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QT UK - Chapter 14 (Final)
🕑 Added 2024-08-18 18:02:28 +0000 UTCAnd here's the final version of chapter 14, also ready for Lit and to go in the collection here
*****
It was the second night in a row that Ethan was spending alone in his old hotel room, but this time, none of his partners had come to find him. The quick message he’d dropped into the Team’s whatsapp, asking for space, had been respected, but it was the other open chat on his phone that was stopping him sleeping. He’d tried messaging Aoife three times, each trying to find the perfect way to ask her to talk to him without putting on too much pressure, and each one had been seen within seconds, then left on read. She was back to giving him the silent treatment, and like always, he had no idea how much he was meant to worry.
Nia had appeared a little after dinner, and the careful words he’d rehearsed in his head to insist that he needed Aoife on the team had fallen apart again the moment he’d seen her. It hadn’t mattered how determined he was. Ethan knew that he’d never quite be in control of any conversation he had with Nia, but hearing her say that she’d just spent an hour with the other woman, trying to talk her through her issues with the vaccine was something he couldn’t have prepared for. Twice, Nia had been in a position to put someone else before the algorithm, and twice she’d done so at her own expense, and more than ever he’d been left appreciating how incredible she was. He’d wanted to try and find some way to show her what it meant to him, but she’d said she needed space too and while he gave it to her, he still couldn’t quite shake the feeling that it was just a screen for more self-sacrifice.
He had tried to sleep, eventually, but he was never going to be able to. Instead, the clock blinked past midnight, and he lay there watching the shadows on the ceiling as the rain fell outside, too lost in his own wide-awake thoughts to pay much notice to the knock at his door. He’d spent months living in a glorified dorm and become desensitised enough to the low level noise for him to write off the gentle tap as coming from elsewhere in the building, at least until it came again and he sat up as it was followed by a small but familiar Scottish voice.
“Hey Ethan?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you awake?”
Only Aoife could have asked him that right after he’d responded to her, and Ethan had to check the impulse to poke fun and tell her he wasn’t as he clicked the light on. Under better circumstances he’d have asked what she was even doing at his door, but in the moment he was lucky he even had the presence of mind to grab a t-shirt and some sweatpants rather than open it to her in nothing but his boxers.
The door swung open to Aoife standing there alone, face covered by a respirator for the short trip from one end of the hallway to the other. Her hair was dyed a freshly deepened green that had been combed out across her back, defying the need for her usual beanie, and that alone made her seem half as frayed as he was used to, although she glanced away as soon as she saw him, picking out a spot on the floor to study rather than look him in the eye.
“Hi Ballbag…”
Ethan’s presence of mind began to catch up with him enough that he had to work not to let his surprise at seeing her show, and sound as sympathetic as he could manage. “How are you holding up? I tried messaging you.”
“I know…But I needed to think. Get some of the shite out my head, and stop it gawpin’ so bad, you know?” She looked past him, and gestured to her mask. “Can we talk?”
Aoife wanting to talk rather than it having to be coaxed out of her was a better start than Ethan could have expected. He’d worried that the next time he’d seen her was going to be nothing but screaming and recriminations, and he hurried out the way of the door, bumping into the desk as he did so, his body clumsy with nerves.
“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
She unhooked her respirator as she entered, before stopping just inside the door to take in the clutter of used instant noodle cups, half-worn clothing and stacks of unsorted paperwork he’d previously been existing amongst.
“Come on, I’ve literally just seen your room, you don’t get to give me a hard time,” he tried to tease, but Aoife pulled a face and he couldn’t tell if the joke had upset her. It was odd having her there, especially given the context. He felt like a teenager again, tripping over his feelings, his mouth awkward with every syllable and he reached for a compliment before any sort of pause could work its way between them. “It’s weird seeing you with your hair actually done. It’s nice.”
She gave a shy smile and reminded him how beautiful she could be when it wasn’t strained. “Thanks.” Ethan waited for her to move further into the bedroom, but she hung cautiously by the exit. “I spoke to Nia.”
“She said. How did that go?”
Aoife gave an exasperated wave with both arms, animatedly blowing out her cheeks as she struggled to know what to say. “I mean, she’s a bit of a stuck up cow…but we’re probably more alike than I want to admit.” Her voice softened. “It helped.”
Ethan went to lean against his desk, but his attention was fixed on her and he missed the stack of budget reports that had precariously colonised one corner, succeeding in scattering them across the floor. Aoife smiled as he swore, before taking a couple of steps forward to help him pick up those which had landed closest to her.
“Were you really that much of a dork about getting me back?”
The inelegant way he was crouched down picking up papers likely influenced her choice of words, but, despite the way Aoife chose to phrase things, the affection in her tone was tangible and it was clear that she approved of whatever Nia had told her.
“I was probably worse than whatever she said honestly,” he replied, his head still down. However, as he glanced up, he realised how close Aoife had gotten, looking down at him, her face earnest.
“Can you say it? I want to hear it. From you.”
Ethan abandoned the rest of the documents where they lay. He stood, now the one looking down at her, only a pace apart, and their eyes met. “That I love you?”
Even the question was enough for her breath to catch, and she nodded.
“Aoife, I’m head over fucking heels for you.”
His pulse quickened and his words came out low and breathless, as if he almost couldn’t believe he was getting to say them himself. A swell of emotion passed across her face, although there was something bittersweet caught up along with it that caused her to press her blue eyes shut after a moment. Without thinking, Ethan reached out and drew his thumb across her cheek.
“I love you. And I’m sorry I was too stupid to let you know sooner.”
A small chuckle rattled through Aoife. “You are really bad at apologies, you know that?”
That was fair. After everything she’d been through, she deserved more. He stopped delaying and let his guilt speak for him. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry that I’ve put you through any of this and that I wasn’t brave enough from the beginning to just tell you how special you are.”
She smiled, but the strain had returned. “A little better.”
Ethan moved across the room, suddenly reminded of the pokemon plush he’d ordered as an apology gift, but never got the chance to give her, fetching the leaf-headed turtle creature where he’d left it in his wardrobe. “I got you this. The last time I thought you weren’t talking to me.”
Aoife took the toy carefully with both hands, studying its face as if it might look back. “You got me a Turtwig?”
“I knew you liked the green ones?”
“Grass types.”
There was a slight crack to her voice as she corrected him, although he wasn’t sure if he’d managed to stumble into something significant to her, or if the significance was simply because it had come from him. He’d never quite figured out what it was about the colour or that type of pokemon that resonated with her, but right then he didn’t care.
“...she’s a start,” Aoife mumbled, before disappearing into her own head, and Ethan tried to remember the last time he’d known for certain that her being quiet was a good thing. “You know you can’t just bribe me with gifts every time you upset me right?”
“Well, maybe I should just work harder not to upset you?”
She gave another barely-there laugh, too distracted for anything else, as she silently looked at the plush, and then past it. Ethan watched the moment where her thoughts slipped, wandering back towards something more serious, and saw her brow crease. Even then, he didn’t rush her, and waited for Aoife to speak again.
“Nia told me I’ve got choices I need to start making,” she said finally, her shoulders creeping inwards despite the certainty in her voice. “And I can’t just avoid them because I think they’re fucked, which I do. But the world doesn’t give a solitary shite what I want.”
“I care though.”
“I can’t have you to myself though, can I? Even you can’t give me that. But, I’d rather have some of you than none at all. Only…”
Reaching out, Ethan tried to take Aoife’s hand, only for her to pull away, as if his touch risked breaking something fragile, and he grasped at the air instead.
“I don’t know if I can do the rest of it right now,” Aoife continued with effort. “Project Upstart. Maybe that’ll change if I see more, maybe it won’t, but for the now nothing’s different. I still think a lot of what they’re doing is wrong and I can’t just, I don’t know, see what it was like for people like Hayley and just pretend otherwise. That’s not me.”
As she spoke, it was clear how scared Aoife was that what she was saying might be a dealbreaker. She was always going to be true to herself, but the fact that she even needed to force her principals out past her feelings for him did more to tell Ethan how deeply she wanted this than any ‘I love you,’ could. He realised he’d been hoping that being honest with their feelings would magically fix every issue they still had, but then why would it? Everything was a compromise now. There had to be some people out there who were going to have stories about how well this had worked out for them and how every new member of their Team had instantly made everything better, but that was never going to be true for everyone. It was never their job to tell fairy tales and reality with Aoife was always going to be enough.
“Forget the project. No one is ever going to ask you to be someone you’re not,” Ethan insisted. “Not while I’m here. I promise.”
Aoife smiled softly, but there was enough behind the gesture to still ask whether the serum was going to let that be the case and she blustered rather than allowing herself to dwell on it. “And I’m not deleting what I decrypted. Unless someone wants to try and force me to.”
Ethan reached for her again, and this time she let him find her hand. “You don’t want that choice being taken away from you, I get that. I just told you Aoife, I’m not going to let anyone force you to do anything.” That included himself, and he paused, knowing that if he was going to be true to that there was one question he needed to make a point of asking, even if he already knew the answer. “You’re sure about it being me?”
For the first time since he’d known her, Aoife blushed, the pink tinge picking out a faint peppering of freckles on her nose which he’d never been close enough to notice before. “...yeah, pretty sure. 99%. 90 if I have to listen to your spotify.”
A short, honest laugh rolled out of him, taking some of the weight from the room with it and he was reminded of just how relaxed she was able to make things feel, a stupid joke from her all it took to make his world seem easier. He marvelled at her, slipping his arms around her waist and felt her press against him. Even that was enough to make any challenges seem worth it, and Ethan savoured the moment.
“I do want one thing though,” Aoife said, tilting her head up from close enough that it would have been the easiest thing to kiss her.
“Yeah?”
“Can I just have a night with you? Before anything else. No serum, no algorithm, no forced end of the world, apocalyptic bullshit.” She shied away and her voice turned self-conscious. “I want to know I got you, and that it was real. Even if that’s all I get.”
Ethan hated that that was something she even felt she had to say. He started trying to think of how to respond and how to tell her she deserved more, but then an idea began to form, and he let go of her instead. Taking a couple of steps, he retrieved his shoes, leaving her to blink in confusion as he slipped them on.
“Put your mask on, come on” he instructed, picking up her respirator and passing it to her.
“What are you doing?”
“You’ll see. Trust me.”
It took her a couple of moments to get over her hesitation, tired and bruised enough from everything she’d been through that she didn’t seem sure if she was in the mood for surprises. He knew she just wanted to curl up alongside him, but his encouragement was enough for her to carefully fix her mask, taking a second to double check the seal before following him out the door.
The hotel itself was deceptively large. Various annexes and wings had been added over the years, blended in with the centuries old grey stone to add spa and conference facilities, with a waiting list for weddings rumoured to have been over two years long. When the NEBC had moved in, while the majority had been designated for production, Palisade had retained several of the spaces as perks for the staff, and access to the gyms, bars and social spaces on offer had formed part of the sales pitch that had coaxed many of them to join up. But as the idealism of early spring evenings on the terrace had disappeared, those facilities had been locked up and Ethan had barely spared them a thought except as a backdrop to memories of Evie and Aoife. It was the latter of the two women who had brought one particular room to mind however, and made a detour to liberate the key from the front desk, before leading her there.
Aoife only seemed to finally catch on when they reached the door, halfway down a nondescript hotel hallway and pushed it open. The room was small, just large enough to crowd in a dozen barely used couches, specially bought to match the blue of Palisade’s logo. They were arranged in three tidy rows in front of a large projector screen that filled the entirety of one wall while heavy blackout curtains still hung over the windows, shutting out the 24/7 light from the studios outside. Originally there had been plans to use the space as a theatre for a weekly movie night and there had even been talk of using it to screen the Euros football tournament, long before the event was cancelled. In reality, it had been used twice.
Groundhog Day. Ethan could still remember exactly what the second film was, although the memory of watching it was less vivid than one of how often he’d spent it glancing towards the girl with green hair sitting on the front row. He’d spent the following week dropping hints to her that she might want to watch the next one with him, without getting a clear answer, only for an email the night before to announce that restrictions on site were being increased, and the screenings were being put on hiatus. They’d ended up chatting from their rooms instead, and when Aoife had suggested streaming her own movie, they’d set the rhythm of their Wednesday nights for the next few months but had never managed to share it together in person like he’d hoped.
Pausing in the doorway, as he held it open for her, Aoife turned back to him. “Are we allowed to be here,” she asked, and even though her face was covered, he could hear her smiling.
“You hacked a classified drive and you’re worried about this being what gets you in trouble?”
Ethan gave her a light push forward, stepping after her. The sound proofing panels made everything feel impressively still, and as the door swung behind them, it closed the rest of the world out behind it. A computer sat in one corner, ready to control the projector slung overhead, and Ethan made his way towards it as Aoife removed her mask.
“What were we meant to be watching last time? We could put that on,” he suggested, booting the device, only looking back towards her when no answer came.
As soon as he turned, Aoife’s arms were around his shoulders and she craned up with a long, soft press of her lips against his own. The kiss caught him off guard, but he’d never been so happy to be quite so clumsy as he returned it, doing his best to steady himself against the eager rush of Aoife’s feelings, taking several seconds before he came close to succeeding. Closing his eyes, he drew her closer. Ethan had imagined what kissing Aoife would be like enough times, but when it came, she left his heart stumbling.
Eventually, she sighed, sweetly, and eased back to look at him. “Sorry, I just, you’ve no idea how much I wanted this.”
It was his turn to lean in and steal a kiss, not having quite been ready for the first one to end. “If I’d known a movie night was going to be enough for you to kiss me like that, I’d have broken in here months ago.”
Aoife giggled, fixing a strand of hair that had fallen across her face in her enthusiasm before giving him a sarcastic, “right,” not entirely convinced that they’d have figured things out even then.
“You know you do need to tell me what you want to watch first though?”
“We were going to watch Prince of Darkness last time, John Carpenter, you know, before you stood me up.” It was obvious she was teasing, but it still caused a pang of guilt, although it only lasted as long as it took for her to notice and give his hand a squeeze. Immediately the feeling passed, amazing him with how natural things felt, and although he considered apologising, he knew that right then, Aoife didn’t want him to.
They killed the lights. Sprawled across the centremost couch together, Aoife lay her back against him, and tugged at his arm until he wrapped them both around her. Dimly, Ethan had remembered that they’d previously had bags of supermarket popcorn handed out to them, and had found a small stash sitting abandoned in a cabinet by the computer, and had brought one over for them to share, but they barely ate half the bag. As much as Aoife might have claimed otherwise, their evenings like this were never actually about watching the film. It was always about the pair of them talking, and that’s quickly what they did, leaving the fight against anti-matter demons half-forgotten on the screen.
The conversation shifted from the first gigs they were going to go to (together) once the lock downs ended, to Aoife becoming animated about all the movies she was mad at being delayed. It briefly moved to Ethan’s partners, and danced around how they were going to make things work. And it became reflective when he realised how many of his Sunday League football team must have died, for the first time letting himself do something other than hold his angst at arm’s length. But mostly, they talked about nothing; discussing the same inane shit they had done for months, in the same old patterns, as if nothing had changed.
And then, suddenly, they weren’t talking at all.
In the screen bright darkness, Ethan wasn’t sure which one of them kissed the other first. Perhaps they both did it at the same time. But when they did each of the brief, testing touches of their lips grew longer than the last and quickly his tongue caught up with hers as they made out with the enthusiasm of teenagers doing it for the first time, hungry with the same disbelief it was happening. Aoife wasn’t like his other partners. She knew what she wanted, and she kept pushing him without escalating herself, almost as if every movement was daring him to keep going further, dealing in provocation.
Ethan drew it out for as long as he could bring himself, but eventually she was too much and his hand drifted, to grope Aoife’s backside, earning an approving sound part way between a moan and a giggle. She was shorter than Nia, not as slender as Evie or as toned as Farah. Her hips were a little wider, her curves slightly softer, but every stroke across each inch of her left him wanting more, and he roamed barely restrained across her thighs and stomach as they continued to kiss. In response, Aoife’s own hand braced against his chest, staying there only as long as it took to steady herself before snaking downwards. She slipped inside the waistband of his sweatpants, and found him halfway hard already.
The eager fingers teasing his cock caused Ethan to finally break away from the kiss, giving a breathy groan before shifting his weight and pushing her back against the cushions as he nipped at her neck. Aoife laughed again, somehow managing to keep her hand in place as she shoved back playfully and they fumbled with each other, causing her shirt to bunch up towards her ribs. Taking the opportunity, Ethan reached beneath it, lifting her bra as he sought the shape of her chest, only to stop suddenly as he found a cool loop of metal piercing her nipple.
He felt her hesitate in return, holding still against him for the first time since they’d started kissing, trying to work out if his reaction was a good one. His cock answered before he could however, stiffening fully with an appreciative twitch in her hand, arousal twisting in him hot and unexpected.
“You never told me you…”
Even in the darkness, he could see the gratified smirk that played across Aoife’s face. “It’s not exactly the sort of thing that comes up in conversation, you know?”
Ethan swore. He didn’t really know why his sexuality was wired to find that particular kink quite as appealling as he did, but he already thought Aoife was too good to be true, and the discovery kept dancing through his libido in little electric pulses. Gently, he rubbed the nub between his finger and thumb, teasing at the ring experimentally. Aoife gave a needy whine, keening over the sound of the movie, but pushed him away before he could do more. His arousal protested only to be silenced as she swung her legs across to straddle him.
Illuminated by the shifting light of the screen, Aoife reached for the hem of her top, peeling it away. The gesture was hurried, but she managed to slow herself as she unclasped her bra, guiding it from her body in a bashfully seductive motion before dropping it to the floor. Shadows decorated her skin. The second-hand glow flickered across her, giving the cluttered patchwork of cartoon designs and band logos tattooed across her arms a sense of faltering stop-motion. Those were the ones Ethan was familiar with, but he’d never seen enough of her to know about the headphone-wearing skeleton inked across her thigh or the stars printed up one side of her torso. And as he looked, the screen backlit the teardrop swell of her tits, each a little larger than he’d realised, with piercings glinting from on top of broad nipples.
“You really like those, huh,” she asked, leaning forward as if presenting them to him, despite an edge of embarrassment in her voice.
“It’s that obvious?”
Ethan eased his hips forward as he responded, giving a firm press of his crotch against her, illustrating just how hard and obvious his approval was in a playful attempt to shift the balance back in his favour. Aoife flustered, but she could tell he was toying with her and wasn’t about to back down, taking his hands and guiding them towards her bare chest as she talked.
“So where did you put the slider for that question on the survey?”
“I don’t remember, probably near to the end,” he lied, knowing damn well he’d maxed out the bar asking him to say how much he approved.
“Fucking pervert,” Aoife teased, only for her brashness to disappear into a sensitive gasp as he tweaked at one of the piercings in response.
“Do you really want to get into that? Don’t forget, your answers came out as compatible with mine. Or are you going to claim that was all bullshit?”
Her eyes drifted shut, her face creasing intently for a moment as he palmed and toyed at her tits, causing her breath to catch mid-reply. “Yeah…total bullshit…”
Despite his response to Delphi, Ethan had little hands-on experience with piercings like Aoife’s outside of a one night stand back in university, and took his time experimenting with her responses. Bending forward, he kissed and sucked, flicking with his tongue and nipping metal carefully between his teeth. He was careful not to be too rough, measuring the musical little exhalations she made until he thought he’d found the limit of what would be comfortable for her, only for her to chide him for stopping.
“You can be rougher. I’m not going to break…”
Doing as she asked, Aoife’s back arched as he pulled a little harder, groped a little firmer. Her fingers ran through his hair and he tested grazing bites on the side of her breast, his mouth leaving one hand free to work its way inside her underwear. They only stopped when he leaned into her enough that she attempted to put out an arm and steady herself on the edge of the sofa, toppling backwards when it slipped from under her.
She bounced on the cushions and, as Ethan fell on top of her, his head bumped up into her chin. For a second, he was worried he might have hurt her, until she started laughing, sliding an arm around him, holding herself to him as her chest shook.
“I said rougher, not headbutt me you fucking daftie.”
If any part of him had been worried that having sex with her was going to change the tone of his relationship with Aoife, it disappeared with the insult. Carefree, irreverent, easy; and as he jibed back, she couldn’t have put the complexities they were dealing with any further from his mind.
“You’re Glaswegian, what was I meant to think that you meant.”
Pretended to be indignant, Aoife rolled out from under him, dropping to the floor and half disappearing in the shadow of the couch in front of them. The tug at his sweatpants gave him a pretty good idea of her intentions however, and he raised his ass enough to help her pull them down. As his cock swung free, giving a throb of anticipation, he waited for another quip from her, but none came, just the sound of her breathing.
“No smart remark? You ok down there?”
She scoffed. “I’ve just seen the last dick I’m ever going to have for the rest of my life, let me give the moment some fucking gravitas will you.”
Ethan started to respond, but as he did, the sensation of her tongue running up the length of his shaft interrupted him, cutting him off from the first syllable. The noise he made instead only seemed to encourage her and she took to small kisses and strokes, working his dick without fully committing, her efforts uneven enough to torment him. She knew exactly what she was doing, leaving him twitching in frustrated anticipation, as well as somehow being able to tell the exact moment where he was about to protest, choosing the second before to slide him past her lips. He groaned, unsure whether the insult he called her managed to come out, or had just stayed in his head, and leaned back on the sofa as green hair bobbed in front of him.
It wasn’t the most practised blowjob he’d received recently. Once Aoife actually started sucking, she was almost more eager than he was, her restraint used up on teasing him and everything was a little too hasty and wild. But given the circumstances, he was oddly grateful for that. She already had him on the finest of triggers, with too much pent up towards her over months, then weeks, then days and minutes that would have threatened to spill over if she’d been doing much more. Even then, it still wasn’t going to take much. He wondered if the serum would let him keep going if he did, or if that’s what she was actually trying to achieve, but wasn’t willing to risk either being wrong. Instead it wasn’t long before he was forced to reach down, stopping her with a stroke of her cheek.
“Shit, ok. Aoife, you win.”
There was a final, slow, flick of her tongue across the head of his cock, one last push of his limits before she rose back up to kiss him.
“I could return the favour for a bit,” he offered, still trying to calm himself, but Aoife was already on her feet, unfastening her jeans, silhouetted by the film behind her. She shook her head.
“Later maybe? Right now I’m kinda sure I’m ready for that inside me…ok, really sure.”
Dampened panties fell down inked thighs, with just enough light for Ethan to be able to tell that she had freshly shaved, a neat strip of dark hair perfectly at his level. What he couldn’t tell was the shade of the hair, just that it hadn’t been dyed to match her head, and he realised he had no idea what her natural colour actually looked like grown out. Below sat a tucked in, almost shy appearing set of lower lips, and it was his turn to go quiet again appreciating the body in front of him.
Aoife rubbed a hand down her mound, the flushed need there demanding some sort of contact.
“Would it be ok if you did it from behind,” she asked, the admission of her preference leaving her embarrassed and her words almost mumbled. “I’ve always found it easier to get off that way. Must be the angle. Or something.”
Ethan nodded. “Whatever you want.” He got the impression there was more to it than just that and even if he was tempted to push her, he definitely wasn’t about to as she climbed back onto the couch, resting her elbows on the furniture’s arm, her arse raised towards him. Moving behind her he couldn’t resist bending down first, parting her thighs and spreading her just enough to run several strokes of his tongue up her pussy. Aoife’s head fell forward and she whined something about ‘fucking english dickheads’ that he didn’t quite manage to hear while her legs quivered.
Lining up behind her he eased himself inside, pressing deeper with each of several slow strokes until the base of his shaft met her backside and his weight bumped her forward. Aoife squeezed. She gasped. Breathed. And green hair spilt forward over the sofa arm as she braced against the cushions. She surprised him with just how vocal she wasn’t the moment he was inside her, expecting a stream of curses and utterances that didn’t come. The sweet little whimpers and exhalations he got instead with each stroke came out almost lyrical and she sighed her way through every steady roll of his hips. It was only when he paused to lean forward and take her hand with his own that any words came.
“Fuck I needed this”
It was odd going back to fucking without the assistance of the serum. Ethan hadn’t realised just how many of the little reactions and triggers he’d started to take for granted, or that his partner’s pleasure would build and peak along with his own. Everything was a tiny bit messier, a bit more imperfect, but then that felt fitting for Aoife herself. The flaws made the connection between them feel more real. It took a while to find her rhythm, an extra amount of care to slip in sync with her and she laughed with him giddily through the missteps. His chest pressed down against her from above, wanting her to feel him as close as possible and as he adjusted, almost stumbled into an angle that made her moan deeper and longer than before. She pleaded for him to keep going and he did, thrust by thrust, until she fell silent between keening breaths.
Ethan wasn’t entirely sure when she climaxed, just that when she whispered, begging for him to come in her, his body responded without permission. It let go mid-thrust, bucking him the rest of the way forward and pumped, spurt after spurt, as his senses shut off from anything that wasn’t the feeling of Aoife clenching around him. He’d noticed how much harder he came since being vaccinated, and the Gemivax didn’t seem to care if she was paired with him or not. And by the time his head cleared and he fell away from her, his seed had brimmed over into a slick smear across both of their crotches.
Neither of them spoke for a while. Aoife flopped against him, resting her head against his shoulder, keeping still enough when he placed his arm around her that he wasn’t sure if she’d fallen asleep. The film had long since ended. The projector idled, with neither of them having paid attention to the finale or closing credits and he was content to linger, heavy bodied beneath her.
He watched the shadow of her chest rising and falling, and did his best to accept that how he felt wasn’t something he was about to stir from as he ran his fingers through her hair.
Eventually, Aoife moved.
Drawing herself across him, she bent up and kissed his cheek before murmuring quietly. “Could you get the lights for me?”
It took another kiss and a ‘please’ to convince Ethan to pull himself away from her. The glare of the light felt less aggressive than he worried it might, but was still enough to leave him more aware of the stickier parts of his own nudity. There was a small station set up near the entrance with hand sanitiser, and he fetched the roll of blue tissue paper that sat there to wipe himself down before taking it back towards Aoife.
She was sitting with her back to him, surrounded by the discarded scatter of their clothing, her shirt resting across the couch in front, but he could still see that she was holding something, pulled from the pocket of her jeans. At first he thought it was her phone, but as he drew closer, he realised it was a dark case with a familiar logo. He knew Nia had given her a dose of Gemivax, but he didn’t realise Aoife had it with her. Unzipping it, the Scottish woman glanced up at him as a single syringe of cloudy liquid came into view.
“We don’t have to do that now,” he said, betraying the hitch of complicated feelings he got on seeing it.
Aoife shrugged. “I know. But it’s not as if it’s suddenly going to feel easier when I wake up either.” She dropped back against the cushion behind her, her arms sprawled across the seat. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head up towards the ceiling, and all of the tense, pressured energy he was used to seeing her with had vanished. It was his first time being able to really see her body, suddenly seeming more slight than before, the colours of her tattoos more obviously faded in the light. She was beautiful. “I think I’m ready now.”
“I thought you wanted an evening with just us,” he asked, offering her the roll of tissue with his final step towards her.
“I got what I wanted.”
She gave a contented smile, before taking the tissue from him to wipe away the worst of the mess from between her legs.
“The researchers that we’re in contact with at Averna keep telling us to stress that you need to be clean down there before having the vaccine. Maybe we should get you a shower before anything else.”
Aoife balled up the paper, turning back over the couch and tossing it towards the bin that stood near the sanitizer station, looking briefly smug with herself when her shot landed. “What’s the worst that could happen,” she dismissed, with superficial bluster. “It’s your jizz, it’s not like I’m going to suddenly imprint on someone else.”
Ethan sat next to her, but she slipped her hand into his before he could try and say anything more. Giving a nervous squeeze, she passed the case to him, and moved her hair to one side, exposing her bicep and the stylised guitar that was inked onto it. Taking the still sheathed syringe, he wondered why he felt so nervous and considered how she must have been feeling after everything it had taken to get here.
“I know you’re scared-”
“Please, just stick the fucking thing in me before I freak out and try changing my mind.”
There was no arguing with that. He gave her one final kiss, half an apology and lasting just long enough for him to tell her how much she meant to him. Then, under the low hum of the projector, he removed the sheath from the needle and brought it to her arm.
Aoife winced as he pressed the plunger.
*****
The beat had finally dropped.
Aoife had always liked the idea that your life could be told in lyrics, she’d just never worked out what sort of song hers was. But then as Ethan removed the needle, his eyes met hers and she felt a little closer to knowing.
..shaped by clearest blue.
For the last few hours, he’d made her feel more human than anyone had done in months and had confirmed what she’d already decided. That the one thing worse than trying to deal with the world right now was going to be doing it without him. And now there was no going back, she felt oddly calm about it, even if the atmosphere in the room had been left heavier by the interruption of the serum.
She’d dreamed about sex with Ethan enough times, her fantasies always tending towards hot and nasty as she indulged the more guilty parts of her sexuality, but she was glad it had been nothing like that. For months she’d been living off a diet of loneliness and bad hentai and this had been everything she needed it to be, even if she was so worn that her orgasm had been a snatched little thing that left her feeling like she owed him more. They’d have time for more, Aoife told herself, and right then simply being wanted was enough.
Ethan smiled at her, and her heart ached just as hard as it ever had.
She watched as he carefully set the vaccine’s case down on the couch in front, choosing to set it aside for now with nowhere easy to dispose of the needle. The action only drew more attention to the odd, taut feeling of anticipation that had been created, and after a beat, Aoife decided to address it rather than let it settle.
“So, what now?”
“I don’t know. It takes a little while for the vaccine to kick in,” Ethan replied, thoughtfully, before his expression became playful and he leaned towards her provocatively. “I suppose we wait until you’re ready to lie back and think of England.”
She knew he was trying to break any tension, and at a stroke he had done just that, the jibe too ridiculous for the proudly Scottish woman to take seriously. But that didn’t mean she was about to let it stand either. Balling up a fist, Aoife swung it gently at his temple, staggering him slightly with the surprise more than the force as she connected with his head.
Ethan made a sound that was half yelp and half laugh. “You did not just punch me!”
“You asked for it!”
For a moment, he seemed to try and come up with a witty retort, but when he failed, his response was to give her a swat on the leg, his open palm landing on the skeleton tattoo covering her thigh. The feeling of his hand smacking her did something to Aoife that definitely was going to require further consideration, but that could wait. Instead, she slapped his arm in reply as the brat inside her came out and she dared him to do more. Ethan grabbed at her, and she pushed back, their limbs tangling as they wrestled. She giggled and swore, her naked body struggling childishly with his, until he used his weight to throw her back and she bounced against the cushions. Even then it was only when he reached for her chest, teasing one of her piercings that he was able to get the upper hand. Climbing on top of her he triumphantly pinned her wrists to the couch with firm hands and held her until she stopped.
Aoife gazed up at him as she caught her breath, losing herself in the press of him above her, amazed at just how fucking perfect it felt to be beneath him like that. Their eyes met, and neither of them rushed to move.
“Why didn’t we do this sooner,” Ethan mumbled to himself, something approaching disbelief in his voice.
It was a good question, and Aoife didn’t have an answer that didn’t leave her feeling utterly foolish. “Dramatic tension for a 3rd act payoff?”
He laughed, again, insulting her tenderly. “You are such a dickhead.”
“Yeah? And?”
“And? I think I might sort of love you for it.”
Fuck. She wasn’t going to get tired of hearing him say that. Maybe not ever. Her body flushed, but it was hard to tell if it was due to her feelings, the serum or simply the fact that she still had his cum drooling out of her, and she was too tired to care.
“Ok, you are not allowed to just say that when you just busted a load inside me.” She could tell her expression had turned lovestruck, and for a second her pride told her she should hide it. But her pride was an ass that had almost stopped this from happening, and for once, she refused to listen to it. Instead, she leaned up, and stole his lips with her own. “I think I might sort of love you too.”
Ethan rolled to lie alongside her, slipping his arms around her to spoon her from behind, and Aoife heard herself sigh. She felt like she was blushing, with the warmth that she felt after he told her his feelings failing to pass as quickly as she might have expected, and she tried to work out if that was normal. Or the very pleasant hum she was still experiencing between her legs. Normal was admittedly particularly relative right now but even after several minutes, it refused to settle and she broke the silence they’d eased themselves into.
“How long did you say it takes for this thing to kick in?”
“Normally half an hour, maybe longer before it really gets going,” he answered, without moving. “Why?”
“No reason, just feeling a little weird.” He tried to let her go, but she caught his hands, and pulled them back around her. Sometimes Ethan was too nice for his own good, and she headed off his inevitable concern. “I didn’t say let me go dumbass. It’s not a bad weird.”
Ethan relented, staying where he was after a brief kiss of her neck. In any other circumstances, Aoife would have been more than content to have fallen asleep with him like that but she knew the serum and her body weren’t about to let her. Instead she closed her eyes and listened to his breathing and her own steady heart beats, occasionally punctuated by a lazy, familiar sort of conversation taken a line at a time. And as they did, she felt the sensation that was drawling through her crotch growing louder.
After fifteen minutes she started to fidget, rubbing her thighs together, hoping Ethan wouldn’t notice. After twenty it was all she could do not to hurry her hand down there, to help things along. And after another five that’s exactly what she did, only for the desperate brush of her fingers to find her clit more sensitive than she could bear and she yanked them away as if she’d been burned. This time, Ethan sat up.
“Aoife, you ok?”
“Yeah. No? I don’t know. Fuck, probably?”
It felt as if someone was holding her vibrator to her pussy, turned up just a little too high, and as soon as she tried to move, a spasm jerked through her and her legs clenched.
“Ooooh, shit. That’s…fuck. That’s kinda good. But also…”Aoife tried her hand again, feather light with her touch, and even that felt almost as much as she could handle. “Wait. No. That kinda fucking sucks.”
She tried to laugh, but it came out as a whine instead, as she rode another unexpected twitch of pleasure, lasting long enough that her chest refused to breath and left her gasping, wide eyed, when it finally ebbed.
Ethan looked concerned. Or at least she assumed he did, her eyes were too busy screwing shut for her to actually be able to tell. His voice, at least, was trying to be reassuring. “This has to just be the vaccine priming. Maybe because we fucked already. It could be reacting to the fact that…”
“Really. Not. Helping,” Aoife interrupted as she tried to find a rhythm to the sensations that kept running through her, but failed. She’d had the process of the serum explained to her and the idea of an orgasm as she ‘primed’ to a man’s precum had amused her and she hadn’t quite managed to make it sound real. It was a hurdle she’d get to when she came to it, she reasoned, but she was cursing herself for being so flippant about Ethan suggesting she cleaned up after their first round. The easy guess was that having some of his seed still in her as the vaccine came online was throwing everything off and she didn’t need him to explain that to her. Right then she was perfectly capable of identifying how badly she’d fucked up on her own.
She rocked her hips, straining absently as if there was something she might find purchase on, but it was no use. She shook and clenched, but she was too sensitive to help along, every attempt to tease things along faster almost leaving her sore. Gradually the feeling built, rising to the point where she knew she was reaching her limit. And then it stopped, refusing to go further but not letting her back down either.
Aoife’s pussy drooled, and her body edged her.
She wasn’t vocal in bed, never had been. She never seemed to quite manage to get more out of her lungs than whimpers when she was really into things, but what she was going through was enough for blathered curses to break through. Meanwhile, experimental touches revealed that the one part of her body she could bring herself to toy with were her nipples, and she pawed and plucked desperately at the piercings hoping to find some sort of release that refused to come.
“Ethan…maybe. Maybe you could try…touching. Gently.”
It was getting hard to tell how long she’d been feeling like this, and she was willing to try anything. The part of her brain that was still rational figured that if she was priming towards him then his touch might help, or that he could just find some spot that she hadn’t and jolt her out of things. But even the carefullest of strokes across her mons was met with the same unbearable goodness. Her head swam and she cried out.
“Ahhh! No! That…really dumb! Oh fuck.”
Ethan would later tell her it only lasted around ten minutes at its worst, but it felt a lot longer. Eventually however, the feeling eased. It had refused to let her actually cum, all teasing with no actual gratification, but it was with relief that she was finally able to massage her own aching pussy. Slowly, she worked her hand across her sweetly slick folds and tried to guide herself back down for long enough for her heartbeat to catch up. Only as she did, Aoife realised she was still more horny than she could ever remember being.
The return of her senses also let her appreciate how she’d ended up with Ethan cradling her head, letting her ride things out while running a finger in comforting circles across her shoulder. She opened her eyes, looking up at a face that couldn’t work out if it was worried or amused.
“If you tell me I should have listened to you I’m going to smack you in the head again.”
Ethan smirked, “wouldn’t dream of it. Think the worst of it’s over?”
She bobbed her head, green hair messy with sweat, and took a moment to sit up. As soon as she did however, she was on him, seeking his tongue with hers as she groped his cock, stroking, needily seeking to bring it back to attention.
“Mind if I go on top,” she asked, barely pausing long enough to mumble in his ear from up close. “It’s fucking mental how badly I needing you inside me right now. But after that I don’t know how much I can handle.”
“Sure, if you want to set the pace.”
“No. I really don’t,” she admitted, helpless to stop her thoughts wandering to the wet, depraved place her libido went when she was especially pent up. She wanted Ethan to claim her, for it all to be as rough and hungry and fucked up as she felt. “But my body’s probably not going to let me do anything else.”
His hands found her ass, squeezing briefly, before raising her up and moving her to straddle him. Aoife had barely even registered just how quickly he’d gotten hard for her again until she felt it press against her stomach but even that was enough to make her moan in spite of herself. The idea he could just keep going was deeply gratifying but even more so was that she was the one doing that to him and the thought of just what he was capable of sent a shiver through her. She tried to remain restrained, just in case she was recklessly attempting more than she could handle but, the moment his tip pressed against her entrance, any sense left her and she lowered herself fully in a single motion, taking every toe-curling inch.
Ethan’s cock had felt good enough before, but with the serum, it felt divine. Nothing had ever come close to fitting inside her quite as perfectly as he’d done with that single thrust of her hips. Every last inch felt like he was hitting a spot better than the last, and she squeezed without thinking, her pussy alive in a way she’d never felt before.
For a moment, she was glad she was in control, the thought of him moving or doing anything more seeming too huge to really contemplate as she draped herself over his shoulders and savoured the feeling. She’d never been this full, not just physically but emotionally too, and she came closer than she’d have liked to crying as the vaccine sent her hormones haywire. But it wasn’t enough. Aoife needed to feel it again, and she lifted herself up so she could plunge herself back onto him again.
There was nothing subtle about the way she fucked him, none of the posed eroticism of the heroines in films. She was past shame. Past composure or trying to draw things out. Rather, Aoife knew that the moment he climaxed, she would too and she chased it desperately. Moved as quickly as she dared, she fucked him in long, demanding strokes. Every so often she’d go too fast, and her body would protest at the memory of what it had just been through, just sore enough to slow her down until she found a ragged, hasty sort of rhythm. And when she did, Ethan began to fuck her back, driving upwards to meet her. It was hard to breathe, harder to think, but that wasn’t about to stop her, so she clung to him, shuddering hot little gasps until nothing mattered but the man she loved and how he was making her feel.
Finally, below her, Ethan came.
He groaned as his hips stopped bucking, and instead pushed hard up into her, straining as his cock twitched. For an instant, she felt nothing, just the dim knowledge in the back of her mind that the first shot of his seed had filled her coming oddly distant and abstract. As if her body knew what had happened but hadn’t quite caught up.
Then it hit her. Something warm and wet, aroused, too big for her to understand glowing in her core. By the time Ethan’s second spurt came, it had already grown, working its way up towards her chest. It pulsed. And her whole body responded.
The pleasure was like nothing she’d ever felt. It crashed into her like a wave and she strained, almost trying to brace herself against it as she waited for it to break. But it didn’t; it just kept rising until the tide was up around her neck, the rest of her submerged, floating helplessly in white sensation. And still it kept coming. Aoife tried to cry out, but all she could do was gasp, snatching for breath as she slipped below the surf.
She knew she was drifting downwards.
For a second, she clenched and thought about trying to swim. But found her limbs weak, and her mind weaker. Part of her wanted to kick, but she ignored it. It was too good, and it only got better the deeper she let herself fall.
It got darker as she sank.
Everything pressed tight and comforting around her. She had no weight down here, just the comforting swell of the feeling that had swallowed her up. Imprinting itself on every inch of her as she fell towards the boundary of who she’d been. Reshaping her.
She was drowning in it. But Aoife didn’t care.
With the last of her will, she turned; watching the lights dancing in ripples across the surface of her mind…
And somewhere above her
She heard her own voice
Echoing
