense and stronger than before. There was no stopping it.

I love you, Elizabeth-

The shockwave crashed down, circling out from the two of us, rippling through the apartment, the building, the streets, taking out everything in its path. I held onto him as tight as I could -

It was over.

I looked up at him, gasping for air. I could hear my heartbeat.

"Are you alright," He whispered. "Liz, is your heart -"

"It's fine," I said, circling my arms around his neck, pulling myself up to kiss him. "I love you," I whispered, tears welling up in my eyes, hugging him as close as I could.

"I love you," He whispered. He pulled back to look at me. "You're crying," He whispered, raising a hand to my face to brush away tears.

"Liz -are you okay?"

"I'm perfect," I whispered, clutching him closer to me. "I'm perfect."


Chapter Index

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DC Slash Harry Potter Ros. Hetero Ros. Slash Ros. Other