Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The subway doors beeped in warning and Charlie decided to make a run for it, his son in tow behind him as he huffed and puffed, forcing the kid to meet his long sprinting strides.

He had to wrestle through the closing doors last second, but they managed to get in. It got them a few sour looks from strangers on the train, but thankfully it wasn’t too packed. It might as well have been their lucky day, because as Charlie wiped at his forehead and pushed his fingers through his hair, the people next to them stood and walked away, leaving two of the infamous orange seats empty. He maneuvered fast, guiding the kid’s shoulders down on one seat and plopping himself down on the other. The bliss lasted only a few seconds, until he risked a glance at the obnoxiously expensive watch on his wrist. They were going to be fucking late.

“Dad, look!”

Charlie’s heavy eyes turned to the side. “What?”, he sighed, sounding deflated, defeated.

“She’s got tattoos in her hands!” His son murmured way too loudly, pointing at the person sitting next to him.

“Henry,” He scoffed, “Don’t be rude, you’re bothering the lady.”

Then Charlie’s eyes ventured higher, ready to throw an apologetic look at the owner of said hands. What happened instead caught him so off guard it left him speechless; dumbstruck, trampled by a sheer force of nature. He was staring at a rare, almost violent beauty, his eyes darkening and flickering with alert. She was show stopping, that much was obvious. He knew he should be saying something, anything, but his tongue felt like rubber against his teeth. It didn’t matter because she spoke first, flaunting an exotic, perfectly aloof british accent.

“First, I’m not a lady,” she emphasized, “and second, let the kid live, for Christ’s sake.” She snarled as she turned to Henry, putting her hands out on display. She turned them over too, revealing equally decorated palms, fading black lines arranged in artsy, trashy patterns.

What had she meant? Did she want to be referred to as a girl, or…? She seemed young enough, her angel face and baby blue eyes certainly contributing to the impression. But she didn’t come across as anything but a woman to him, an experienced fucking one too. Maybe it was the tattoos, but she also had this… vibe, this old soul kind of thing going. Her body was the next alarmingly rousing thing for him. He had to bite down on his lip as his gut swirled dangerously, quickly looking away.

“Sorry” He rasped, voice more than a few octaves lower. He rearranged the backpack, briefcase and lunch box he was carrying on his lap, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

He kept his eyes low and away from her.

“I don’t wanna go to rehearsal…” Henry whined once he was done fussing over the girl’s hands. Charlie was mortified, but they were getting off soon, and the torture would be over.

“Two more stops honey, you know we gotta go—”

“No offense,” The woman drawled, cutting in, “but you shouldn’t be forcing him to do shit he doesn’t want. He’ll end up hating the clarinet, or dancing, or whatever the fuck you’ve signed him up for.”

Charlie couldn’t believe his ears. He kneaded his forehead, sucking in a deep breath. “I need a fucking nanny…” he whispered angrily, breaking the no-cursing rule he’d set for himself around Henry. She’d just given him an extensive lesson anyway.

“Classic. You people have children then all you want to do is get them out of your hair. It’s pathetic.” She remarked with disdain.

Her rudeness and wildly incorrect assumptions were getting him real worked up, along with the intoxicating energy that was rolling off of her, keeping him at the edge of his seat. He’d just tell her to politely fuck off, to mind her own business, and that would be it, he’d never see her again. Charlie steeled himself to answer as calmly as possible.

“It’s me who has rehearsal. I’m a theater director if you must know; His mom lives in L.A. and I have no one—I mean—nowhere to leave him, okay? He can do whatever he wants when we get there, I’m not that kind of parent!”

Why was he justifying himself so much? Once he was able to speak to her, the words poured out of his mouth like a broken faucet.

“Alright, alright, Jesus Christ!” She side eyed him, and it was her turn to seem agitated. She fished in her purse for a pack of cigarettes, getting one out and ready in her hand, that started bouncing along with her knee as she scanned the train stop indicator.

A long minute passed just like that, both breathing in a charged, thick silence that somehow dulled the tedious rattle and chatter around them. As they approached the next station, the girl got something else out of her bag. After a moment of hesitation, she pushed on Charlie’s shoulder, deeming it the nearest most solid object. She scribbled something against his back on a piece of paper as Charlie’s blood rushed through his veins.

The train came to a stop and she handed him the note as she stood, with a quick “I babysat some kids once”, “Bye Henry!” and she was out.

Charlie gaped at the little paper, just a phone number and a name: J. Johansson.

He only tore his eyes from it to seek hers one last time, catching them through the window for an instant before she disappeared among the gray crowds.

He internally snorted as the train started to move again, bringing him back to reality. What the fuck did she think? The cigarette, the swearing, her impulsive, most likely unstable personality… She was a walking red flag. Those were his most rational thoughts, though they were also the quietest. Another part of his brain was screaming at him, already fantasizing about all the ways she’d be perfect for the job.

It would be a lie to say he didn’t start to consider it right about that time.

He could absolutely use the help; he was exhausted all the time, and as much as he hated to admit it, the few days he’d been juggling work with being a single dad were already taking a toll on him. His life was so hectic he hadn’t had the time to arrange, or even think about the need to hire a babysitter before Henry arrived. And this seemed so convenient, so… right in his face, that yeah. He found himself really, seriously, considering her offer; getting a proper headache over it. In fact, they missed their stop, and for Charlie, that was the last fucking straw.

They got out at the next station, deciding it’d be faster to just walk to the studio.

“Hey, Henry?” Charlie asked, grabbing his hand as they climbed up the stairs, “Did you also think the tattoo lady was cool?”

Chapter Text

Charlie didn’t even make it a full 24 hours before calling; perched on the swiveling chair in his home office, the phone rang as he watched the lights of the city shimmer against a darkening twilight sky.

• Hello?

Her answering took him almost by surprise;

• Hello! Hi, it’s uh—Charlie. Charlie Barber?

He winced at the crackling silence at the other end of the line until recognition finally hit her.

• … Subway dad?
  
  
• That’s me … Hope it’s not too late to be bothering you.
  
  
• Charlie, huh?

She sounded more amused than anything.

• Yeah… yeah. What’s your name?
  
  
• It’s Jessa.
  
  
• Jessa?

He savored the sound of it on his tongue.

• Say, Jessa… are you free tomorrow night?
  
  
• Bit forward but yes, I am free.
  
  
• Great! So uh, how much would you charge for like, 3-4 hours?
  
  
• Are we talking dating or…?
  
  
• Babysitting! Jesus, babysitting—I would never… I didn’t wanna imply… Fuck; I’ve got this work thing at a bar and I can’t take Henry. So if you could come, if… if your offer still stands… you’d save my ass. Plus, if you two hit it off, I’ll probably be needing consistent help over the next weeks, so—
  
  
• Save your ass, huh?
  
  
• You really would.

Jessa hummed in feigned consideration, knowing Charlie couldn’t hear the smile growing on her face.

• Mmkay … Text me the address and time.
  
  
• Great! That’s great, I was thinking you could come round 8, after he’s had dinner? Then you can do whatever you want until bedtime. Should be easy, he’s easy. Just make sure he brushes his teeth. And no cursing or swearwords, please—
  
  
• Okay, Charlie.

That sounded an awful lot like okay, boomer. But the mockery flew right over his head, as he kept filling her in with what he thought were important details.

• …and I should be home by midnight.
  
  
• Gotcha; That’ll cost ya 15 bucks per hour, mate.
  
  
• Alright. Perfect, yes.
  
  
• And a free pass to your fridge.
  
  
• All you can eat, sure. Thank you, Jessa. I’ll see you tomorrow.
  
  
• You will.
  
  
• I’ll text you the address.
  
  
• Yes. ‘Night.
  
  
• Good night.

Jessa heard him hang up after a beat too long, a wickedly soft smirk forming on her lips. This thing with the stick-in-the-mud, stick-up-the-ass subway dad… It could be lotsa’ fun. What took him so long to call? She wondered, as she picked through a box of chinese takeout in the kitchen of her cousin’s apartment, letting her messy thoughts derail. She could have asked for 30 bucks, easy.

📞 📞 📞

It was 20:11 p.m. when Charlie checked his phone the following day, to zero missed calls or texts from Jessa. He was about to call her, not that he needed to leave ASAP, but he still panicked a bit for different reasons.

She rang the doorbell in just that moment, letting herself in as soon as Charlie unlocked the door and waltzing through the open plan apartment like she owned it.

“Mr. Barber,” She twirled around. “nice crib.”

“Miss Johansson.” He cleared his throat. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show up.”

Jessa rolled her eyes at the whole of him, “It’s ten minutes, jeez—Hey Henry!” She greeted, her whole demeanor brightening at once.

“…Hi, Miss Johansson…” Henry waved from his high spinning chair at the enormous kitchen island, eyes glued to the cartoons playing on TV as he spooned pink yoghurt into his mouth.

“Not a miss, remember? It’s Jessa for you, kid.”

She walked towards him, extending her hand for a comically formal handshake, allowing him another look at her gritty tattoos. His eyes narrowed as he put his hand in hers, shaking it loosely.

“Did those hurt?”

Jessa’s eyes were trained on Charlie—who was still hanging by the front door—, as if to rub in how much more of a normal introduction she was having with his son.

“Oh, n…” She had only started to drag the letter N for NO when she saw Charlie’s awkward grimace. He knit his brow, vigorously shaking his head yes.

“YES, yes - so much. Very painful actually. Like a thousand needles stabbing you all at once, and super sharp knives slashing through your flesh; it is bloody, let me tell ya.”

Charlie’s face had morphed from relief back to mild horror. That was a bit over the top gory, but it would do… judging by the haunted look on Henry’s face. But the point wasn’t fully made yet in Jessa’s mind.

“It hurt like a motherfucke—“

Charlie made a choked noise “Language!” He coughed, roughly.

“Oops,” She responded, grabbing a box of Froot Loops from the open pantry and slamming it on the table, as she sat down next to Henry and plunged an arm inside. “What are you still doing here? Don’t you have plans?”

“A work meeting, yeah. I’ll get going.” He stepped closer, kissing Henry goodbye on the forehead. “Night, buddy. Bed at nine, alright?”

“Okay… bye dad.”

Charlie then turned to Jessa, shifting awkwardly on his feet, not knowing what to do with himself for a second. “Uh, see you later then.” He finally sputtered.

“Yes, bye dad.” Jessa retorted, exchanging a conspiratorial look with Henry.

The two of them were cackling like lunatics as Charlie threw his coat on and walked out the door, shaking his head and finally smiling despite himself.

Chapter Text

Charlie Barber wasn’t hot shit anymore. It was a realization he was still coming to terms with. The MacArthur grant had been his last real success, and everything had kinda gone unstoppably downhill from there. His career, his whole life, started feeling like one big failure. The money was running out, his former confidence had evaporated, and the night… it hadn’t gone exactly as he’d planned. He’d thought it was a done deal, that getting the funding for his new project would be as easy as it used to be; have a couple drinks, laugh at some terrible jokes, shake hands. But his name had been dragged through the mud in the aftermath of his divorce, and his last play… It’d been good, it’d been great actually. But not “genius” great, apparently. He was gonna have to do some more convincing, eat some more broadway ass to prove himself.

The theater company and the livelihoods of so many good people depended on it, not just his own.

When Charlie got home the house was dark and quiet. The only light was coming from the terrace, where the tip of a cigarette blazed against the perpetually glowing city backdrop.

Charlie swallowed thickly before padding over, not turning any lights on and silent as a ghost. Sliding the glass door open, he failed at casually joining Jessa outside.

“Jesus!”

“Hey… It’s just me. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t.”

He settled on the railing next to her, leaning over to watch the cigarette she’d accidentally dropped descend into the abyss.

They didn’t speak again for a long time. He knew he should be asking about the evening, about his son… But he wasn’t actually worried. Somehow, he knew everything had gone just fine. That feeling was new, and it was irrational, the way he already trusted her.

“Henry’s asleep.” Jessa confirmed as if on cue. Charlie just hummed, lost in the theatrical scenery before them.

“You seem good with kids.”, he finally offered.

She threw him a dirty look out the corner of her eye, not buying into his newly laid back attitude.

“You’re not gonna go check he’s still breathing or something?”

His gaze returned to hers slowly. “No.”

Jessa scoffed, taking out a battered pack of cigarettes from her denim jacket. She put one in her mouth and shook the box for another, offering it to Charlie.

It was his turn to try and scoff, his refusal automatic.

“I quit, I—I’m quitting.”

But Jessa’s arm didn’t falter, noticing the way Charlie’s eyes lingered on the little stick.

“So… yes?”

“Fuck, yes.”

His massive hand still hesitated as it dwarfed the packet and everything around it. It made her own hand look like a child’s, the cigarette a toothpick between his fingers when he finally took it.

She was forced to do a literal double take of him. And there was so much, it was almost freakish. Tall. He was hunched over the railing and she still had to look up to meet his eyes. Those dark, weary eyes that now searched her face, the unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. Plump, pouty, red lips.

Fuck.

Jessa patted through the rest of her pockets, relieved for the distraction as she scrambled for her lighter. She eventually found the ancient metal thing, and flicked it on with an expert twist of her thumb.

“It obeys only me”, she explained as she brought it level to his face, her other hand shielding the flame from the changing breeze. But then Charlie’s hands tentatively, gently, wrapped around hers, and for the next few seconds, all she could feel was warmth. His skin against hers, the fire nestled in her palm, and a much more elusive source of heat blooming inside, one that she decided to ignore as she stared at those things again, those paws that made hers disappear. The first little puff of smoke came way too soon, and that’s when she saw it. The glint of a golden band, wrapped around his finger.

The cold hit her all over again as Charlie straightened back up, cigarette lit, taking a long, unassuming drag. She tried to play it cool. Because she was cool and in control. But also confused, and she hated that shit. What was the deal, was he still married? What the hell was the deal with her? It’s not like she cared; she had the nerve to ask him about it. And she was going to, but Charlie opened his mouth first.

“I’d always smoke on opening nights. Then I smoked to celebrate and in parties. And then… I was smoking all the time. My ex wife hated it. But fuck it, I’m under lots of stress.” He sucked on the cigarette a bit more eagerly.

So he was actually divorced. He must still be sentimental about it then, or maybe the ring was stuck on that absurdly thick finger. Either way, she lit up her own and they smoked in silence for another while.

“I have to meet those assholes again tomorrow…” Charlie sighed, blowing out a big white cloud that dissipated quickly in the air.

“I thought they were your work buddies?”

“Hardly.” Charlie paused, “Investors. Would you uh…”

“Oh, I see, they’re not done ripping you a new one!”

“You’re so fucking funny.”

“And you’ve got a filthy fucking mouth, when your son’s not around.”

Charlie had to chuckle at her spunk, turning all his attention to her with an air of finality.

“Can I count on you or not—” His brows shot up, forming an expression so stupidly soft and open and pleading.

Jessa narrowed her eyes at him, making a show of snuffing out her cigarette on an empty plant pot, pursing her lips, building up tension before finally, inevitably caving.

“You’ve got good snacks, I don’t see why not.” She drawled, determined to make a point of her selfish reasons. He still sighed in relief, visibly relaxing.

“And Henry is the coolest.”, she added, averting her eyes as soon as a bashful little smile cracked across his face. She didn’t think she could take any more of that tonight.

“Gonna take off now.”

And Charlie couldn’t so much as nod before she was back inside, making a beeline for the exit.

“Course, th-thank you.” His voice wavered as he trailed behind her like a pup, hand hovering close to the small of her back. She walked past the living room and kitchen, straight for the front door. Charlie’s breath hitched before barking out a panicked “Wait—!”.

Jessa stopped in her tracks so suddenly that they nearly crashed into each other. Charlie was quick to retreat from her space as she turned around, folding her arms over her chest with an impatient, questioning look.

His hands shot to the jacket on the hanger and nervously rummaged through its inner pockets. She was still observing him, scrutinizing his every move.

“Your uh…” His stupid brain didn’t want to cooperate. He finally got his wallet out and started untucking bills from it. “Your…”

Money.

“Right.” She almost forgot. The fucking money.

Despite her stupefaction, she briskly snatched the dollars from him, rolled them and wedged them into her bra, making the already flustered giant in front of her even more uncomfortable. It was really too easy.

One thing was clear; she was going to ruin Charlie Barber.

Chapter Text

She was gonna ruin Charlie Barber, if he didn’t ruin her first.

With a long day of doing nothing ahead, the way the events of last night constantly popped in her thoughts was starting to get really fucking annoying. She turned the music on Shoshanna’s stereo all the way up, tried to dance it out. She took a goddamn bath with Shoshanna’s bath bombs and tried all of her fruity glittery soaps.

Nothing helped, so she dealt with it the other way she knew. She called her guy and got herself something to soothe her nerves. Just pot, she wasn’t on anything stronger these days.

The evening finally fell and she returned to Charlie’s to perform the same charade. When Henry was done with his dinner (and she with hers), they drew with crayons for a while and played games like Truth or dare, Never have I ever, or How long can you hold your breath. Just around nine, he brushed his little teeth, put on his little pajamas and went to bed, to Jessa’s endless amusement. The kid was a lost cause, really.

She found herself alone in the house again, with nothing to do but wait. She wasn’t able to catch anything good on TV, and there was nothing on her phone that could distract her. She put Henry’s crayons away, even moved their dirty dishes into the dishwasher. Then she just snooped around the house out of pure boredom, opening cupboards and drawers here and there. Everything was so clean. He was so normal and so boring, it made her sick. And it was only 10 pm.

She predictably wound up on the terrace again, chain smoking because time seemed to pass faster that way.

It must have been a couple hours later when she heard a sharp thud and some rustling coming from the kitchen. A light went on, allowing her to peer inside. Charlie was standing there with his hands pressed to his face. He put them away for a second and yelled something that sounded a lot like fuck, hands flying back to his nose as he tipped his head up. She observed the scene a little longer, watching him stumble into a wall, slide down and slowly disappear from sight.

It was time to go over there and say hi.

“You’re being kinda loud - what are you doing down there?”

“I banged my nose!” His voice came muffled and nasal through the pinch of his fingers.

“Why didn’t you turn on the light?! Trying to creep up on me again?”

“I’m fucking bleeding, Jessa!” He tried removing his hand and a fresh surge of blood spilled down, dripping bright red on his powder blue dress shirt. He covered his nose again and tilted his head up.

“Are you pissed!?”

“Am I pissed…” He was upset, sure. But he realized that in that accent, pissed actually meant drunk. “Fuck, no. I wish I was.”

Charlie wondered, just really fucking wondered, how much more time of his life was he gonna have to spend banging his face against doors, and bleeding in kitchens. He glowered at Jessa, bewildered by her utter lack of reaction. She just stood there, maybe still waiting for an explanation to his little mishap.

“That fucking cupboard was open, pass me some towels, will ya?” Charlie pointed a long arm towards the paper towel roll on the counter, flexing his fingers with urgency.

To her credit, she moved quickly to get the roll, and sat on her knees next to him, passing him towels whenever he needed them. He was making a fucking mess of himself, the shirt was as good as ruined, but in the end he managed to stick enough paper up his left nostril to control the bleeding.

“Done.” He sighed, bringing his head down last to verify he was all patched up. Jessa had to stifle a laugh at the sight of him; he looked like an absolute train wreck.

“Wait, that’s not… wait.” She snickered, trying not to crack up as she grabbed more paper towels and scooted up to him.

With no more preamble, she was wiping under his nose; cleaning blood from his lips and from his chin. Her other hand found purchase on his shoulder as she went, and he tensed under her touch, stupidly jittery at the basic show of attention. It was stupid of him, really. It was nothing. Just that no one had been that close to him in… so long. She kept going and he let it happen, looking up again to make it easier on both, as she continued wiping down his throat. It felt nice. He closed his eyes and kept very still, trying to let himself enjoy it without guilt.

He looked back down as soon as she stopped, and caught her smiling at him. She had never smiled at him before. Of course her smile was also disarming. He felt her proximity so acutely, his mind reeled with it. Hauling her to his lap would be so easy now, his hands burned for it. But there was dried blood all over them, and she’d find him gross, and what the hell was he thinking? She was so pretty and so young… she’d laugh at him, she’d just—

“So, did you get it?”

“Huh?” She interrupted Charlie’s thoughts just as they started spiraling into familiar self hatred territory.

“The funding?”

“I uhm, I don’t know, yet.”

“Shit, man. Let’s smoke?” She stood up in a breeze, holding out her hand. He took it and let her believe she was helping him up, then followed her to the terrace.

“Maybe you’d fancy something a bit stronger today?”

“What do you mean?”

Jessa got her weed baggie out and shook it in front of him. He could hardly believe his eyes.

“Are you seriously telling me you brought pot to a babysitting job!?”

“I forgot it was there!”

“So you just show it to your boss?”

“Oh Charlie, Charlie… You’re not my boss.” She admonished him playfully.

Charlie snorted in disbelief once again. “You said you’d done this before, babysitting?”

“One time.” She remembered, “And I lost the kids in the park on my first day.”

“You what?!” Charlie’s eyes practically popped out of their sockets.

“Relax, it was only for like, ten minutes.”

“Can’t tell if you’re fucking kidding me or not…” He paused, deciding to just drop it. “Come on, get rolling.” He ushered her then, giving her side a little shove.

“Aye, sir.”

Jessa rolled the fattest joint he’d ever seen, and they passed it around and blew big clouds into the night, giggling dumbly every time they caught the other looking.

They ended up high off their asses, sitting on the cold tile of his terrace floor. It was a good while later when she leaned over to stare at him. She studied his face for a minute, clear eyes roaming all over in a way that made him dizzy, dizzier than he already was. He was actively trying not to look down at her lips when she unexpectedly reached up and ripped the paper plug out of his nose. Charlie panicked and immediately cupped his nose, expecting a new rush of wet warmth. It didn’t come, and he sighed in relief as the bloodied paper flew out the terrace, his face cracking with the silliest smile. Nothing made sense and everything was so fucking funny all of the sudden.

“That could hit someone in the head, it’s fucking gross!” He informed her for good measure.

“I know, I hope they’re bald.”

Charlie had to choke back a laugh as he hit the last bit of the joint, resulting in the worst, most painful coughing fit of his life.

His gigantic fist hit his chest in a vain attempt to clear his lungs.

“Shit—that hurts—” His voice strained and his eyes were all teary at the corners, probably bloodshot too; he’d made a fool of himself enough for one night. “It’s uhm… it’s getting kinda late,” He mumbled after a quick glance at his watch, trying to salvage some of his dignity.

Jessa wondered if he ever took that thing off his wrist, and let himself just be. He was bound by so many shackles, shiny expensive ones he didn’t even notice. She snatched the dying roach off his fingertips and hurled it decidedly past the railing.

Charlie smiled but didn’t comment, she was indomitable. He was starting to like that about her.

“Yeah, I guess so.” She resolved, pushing herself up.

Before he knew it he was at the door, giving her money again. Something about it felt off, but he couldn’t tell exactly what.

“Get home safe.”

“Night, Charlie.”

Chapter Text

📞 📞 📞

• We got it! The funding, we got it!
• Oh, great! Is that all?

There was a brief silence on Charlie’s end; he sometimes forgot how cutting she could be.

• No it’s not, no — I want to take the company celebrating actually, I was wondering if you could watch Henry on Saturday night?

Jessa deliberated, but not for too long.

• Sure, but I’m 30 an hour on weekends and public holidays.
• Sure, sure, you got it. No problem.

He didn’t hesitate for a second.

• Rolling in money, are we?

Charlie scoffed lightly into the phone,

• The funding is strictly for the play; but I can still pay you… It’s sweet of you to worry about my finances, though.
• Oh, piss off. Saturday at 8?
• If you’re sure you don’t already have plans? I can always change it…
• You want to trade me off for a weekday? Hell fucking no.
• Eight sharp, Saturday.
• Good!
• Alright then. See you Saturday.
• Bye.
• Yeah, uh… bye.

Jessa hated the man’s guts. Always so… soft spoken, accommodating, and nice. How dared he have that voice, so mighty deep and smooth like velvet… Made to whisper filth in a woman’s ears, meant to be loud and to command. A waste, really. Was that why she never managed to deny him?

Well, she’d had her fun, but she hadn’t forgotten about her plan. She’d show up on Saturday in one of her infallible outfits and fuck with his head a little, then fuck him the fuck out of her system. Nothing within their arrangement had to change. It was just the healthy thing to do.

🚬  🚬  🚬

It was Saturday night and Jessa had run out of cigarettes.

She took a leisurely stroll around the apartment, stopping in front of a shelf full of photos, mostly dedicated to the different stages of Henry’s life. Some were older though, analog pictures of Charlie as a young man… Charlie with a goatee and a beanie… cradling a newborn baby. Charlie in a photocall.

Hanging on the wall, a magazine article with the title “Scenes From a Marriage”, featuring a picture of him and a woman elegantly posing on a sofa. She was beautiful—blonde.

📺  📺  📺

Jessa was watching obscure TV infomercials when Charlie finally turned up, stumbling towards the living room in the half light and nearly splitting the couch in half when he dropped all of his weight next to her.

“Wha’ss up?” He greeted cheerfully.

“Oh nothing, I was just about to purchase the ultimate set of knives.” She said with her very personal British inflection.

Charlie let out a wheezy laugh and eyed her, thoroughly amused.

“You don’t understand, it’s only 95,99$, and, it comes with a free sharpener. I’ll never not have knives again!—Ah, forget it.” She didn’t even own a kitchen. “How was your night? You seem proper inebriated, did you relax and unwind?”

“Jus’ a lil’ pissed, hey what the fuck’s that?”

His woozy eyes dragged towards the armchair, his armchair.

“Henry and I played truth or dare.” Jessa took in the haphazardly toilet paper wrapped disaster and smiled fondly. “He’s making so much progress.”

“Fucking right! You… you have a way with that.” He waved his hand vaguely at her, making her squint for him to elaborate

“You know…” Charlie rumbled gravely, looking her dead in the eye, “making people around you misbehave.”

“Can we play…?” He added after a beat of loaded silence, throwing in a dopey smile. “Truth or dare?”

Jessa straightened a bit and held his gaze, figuring out if he really meant it, before deciding that yes, he did, and going for a dare.

Charlie wished she had picked truth. But then again, he probably wouldn’t have known where to even start. There was so much he wanted to ask, way too many things he longed to know about her.

“I dare you… to give me a compliment.”

“A compliment…” She crossed her arms, turning the scandalous idea around in her head.

“That’s right. A lil’ compliment for Charlie.”

“Okay. You’re, uh… big. Truth or dare?”

Charlie snickered, visibly pleased, and picked truth. Jessa looked him up and down, and decided now was as good a time as any to clarify something that had been nagging at her since the very beginning.

“Do you always dress like an old man?”

“Tsk. If by that you mean elegant and timeless… then yeah, I guess I do. You, on the other hand…” He cast an appraising look her way, “You’re inconsistent. Seems to me like you can’t decide on a style.”

And by that, he meant her creative numbers never failed to make his heart stop whenever she’d show up on his door. Today for example, she looked like a tormenting temptress of the night, all black leather, metallic straps and buckles, fishnet everywhere he looked. Smokey eyes and engine red fucking lips. A god damn choker… It was almost too much, but she made it work, and fuck if it wasn’t doing it for him. It pushed each and every one of his buttons.

“Well, I dress to impress, Charles. Of course I don’t expect you to understand. Truth or dare?”

“Hey, it’s my turn!” He whined, comically aggravated.

“Whatever. Truth.”

This was his chance, the perfect moment to ask her one of his most pressing questions, the one that kept him up at night for reasons he didn’t want to fully admit to himself.

“How old are you, then?”

No more than ten years difference. Ten was the limit. Ten was the absolute hard limit and he would cut any kind of crap if it was more than ten because—

“I’m 27—how old are you?”

Charlie closed his eyes and let his head fall back, releasing a long sigh. “36. I’m 36.”

“Thirty— Six?! You seem much, much older. Man, was I right about the clothes.”

His thick lips slowly curved into a smile, completely immune to her roast. “My turn again.”

“It’s not!”

“You just asked my age, I think that definitely counts.” He said, drunken tongue slurring the last words.

“That’s not how it works, you fucking cheat. Truth or dare?”

“Alright, alright, truth! — Truth.”

Jessa paused for a breath, her icy blue stare still hard on him.

“Do you miss your wife?”

Charlie sobered up at once, brows disappearing behind the tousled waves of thick, black hair on his forehead. The question came totally unexpected and a bit too personal… But valid, after all.

“Ex wife.” He made a point to clarify, “And… in a way, yeah. I think I miss the companionship more than anything. Having someone to face the world with… Things like that. All the things you don’t miss til’ they’re gone.”

His right hand fiddled with the ring on the left all the while, and Jessa nodded her head at it, annoyed.

“Does that mean you still love her?”

“This—” Charlie seemed to realize what he was doing just then, and opened his palm to look down at the ring. “No, no, I—, I paid a fortune to have this made my size. I like wearing it… I’m used to it, I don’t fucking know.”

Jessa threw him a skeptical, “don’t bullshit me” look that forced him to reflect about it some more.

The ring felt comfortable, familiar on his finger. Despite everything, he had always worn it with pride. And he didn’t mind the fact that it still kind of protected him against some… unwanted advances from women. For all his talk and all his bravado and all of his ambitious claims about his needs… He hadn’t pursued any of it after the divorce. Just getting laid seemed like too much work, too much risk of getting involved, too complicated. He didn’t need more complicated in his life right now, so no one should give a shit if he wore the damn ring or not. She was the first to confront him about it. She was also the first to make him feel something, anything, after Nicole. And the first to have him this desperate to break his own rules, to deliberately invite complicated into his life. He couldn’t tell her that part, but what he did tell her wasn’t any less true.

“I guess taking it off would make it all real for me. I don’t think I’m ready… I wasn’t ready for any of it.” He let out a disheartened sigh, looking down and continuing in his quietest voice. “…I never knew life could get this lonely.”

Jessa’s expression was intensely unreadable, but she nodded in approval this time around.

“I get it. The last part, I get.”

He slowly nodded back, feeling kind of guilty for ruining the mood, spilling all of his sad truths and engaging in what very quickly turned out to be oversharing. She was the one to start it anyway, the one to deepen and prod…

“Jesus. Look at us. Games aren’t supposed to make you this fucking miserable.”

“Then ask me something fun. It’s your turn.”

“Okay,” Charlie jumped at the chance, feeling the last remnants of alcohol pound through his veins. He hung onto that poor excuse to make up his mind and finally act on his foolish impulses. He could find another nanny, when she slapped him across the face and left. But he was going to do this. He could do it. Now or fucking never.

“You’re attracted to me.”

“Is that a question?” Jessa smiled, wickedly wide.

“It’s a hypothesis.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Is it true, or false?”

“So you want me to prove your hypothesis. It’s a dare.” Jessa didn’t back down. She didn’t cower or laugh, like he fully expected her to. Instead she regarded him with interest, scanning his face for any kind of doubt. “I dare you to sit still.”

The rules of the game were rapidly blurring, and Charlie’s heart dropped through his guts as Jessa crawled onto his lap, long stockinged legs straddling his, and settled there facing him, as comfortably as if she’d done it a thousand times before.

“Good boy.” She taunted, looking into his eyes as his breath stuttered.

He remained awfully still, arms by his sides, paralyzed. All of a sudden he felt like prey, like an insect stuck on an expertly spun trap, waiting for the spider to pounce. He would only get more tangled the more he engaged, but his brain hadn’t caught up yet, too busy supplying one single thought, over and over again: she was game.

“Dare.” He demanded avidly.

“Put your hands on me.”

She’d wanted those shy, ridiculously big hands on her body for way too long now. They felt trembly and huge as they encircled her waist, spreading warmth on their way down her sides to her hips.

She began touching him too, inked hands flattening against his chest and wandering leisurely up his shirt to perch along the width of his shoulders. She leaned in, dangerously close to his face as she demanded the next truth from him,

“You wanted to kiss me. That night we smoked pot. You wanted to kiss me.”

He had. It was true. Just like he was dying to kiss her now. Charlie just tilted his head and inched impossibly closer, speaking boldly against her lips.

“And you wanted me to do it.”

Jessa’s head tilted the other way at the challenge, fingers sliding into his hair, bunching up real tight. He held back a moan and closed his eyes down, trying to conceal his reckless desire.

The breaths that left his parted lips grew heavy with lust, his whole body shaking with restraint as her mouth hovered his, tantalizing. They were playing a different game now, trying to see who would give in first. Charlie’s arms closed around her waist, keeping her flush to him as his fingers started to skim the curve of her ass.

He cursed his own audacity as he fought to keep it together, focusing on her hot breath over his lips to feel the shortening distance between them.

He froze at the first little touch, but it was gone as fast as it came. Jessa knew she’d lost as soon as she felt his airy exhale, fingers biting at her hips.

Charlie’s dark whiskey eyes fluttered open, already bewitched, as she briefly grazed his lips again. And again. He subtly chased her mouth, never really making contact, stretching the already unbearable tension. But Jessa, she quickly got tired of the charade, and grabbed his face to take exactly what she wanted. Like a car crash in slow motion, she implacably breached into his mouth, making a rich moan finally spill out of him.

He tasted like liquor and dark chocolate. Masculine. Luxurious. Addictive. Too good to let him go on like he was, pressing back so soft, so measuredly slow, in a way that was absolutely maddening for her.

Soft, slow, maddening, but clearly eager, now that the attraction question was settled and out of the way. She rolled her hips against his, feverishly undoing buttons of his crisp white shirt, giving up halfway to reach for his belt instead.

They continued to devour each other as her impatient fingers pushed layers aside, exposing a big, thick, growing erection.

Charlie’s head spun as everything he’d been fantasizing about became real at lightning speed, and started to feel like a really bad idea at the same time. He tried to steady her hips, slow her down, but it was a struggle to even breathe.

“Henry—” He blurted his most immediate concern.

“He won’t hear.”

“If he gets up—”

“We would totally hear him—relax.”

She was already on him, already bare somehow without having taken anything off, rubbing herself up and down his hard dick like a cat in heat.

“Fuck—”

His brain shorted out, he couldn’t think. He didn’t have time to process any of it, especially the fact that she’d already grabbed his cock and was starting to sink down on it, his vision blurring at the edges with the rush of adrenaline and pleasure.

“Jesus-fuckkkk—”

She took him inch by steely inch, trying her damnedest not to struggle as she lowered herself all the way down. He groaned and jerked forward when the skin of her thighs met his, panting helplessly against the dip of her shoulder. She knew exactly how tight she must have felt around his cock because she could feel it too, that hot, stretching pressure of him inside her. Almost tenderly, her arms cradled the back of his head for a brief moment of mercy before she started moving.

His hands hadn’t left her hips the whole time, hindering her motions in their death grip. So she took them in hers and slid them up her body to her breasts, earning another strangled moan from him as she rocked in his lap.

Charlie swore under his breath, cupping her boobs in his palms and squeezing as if he’d been starving for it. There was a thin black strap in between, connected to the choker on top and running all the way down her sinfully open cleavage. He released a breast to trail a finger along it tentatively. He was so attracted to her, so incredibly turned on, it was laughable. The blunt tip of his index slipped under the strap as she picked up her pace, tossing her fruit scented hair all over his face. Charlie groaned and hung to the thin leather for dear life, feeling her start to ride the fuck out of him.

He had such a rideable cock. Solid and thick from head to balls, standing proud, sweetly curved to press up against her just right. Not to mention the way it throbbed, like a meat vibrator. Whatever little struggle she’d had to take him in the beginning was gone, his drooling precum and her own fresh arousal easing the job for them.

Charlie was going to cum, and he was going to cum fast. His hips dug upward as she lapped her tongue across his lips, not really letting him kiss her. He fucked into her harder, using his clenched fist around the choker strap to pull her onto him. His other hand went up to her mouth, fingers smudging the wet lipstick on her lips before dipping into that hot, foul mouth of hers. He stroked her tongue intently with the pads of his fingers. Slippery, as if it were a clit. Her clit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Jessa bit down on his fingers to make him stop and started sucking on them obscenely, as if they were… as if they were his dick, he supposed. She then slurped them one by one, until she reached the one with the ring on it, his ring fucking finger. Jessa bobbed her head down, swallowing around it as her lips nipped the base, teeth scraping gold.

It was so filthy, so vicious, so wrong. Such a novel feeling, such a debased sight, it went straight to his cock. The ring moved up his spit coated finger with the help of her teeth, catching shortly on the knuckle before sliding fully into her mouth. He watched mesmerized, letting her, because what else could he possibly do at that point. She was wrecking him, there was no doubt, in every possible way.

Jessa’s hips ground into his as she spit the ring to the side, purring,

“Diamonds aren’t forever, Charlie.”

The pop culture reference registered vaguely in some corner of his mind, but she was bouncing on him faster, harder, with real purpose now, making it real difficult to even hush his own moans.

His nude hand snapped to her throat in attempted warning.

“Jessa.” He sputtered, “Slow down.”

“Slow down Jessa, ffucking please, I can’t—“

That only fueled her further, making her go even wilder on his throbbing cock.

“—aw, fuck, babe—”

His enormous body tensed, hand squeezing around her neck for a few glorious seconds before he was groaning and shuddering his orgasm against her, burying himself deep inside as he came and came and came. Jessa’s fingers rubbed urgently into her clit, getting herself off as his impossibly hard cock pushed an endless load of hot cum up her cunt. Charlie noted she was being kinda loud, but he also nearly blacked out so it isn’t like he could have cared. He crumpled around her, cheek pressed to her chest, hugging his arms around her waist as they rode out their highs.

Jessa allowed a minute or so of twitching bodies, labored breaths and racing hearts. Then she lifted herself up pawing at his shoulders, damp and warm with sweat underneath the shirt. He was flushed, from what she could see of his chest to his ears. Which, now that she could see from pulling his hair back, were round and big and brash, just like him. Kind of fucking adorable too. She caught herself about to stupidly smile at him and his silly post-orgasmic face. He’d made her that dizzy.

“Damn, girl… you wanna kill this old man?”

She couldn’t help a smug little chuckle this time. Charlie panted softly up at her, reeling brown eyes searching, slowly coming to a series of fucked up realizations.

“Shit, fuck. Shit.” He sat up straighter on the couch, bringing a gigantic fist to his forehead, then up against his lips. His eyes flicked away and quickly back to hers. “You’re on the pill…” He started, cautiously, “…right?”

A heavy trickle of his cum slid down her thigh in just that moment. Jessa flinched, and didn’t answer.

Charlie panicked, zipping his slacks back up.

“Fuck, are you even clean?”

It came out much louder and harsher than he intended.

“I use contraceptives. I’m clean. Christ, I gotta go.”

She stepped away from him and his booming interrogation in a hurry, grabbing her purse and dashing to the bathroom. She was inside for exactly 10 seconds before coming out, headed straight for the door. He trailed behind her like a beaten dog, too appalled to actually react.

“Wait. Jessa.”

“…you can Venmo me the money for today.”

Or whatever. She’d download the stupid app if that meant she could get away from him any faster.

“I’m clean too.” He muttered in a low tone, a devastating, totally uncalled-for wounded look in his eyes.

“No shit!” She turned around to snarl, heels already clacking down the hall.

Chapter Text

Subway Dad: How does the Ven Mo work? - 11:57 a.m.

Charlie sauntered about his kitchen, nursing a pounding hangover and a glass of watered down Tylenol in his hands.

Jessa stared into her phone some time later, a headache starting to pull at her own temples. A text from him was something new and upsetting.

J. Johansson: Don’t bother
J. Johansson: You can give me the money next time - 12:33 p.m.

Subway Dad: I don’t know. Henry’s starting school in 2 weeks. In L.A. - 12:36 p.m.

J. Johansson: Brilliant!!
J. Johansson: and you were planning on telling me when? - 12:38 p.m

Screw this. Fuck you, Charlie, she thought. She was the one who dumped. She was done, her only regret not being able to say goodbye to the kid. It took everything she had to look away from the three dots appearing and disappearing on the screen and toss her phone to the other side of the fold-out contraption she called her bed.

Subway Dad: Everything was still kind of in the air, I’m really sorry. Nicole just emailed me his flight confirmation, it’s Thursday morning. - 12:44 p.m.

Charlie held his head in his hands, absolutely devastated at the prospect. He’d thought he had more time with him, even though school in L.A. was always the plan. Henry didn’t live here anymore, his stays were always temporary… But he knew Nicole was busy, even busier than him lately, and he’d been holding onto that thin thread of hope. Now his son was leaving, and he would have to get used to the loneliness of an empty home, all over again.

He would stop seeing her—

No, no, no. He couldn’t, they couldn’t leave things like they had last night. She was definitely mad (even more so after the news), and had definitely stopped texting back.

Subway Dad: Jessa. - 12:54 p.m.

He’d been inside her not 24 hours ago and now it felt like she was slipping through his fingers. He was the king of big fucking mistakes.

Subway Dad: I downloaded Venmo. - 13:01 p.m.

Subway Dad: Jessa? - 23:18 p.m.

*One week later*

Subway Dad: Hey Jessa. I’m truly sorry about the other night, and about… everything, really. I know I fucked up, and I know how to take a hint.
Subway Dad: Just wanted to let you know Nicole’s behind on her filming schedule, so Henry is staying with me for the time being. - 21:27 p.m.

Subway Dad: I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to call.
Subway Dad: I don’t trust anyone else. - 03:33 a.m

Chapter Text

It was an ungodly Monday morning at the posh coffee shop Jessa had gotten herself a job in, and she was standing vacantly around the register when she heard it.

“The usual, Mr. Barber?”

It cut through her sleepy haze like a knife, and she immediately turned to Ron, the older man operating the espresso machine, the one who’d uttered that name.

“Coming right up!” He hollered again, already at work, lining cup after disposable cup of coffee under the various spouts.

Jessa frowned and turned her attention back to the busy cafe.

And effectively.

Charlie Fucking Barber had just entered the shop and stood suspended in place, dark piercing eyes already on hers. So he’d noticed her, too.

After a moment of hesitation, he walked up to the register in long strides, wholly unable not to talk to her.

“Hi!” It came out wavering, question-like.

“Oh. Hey.”

Charlie couldn’t believe she was there, behind the bar of one of his all time favorite coffee spots in Theater District. No makeup, a white hoodie and ripped jeans under the corporate uniform. Effortlessly beautiful, effortlessly cool.

“Are you… do you work here?”

Jessa rolled her eyes with indifference. “My cousin is being a little shit about rent, so, yeah. I guess I do.”

“I see. I uh, work around the block, actually. Grabbing coffee for the crew…” His eyebrows twitched sheepishly up as a tense silence developed between them. Jessa huffed. Anything she could say to him seemed superfluous. She wouldn’t even comment on the irony of him doing the coffee runs.

Charlie shifted awkwardly in place, hands on his hips as he mulled something over;

“I’ve been texting you, did you not… see my texts, or…”

“Oh yeah, I didn’t see them, I don’t think.” She brushed the ghosting off as if it was nothing. “…What’s new, big shot?”

“Well…” He hesitated a bit, before deciding to swallow his pride and just get it out there. “Henry’s still here, in short.”

Jessa’s eyes widened, arms folding on top of her spotless black apron as Charlie went on.

“It was all last minute but I could get him into a school here in Manhattan, not too terribly far… I’ve been managing alright, I think. I drop him off before work then skip an hour of rehearsal to pick him up. He stays with me at the theater until we wrap…” He didn’t know why he was telling her all this, it just sort of came out, and she had no choice but to listen to him.

She listened, and to be fair, his new schedule did sound kind of harsh. For both of them… It was only 8 a.m and Charlie was already here, grabbing coffee with dark bags under his eyes. Jessa knew how hard he worked, how tired and stressed he came home every night. She wanted to be mad at his open vulnerability. She wanted to hate that soft, warm looking, off-green cardigan he wore.

“Thanks, Ron.” Charlie eyed the two trays full of coffee the barista had just laid on the counter before he entered the habitual grand total on the cash register for Jessa.

“Thanks, Ron.” Jessa parroted, taking the hundred Charlie was already slipping her.

“Keep the change… I’ll see you around?” He said with a quiet, hopeful tone and lingering eyes.

“I can pick Henry up today.”

She seemed to offer it out of nowhere.

Charlie froze mid-air, gigantic trays balanced somehow firmly in his large hands.

“I need the money,” She peeked over her shoulder to make sure Ron was out of earshot. “that’s why I got this ridiculous job in the first place. It’s a morning shift so I’m free all afternoons.”

And she mostly spent them lazing about in the park or getting stoned on Shoshanna’s couch.

“Are you for real?” Charlie looked stunned, positively bamboozled.

Jessa remained calm and businesslike. “Absolutely for real, bud."

It was all she could do after the way he’d barged in, messing up her promise not to spare him a single thought. Besides, she could deal with Henry. She liked that educated little goblin. It was the obscenely hot dad with the obscenely hot mouth she wanted to avoid. She shouldn’t see much of him, anyway.

“I can, I mean we can, arrange that, for sure.” Charlie almost choked in his haste to get the words out, the next customer in line already claiming his space and her attention.

Charlie started backing off, gaze unwaveringly riveted to hers.

“Text you later?”

☕️  ☕️  ☕️

Her words replayed in his ears long after he’d left the cafe.

I need the money.

He realized he still owed her close to two hundred bucks. He realized that was a sum that could easily make the difference for someone like her. He realized he was an idiot, a fucking clueless snob.

And probably just another easy side hustle for her. A one time mistake, at best.

The fact he wasn’t able to keep her out of his thoughts didn’t matter. The way he still ached for her company didn’t matter. The embarrassing, majorly frustrating way he replayed the touch of her skin against his, almost every night… it didn’t matter either, because he had been a fucking dick to her.

Charlie pressed send on the last of his string of texts detailing times, addresses and all the info she could possibly need, assuring her that Henry and his teachers were in the know and that he’d always be one phone call away.

Subway Dad: Oh, and no need to bring him to the park. - 10:11 a.m.

He worried the sarcasm wouldn’t properly translate into text. Should he shoot a quick JK? Just Kidding? He was entirely at a loss, but phone calls felt much too confrontational in times like these. Seconds turned to minutes as he waited by his phone with bated breath until Jessa answered, finally breaking his text soliloquy.

J. Johansson: We’re definitely going though. - 10:14 a.m.

Charlie chuckled deep in his chest, appeased by the first show of playfulness she’d given him in weeks.

Chapter Text

Henry and Jessa had arrived home and were watching Adventure time on Cartoon Network, the one with Jake’s pillow fort.

Jessa had seen it so she eventually zoned out, and started getting flashes of Charlie and her sitting on that same couch. Hungrily dissecting each other through a game. Of her, toying with him. Riling him up. And getting to play all sorts of other games after that. Her pussy clenched instinctively at the memory, and there was no more denying it; she was in trouble. She was out-of-control horny for her DILF boss and fucking him hadn't changed a thing. In fact it had made everything worse. She didn’t even feel angry at his reaction anymore, considering how strong she came onto his drunken ass, hell bent on literally ruining him. Part of her regretted doing it that way now. Her spirits were in the gutter, and speaking of the devil…

Subway Dad: Would it be alright if I came home a bit later today? I have a ton of paperwork to catch up on in the office 💀 How are you guys doing? - 19:31 p.m.

J. Johansson: Sure. We’re all good. - 19:46 p.m.

Subway Dad: Awesome, thank you!! Dinner is in the fridge, please help yourselves to some 🍝 (Lasagna) - 19:48 p.m.

J. Johansson: You’ve got it, boss. - 19:48 p.m.

Subway Dad: See you soon. - 19:48 p.m.

🌃  🌃  🌃

Henry had been in bed for a good hour when Jessa heard Charlie’s key in the lock, turning awfully slow. She was already waiting for him in the open kitchen, and gave him a quizzical look as he finally stepped inside.

“Hi—everything alright?” He spoke first.

“He’s asleep. Hey.” She looked up at him for a second longer and got off her stool, resting her hand on her purse.

He recognized that urge of hers to flee well by now.

Wordlessly, he reached into his pocket for his wallet, untucking a few bills from it.

“Two hundred for last time, plus, five hours today,” He added three more fifties to the stack, rounding up liberally. “three hundred and fifty.”

He stepped closer, close enough to hand it to her.

She was ready to take it and run. She could smell him and it was driving her fucking insane.

Charlie chased her hand as it recoiled with the money, fully aware of her next move and desperately needing to stop it.

“Jessa—I’d like for us to talk.”

“Talk? Is that part of the deal?” She crossed her arms and stared him down, as if the whole thing was of huge annoyance to her.

“You know what I mean. I mean about… us,” Charlie hushed his words as best he could, “what we did…” he nodded towards the couch, brown eyes soft and searching.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Let’s go outside for a smoke.”

“No.”

“See? We’re not cool.” Charlie gulped, not sure if to wait for a rebuttal. “I’d like to fix that… Starting by apologizing to you again, in person. I was selfish and insensitive and rude that night, and I’m sorry that I got paranoid and freaked the fuck out. I also want to thank you for today. For giving this, us, another chance. Henry adores you, and I… Just tell me what else you need from me, tell me and I’ll fucking give i—“

She couldn’t hear any more of that corny word vomit.

His speech was cut off by a yank on his collar and Jessa’s lips colliding with his. It caught him off guard, even though he’d been looking in her eyes the entire time.

Maybe this was her way of shutting him up, of convincing him there really was nothing to discuss. And he was convinced of it for a while, as he closed his eyes and melted into the kiss, opening up for her as she licked the seam of his lips. He moaned into her warm mouth, just to break away an instant later, stepping back with fast, unsteady breaths and gazing down at her with wild, near-black eyes.

“What the fuck?!” He hissed.

“What?! I thought this was what you wanted!” Jessa hissed back.

“Not like this!” Charlie panted, “I need a—friend, not a—”

He stopped himself from saying something truly regrettable this time. He was sober and not about to let his frustration get the best of him.

“Well tough luck! I’m a shit friend.” Jessa snapped back, “And you’re a shit liar.”

She stepped into him again, pressing her body up against his and holding his gaze to prove her point. The swollen underside of his cock pressed hot and hard against her belly, just like she thought.

Charlie inhaled sharply at the contact, looking down at her for a few shuddering breaths without pulling away this time. He started to bend down as his hands reached for her thighs, wanting nothing more than to prop her against the counter and keep grinding sweetly into her, kissing her properly, all the way through—But she pushed him back before his fingers could even touch her, tearing her eyes from him.

“Good night, Charlie.”

“Wait, don’t,” Charlie’s voice was raw, desperate for the words that would make her stay. “don’t walk out on me, please.”

Jessa clung to her purse, shaking her head. “You were right. I don’t want it like this, either.” She somehow managed to sound hurt and sorry at the same time, and had vanished before Charlie could utter another word.

He was left dizzy and confused, wound up and rock fucking hard in his kitchen after a new spectacular fuckup. He palmed himself uselessly, knowing full well that erection wouldn’t just go away on its own.

A minute later he was hopping in the shower, turning the knobs to as cold as he could stand it. His cock bobbed heavy and proud against his stomach regardless of the temperature, even as he squeezed it in his fist, coaxing precum to the tip with a shiver that made his knees weak. He eventually turned the knob back in defeat, setting it to a nice warm spray that enveloped him as he pulled the soft skin of his shaft back and held it there, throbbing. Then up, and then down again, massaging his whole length with the soapy water. He hadn’t done that in the shower since college, but there he was… And it wasn’t long before he was doubling over, going faster, braced against the shower wall as the scalding hot water beat down on his stiff back muscles. He pictured her pink, puffy lips, and the deranged way she always used to kiss him. Her hot little cunt taking him in, clenching down on his cock until his knees finally fucking failed him. Charlie lost it and came with a deep broken grunt, hard generous spurts washing over the cool gray tile.

Chapter Text

Jessa didn’t see Charlie at the coffee shop the next day. She wanted to know what the deal was with the babysitting, after somehow, in some fucked up way, clearing the waters in their latest argument. He didn’t want her; She didn’t want him. So she tried to do what a friend would do, and used her smoke break to ring him up.

Charlie’s heart nearly beat out of his chest when he saw the caller ID, right in the middle of a scene. He scurried out through the emergency doors, picking up the phone against the mossy, beaten down brick of the back alley.

• This is Charlie—

Stupid. So stupid.

• Yeah, hi. This is Jessa.

She sounded confused for a second, but then she continued,

• I uhmm, think we came to a mutual understanding last night. Are we cool now, or what? I’m still willing to help with Henry…

The woman’s mood swings, he swore. A mutual understanding she said. How the hell was that a mutual understanding? She was driving him up the walls, but he would take any little crumb he could get. Funny how she still feared losing the gig. As if he would ever willingly let her go… Charlie wasn’t sure how to treat her anymore, he just wished they could be nicer to each other for once, and she seemed to be extending him just that opportunity.

• We’re… cool, just-uh… not today, I’m taking the afternoon off.

He was planning to pick Henry up and buy some fresh groceries for a home cooked meal. He could try…

• …Come for dinner?

A peace offering. Jessa was quiet for an unusually long while.

• Yeah. Okay.

This was the most cryptical conversation they’d ever had, and one of their most civilized, too.

• Okay.

He wrapped up huskily, exhaling into the microphone. The sound made her think of a dark ASMR video, and she ended the call before she could change her mind.

Charlie lit up a cigarette, needing one more minute to get a grip. He was gonna make it up to her. They could start again.

🕊️  🕊️  🕊️

Jessa was on his doorstep just in time, making an effort to be normal, dress normal, act normal.

She always invited herself in, but not this time.

“Hi, hey, uh—come in, dinner’s almost ready.”

Charlie stepped aside, chucking the white apron he was wearing over one of his favored button-ups. There was a wonderfully spiced smell hanging in the air.

“What did you make?”

“A curry.” He said simply, undoing his shirt cuffs and rolling the sleeves tightly up his forearms, not like she was looking.

“And rice.” Henry’s voice added from the kitchen, matching his father’s solemn tone. Charlie chuckled at that.

“Hey, kid! Nice apron!” Jessa walked to Henry and fist-bumped him like they’d been mates forever.

Unlike Charlie’s, Henry’s apron was stained and smudged with fresh food all over.

Another incredible scent hit her nostrils— “What’s in the oven?”

“Garlic bread!” The kid said, beaming with excitement. The oven dinged and he jumped from his seat, “Dad! Is it ready? Can I have one?!”

“I think so, let’s see!”

Charlie passed his son the oven mitts and used a kitchen towel to take the fragrant tray of bread puffs out of the oven.

“Ready, prepare the mittens.”

He put the tray down and picked a bread with his bare fingers, quickly dropping it on Henry’s waiting mitts.

Henry passed the bread from one to the other, blowing on it as he happily started to circle the high kitchen table. “Hot - hot - hot!”

Charlie smiled, throwing Jessa a quick glance.

“He made those, always wants to try first.”

Henry reappeared from behind the island, this time fanning his mouth with a steaming piece of bread between his teeth.

“How'd they turn out?”

The kid kept opening and fanning his mouth as he chewed on the gooey garlicky goodness.

“Pretty decent, I’d say.”, He said, smacking his lips when he was done. “Jessa! Try one!”

“Hey, can your old man have one too?” Charlie folded his arms on top of his chest, looking none too offended.

“Mmmmm yeah!” Henry jumped up and down, bolting from the kitchen and fucking off to somewhere else with the oven mitts still on, forgetting the half eaten garlic bread on his stool.

“The fuck did you give him, Charlie?”

“He’s a bit excited, alright.” He uncrossed his arms and perched them on his hips, eyeing the tray of little smoking buns. “Those things are like bits of lava, I recommend you wait a minute.”

“Sure.”

“Sit down, I’ll serve.”

Charlie smacked the towel against the middle stool, dramatically dusting it off. Had there always been three stools?

“Would you like some wine? I have this French red that…”

“I’m good, actually.” Jessa cut him off, taken out of her reverie.

“There’s white, too.”

“A glass of red is fine. But bring out the water too, we don’t wanna end up too pissed, yeah?”

Charlie nodded with a half smirk, throwing the kitchen towel over his shoulder before producing two glasses and the already open bottle of wine from behind the counter, pouring her and himself a couple fingers.

He then planted a pitcher full of water on the already set table and turned to the stove to scoop the chunky yellow stew onto big plates, adding a good lump of fluffy aromatic rice on top.

“Henry! Dinner!” Charlie’s voice thundered down the hall, bringing forth a second rumbling earthquake as the boy ran the length of the hallway back to the kitchen, waving a bunch of papers in his little hand.

“I made you a present!”

It was the classic kid’s drawing; a house surrounded by trees and a lawn and sunshiny weather outside, with three gigantic human-like figures inside. One of the figures was significantly more gigantic than the others, and was holding hands with a yellow haired one, which in turn was holding the hand of the smallest figure. All had creepy looking smiles in their perfectly circular heads.

“It’s a picture of today!”

“Gee, thanks!” Jessa squinted at the drawing, holding it at arm’s length. “Yeah, I see that now. Got a little confused by that splendorous New York environment.”

The other paper had a shaky outline of Henry’s hand with black crayon patterns inside, some of them she recognized from her own hands.

“This one’s awesome too!” She high-fived him, “You should look into becoming a tattoo artist one day.”

Henry grinned ecstatically, climbing onto his chair.

🍛 🍛 🍛

“Bassatti?” Henry sounded entirely too Italian as he pushed the big bowl of extra rice in Jessa’s direction.

“Fu—No, I’m full.”

“It’s Basmati.” Charlie giggled, a soft blush on his cheeks as he licked wine from his stained lips.

It pleased her, seeing how chill he actually was with his son. She’d judged him too harshly, from the very beginning.

“Alright pal, you want a yogurt? Banana? Apple?”

He’d eaten about half his curry and about a hundred garlic breads.

“Nooo, too full.” Henry rubbed his tummy, trying to get away with it like Jessa had.

Charlie chuckled and started piling the dirty dishes up, shaking his head.

“Spongebob!”

“One episode then bed,” Charlie sighed.

“Yay! Can Jessa stay for Spongebob?!”

“Of course! I mean, if she wants to—”

He tried to catch her eyes but Henry was already tugging on her sleeve, dragging her in front of the TV with him. Charlie stayed behind, rinsing the dishes and tidying up. He put the cork back on the wine and stored the leftovers in the fridge. Just as he was about to join the Spongebob crew on the couch, the episode ended and the channel rolled into commercial break.

“Come on buddy, it’s late, let’s go brush teeth.”

Henry only grumbled a little, knowing the tone in his father’s voice admitted little to no argument.

“Say bye to Jessa.”

“Bye Jessa!”

“Nighty night kid, be good.”

Henry straight up threw his arms around her, giving her an unexpectedly quick, tight squeeze.

Charlie watched the scene unfold with an indecipherable twinkle in his eye, willing his lips to close when Henry finally got up to leave. He put one of his freakishly large hands on the kid’s head and the other down on his shoulder, starting to nudge him towards the bathroom. “Be right back,” he mouthed at Jessa, hoping to all heavens she would just wait for him.

He brushed his teeth with Henry, helped him change into his pajamas and chose the story book that knocked him out the fastest.

Jessa was actually still there when Charlie waded back into the living room, cartoons muted in the background as she checked Henry’s drawings up close. She noticed him looking, and pointed at the little pink hearts plastered all around the stick figures.

“He might have a tiiiny little crush on you.” Charlie deadpanned.

But he looked sheepish, so sheepish, as she lifted a single brow up at him.

The smooth sailing was over, he guessed, now that it was just the two of them. He suddenly found it so much harder to talk.

“A smoke?” He tried, eyes big and soft and tame.

She shrugged in response.

“Are we cool?”

“Yeah, we’re cool.” She admitted nonchalantly as they both beelined to the terrace.

Once outside, Charlie surprised her by taking out some newly stashed cigarettes and a lighter from under a pot.

“I really fucked you up, didn’t I?” She said, referring to his habit.

“You could say that…” He trailed off, meeting her gaze as he absently raised the pack of cigarettes to his lips, just to put it back down. “…In more ways than one.”

He had no choice, no choice but to delve into the delicate topic of them. He couldn’t ignore it, he didn’t want to, it was the only topic that really mattered.

“What other ways?” Jessa asked warily.

“Many other ways. All other ways.”

“Well that’s just vague as shit… can you be more specific?”

Charlie took a deep breath. He could be more specific. He cleared his scratchy throat, acutely aware of the beat of his own heart.

“I’d really like to kiss you right now.”

Jessa’s stomach did a wild flip. She’d been staring at those lips all night, reminding herself of all the reasons they were off-limits. She and Charlie just didn’t fit, their ridiculous sexual chemistry be damned. It had always been crash and burn between them, he knew that. He knew she was a walking shit show, a disaster waiting to happen. Why did he not care? Why did he want to kiss her?

“That wouldn’t be very friendly of you.”

And why did she care? She didn’t mind some good ol’ self destruction, and yet, she still tried to spare him for some reason.

“There are friends who do it… from time to time.” Charlie carefully bantered, stepping closer.

Jessa narrowed her eyes, taking in his broad, towering frame.

“What?” He rasped, reaching up to softly brush her cheek with the back of his knuckles.

“We’re not friends.” She called the bluff, the lie he was apparently still so dumb as to believe.

“We aren’t strangers either.” His warm palm cupped her face, soft, still so soft.

“You don’t know shit about me.”

But there it was again, the fucking attitude. It frustrated him, infuriated him even. None of the civil ways worked with her; he would have to get on her level, speak her own language so she’d understand.

“I’m still your fucking boss.” He gripped her face tighter, by the jaw; his hand seemed to span her entire face and neck, and… was he baring his teeth? “The boss you’ve been fucking—”

Charlie’s voice was lower now, thick like molasses. He breathed with her, the sharp spice of his aftershave flooding her senses. Gone was the nice smiley Charlie from earlier that evening. This was a different kind of foreplay.

It made her hot all over, his flippant words the final nails on her coffin. Their eyes met; Left. Right. Left; The hand on her face finally let up.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” He said lowly, hinting at his intentions, giving her an out. A heavy moment passed between them, in which something clicked in her brain, a puzzle piece falling into place. Charlie slid his hands down her arms, letting his eyes trail her body with unmistakable want.

She stared at him in the same way, swearing to see him wet his lips just before he leaned in to steal a surprisingly soft, surprisingly slow kiss from hers. Then came a hotter, longer, more frenzied one. He walked her backwards, nipping at her lips as she deepened the kiss and ripped the first hot moan from his throat.

“We’re doing this, then?” Jessa asked breathlessly, precociously, fingers already fumbling with his belt buckle. Charlie stopped her at once, clasping a hand tightly around both her wrists, eyes blown black with lust. She frowned indignantly up at him. He wouldn’t…

“Yes we’re doing this—” He huffed, yanking her arms up just to rest them on his shoulders, “…and we’re doing it my way.” He really swooped in then, lifting her smoothly off the floor and crashing his lips to hers as Jessa wrapped her legs around him, loving every second of it.

She loved the rough talk, she loved being handled and used, being at someone else’s will. Being at his will in particular felt like the most exhilarating high in the world. She hadn’t been sure he had it in him until then, and she guessed she could let him be the boss, just for a while.

Their tongues slid together as they made out against the terrace wall, his dick filling out dizzyingly fast in his pants as Jessa undulated her body against him. He growled and rocked back once, twice, before releasing her mouth to keep growling in her ear,

“M’gonna mess you up.”

“Y-yeah?” She asked, running out of breath. It was payback time, and Jessa couldn’t be wetter for it.

“Gonna fuck you, until you can’t see straight…”

His hips were the ones shoving her against the wall now, fully hardened bulge pressing firmly into her center as he rumbled on,

“Make you come so hard on my cock…” He lowered his voice even more, barely a whisper in her ear. “Pump you full of my cum again, I know you’d like that.”

“Jesus, Charlie. Fuck. Yes.”

It gave her actual goosebumps. That mouth was even filthier than she thought, and she was so turned on that she was forgetting how to speak.

Charlie’s hands fondled her ass, her thighs, squeezing them good before lifting her back off the wall. He walked them to the far end of the terrace, where he gracelessly yanked a smaller glass door open.

It was a direct access to his bedroom, and lucky for them now, the farthest point to Henry’s room in the house. It was big and sparse, obviously redecorated by a depressed single man. All dark shades and functional furniture, a lone California king with faded blue sheets in the middle.

Charlie didn’t bother with any lights, let the incessant glow of the city be of use for fucking once. He laid her down carefully on the bed, kissing her all the while, feeling her soft boobs pebble under her sweater. He didn’t need to slip a hand inside to confirm she was fucking bare underneath, but he did it anyway, eventually tugging the sweater off. And shit—seeing those perfect tits out like that made his mouth water, made him feel tight in his own clothes, made him want to scream.

“You’re a menace,” He muttered instead, not wasting another second before bowing down to suck the tips of her breasts into his mouth. He treated them with such care, gently lifting them in his palms as he hummed around the tender flesh, making Jessa’s back arch for more.

“Fuck, don’t stop.” Her hands were on him, all over him, pulling him to her.

He only moved from one nipple to the next, groaning when his erection rubbed up along her thigh. Charlie could not remember being this feral, this needy for anyone ever. He hastily busied himself with her lower half, as he kept licking, kissing, biting at her pretty tits, making her whine so sweetly.

Thick, warm fingers teased through her jeans, running slowly up the inner seam of her thigh, reaching her sex and circling it just as slow. Deliberately. Rubbing the entire length of her slit, mapping it out. Stroking her clit without needing to see and pressing down on her soft entrance, just to let her know he got that too. She shuddered through it all, taking every bit of the gentle pleasure he was giving her while trying not to go completely insane with need. Heat pooled low in her belly, and next thing she knew he’d popped open the button of her jeans and was drawing the zipper down, finding she hadn’t bothered with knickers either. She was bare everywhere.

“Gonn’give me a fuckin’ heart attack—” Charlie rumbled hoarsely, getting up on his knees on the bed.

Jessa smirked as he tugged the fabric sloppily down her legs, undid his belt to get rid of his own pants, took his shirt off too. It was too fucking hot in the room, when did it get so fucking hot?

She was naked, fully naked on his bed now, and he was down to just his briefs.

The fact that the man was built like a brickhouse was obvious, for fuck’s sake. But it ought to be a fucking crime, how damn fine he actually looked without clothes on. Why had she never seen him? She should have tried harder to get him naked. The only part she’d actually seen of him was the one that still remained clothed, hidden under his briefs.

Those black, straining boxer briefs that did nothing for his decency, and only highlighted the beautiful, endless expanse of alabaster skin he’d just uncovered. Smooth, so smooth, gracefully sprinkled with moles and freckles, a soft dusting of hair on his forearms and a little bit more on his sternum. She ogled those thick, packed looking arms, even thicker chest and waist, thighs like tree trunks. Strong, powerful. Capable of so much damage, that much she knew.

Jessa wanted to bite chunks off him, that flesh, and was about to launch herself to it when he tackled her, crawling over her body and pressing her flush to the bed.

“Shhh,” He breathed just below her ear, lips threatening to brush the skin. “relax… You were doing so well…”

He cut off there though, rolling onto his elbow and biting the inside of his lip, to which she gave an odd, questioning look.

Charlie dropped his gaze, trailing two hesitant fingers down her stomach before speaking again. “Can I call you baby?”

“Shit, Charlie, call me anything you want.” The freaking nerve of him. Her hips bucked into his hand, needing the contact more than ever. “Just fucking touch me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. His fingers delved into her wet heat, parting her folds and watching her with hooded eyes as he languidly stroked her. The tip of his middle finger got coated in silky slick as he curled it into her, and he had to fucking whimper when he dipped another finger in with zero fucking resistance.

He hung his head and wordlessly scurried down, completely overcome with the urge to put his mouth on her. His fingers slid deeper, rubbing at her front wall as his hot breath skimmed her labia, plush lips delicately spreading her out. Jessa fought not to squirm, unused to that sort of reverent, heated attention there. Charlie threw a heavy arm across her hips, and it wasn’t long until he gave in, his tongue starting to taste her in long, hot strokes. He moaned into her cunt as her intoxicating flavor filled his mouth, hips canting hard into the mattress, could’ve blown his load into the sheets right fucking then.

Dark wisps of Charlie’s hair tickled her thighs as he thirstily ate her out, and she could do nothing but grab handfuls of it, pushing his open mouth harder onto her. He had the perfect fucking mouth for this, she should have known it. He could seal his lips over her entire pussy and suck at her like that, or bury his nose into her folds and push his tongue inexplicably deep into her hole. Whenever he wasn’t busy fingering it, slurping at her, lapping and nipping and kissing and making out with her clit, with her pussy lips. One by one he was tearing all her defenses, breaking down all her walls.

Jessa moaned much more viscerally as she started to let go, and he wanted to hear her make those sounds again, and again, and again. He was gonna make her come so many times, fuck. They had all night. He wasn’t letting her go.

There was a difference between this and the countless other times men had supposedly gone down on her; he knew exactly what he was doing for one. He wasn’t fucking selfish, and he was clearly enjoying it. He also clearly wanted to make it last, stretch out her pleasure for as long as they both could bear it. So, instead of rushing to the finish line, he started pulling away every time he felt her close, slowing his fingers inside her to almost stillness only to fire her up all over again seconds later. It was driving her so fucking mad and making her so fucking wet she could have literally murdered him.

She was coiling up yet again, he could sense it. Her stomach tensing under his arm, her thighs twitching and clamping around his ears, her breath, quickening above him. He paid attention to every little thing, picking up on what she liked from her reactions and readily accepting the subtle guidance of her hands on his head as well as the not so subtle movements of her body against him. More pressure, more tongue, more to the right, faster, not so fast, right fucking there. He listened and learned. He understood and obeyed. He delivered, until he didn’t.

He must have been taking some wicked pleasure in finding out just how far he could push her, how high he could possibly make her climb. The answer was not much higher. Jessa hadn’t been more aroused in her entire life, being brought to the very edge over and over again.

Charlie was looking up at her, eyes glinting darkly in the dim, borrowed, light of the room. His messed up hair was all over his face. His mouth, his lips, were still on her, holding a light suction around her clit that wasn’t enough to get her off, but still. Still.

The bastard played her like a fucking instrument, and she wanted to come but couldn’t, not without his help.

“Shit, Charlie!”

He squeezed a big hand around her thigh, laving his silky tongue over her bud just once. He knew exactly what she needed, but, was he gonna give it to her? She tried thrusting herself into his mouth, pushing his head down harder. But he snatched her hand and pinned it back against her body just as his tongue started to flicker again, eliciting a string of increasingly breathless sighs from her. He sucked down harder, curled his fingers into her deeper and almost made her seize up, stars dancing behind her eyes, she was so close, so so so close.

“I’m gonna come, don’t you fucking stop now, don’t you dare!” Jessa cried out.

That was the closest he would get her to begging this time, besides, he needed to feel her come all over his fingers by now, taste it on his tongue, lap it all up. And he did, humming lowly around her as she fell apart with a muffled scream, pulling hard on his hair, nails leaving delicious red trails across his shoulders. He held her through it all, grounding her to the bed like a heavy anchor until her body turned soft, like putty in his arms. Only then he stopped the sluggish swirling of his tongue, kissed her sensitive folds one last time and lightly slapped the side of her ass.

“Not fucking done with you, babygirl.”

A wild, disbelieving laugh escaped her, out of breath and out of fucking wits.

She could swear she saw a hint of a smile on his lips too, warm red fleeting across his beautiful high cheeks as his paws dragged her by the thighs, placing her directly under him. She saw him untuck his raging boner and fall over her. Thick hips slotted between her legs. Lips pressed to her neck. The hard tip of his cock nudged right into that sweet spot, where she was slippery and warm and yielding.

And Charlie needed air - he needed to breathe. She was gonna end him, it wasn’t just a manner of speaking anymore.

“This okay?” He was dizzy with need for her, about to finally fucking lose it. “Should I get ah—a condom?”

“No, nonono, we’re good.” She urged him on, snaking her arms around his absurdly broad waist.

His teeth scraped the slope of her neck as he slowly pushed in, hissing and groaning, hot shivers prickling at his skin.

Jessa gasped - The burn, the sudden fullness of him felt as perfect as she remembered it to feel. His dick never seemed to end, much longer, thicker than his fingers, sinking in almost to the hilt. The sharp points of his teeth on her collarbone only added to the general bliss of the moment.

Charlie held her hips as he worked the last inches of her pussy open, patient little pushes that had him huffing and panting above her, already a mess, already breaking into a fucking sweat. His entire length pulsed the moment he felt himself bottom out inside of her.

“Fu-cking Christ—”

His eyes, black as pitch, were smoldering, as he throbbed and throbbed and throbbed. He could look at her now, and it was an entirely new fucking thing, being able to see her eyes, talk to her while being inside her like that. The intimacy of it felt like soft summer rain on Charlie’s parched soul, and he was swimming in it, drowning in it as it filled every hole in his aching chest.

She could tell now, as she looked back at him and saw the undeniable longing in his eyes. How badly he’d needed this. How cruel she’d been, even if she was only trying to protect her own bruised heart. Charlie was starved for touch, for a genuine connection, for real vulnerability with another person. This was exactly what he ached for, what he craved.

His whole body shook with shudders as he tentatively started to move inside her, and it was perfect. She was perfect. His heart was going a hundred miles a fucking minute, and he couldn’t find it in himself to stop his own delusion for even a second.

“You’re—Fuck, you’re—” He mumbled, simply mumbled all the half baked nonsense that came to his mind against her lips. “I’ve—wanted—” And just like that, he couldn’t speak anymore.

The drag was outta this world, it was making him reel so goddamn hard, and he wondered if it felt nearly as good for her as it did for him. He fucked her and fucked her and fucked her, moaning like he couldn’t get enough, and she met him thrust by thrust, getting bolder each time. He noticed and gave her a sharper thrust—

“Y’like that?”

Her walls sure squeezed down on his cock like she did, and he wouldn’t last, not unless he put some distance now, stopped looking into her eyes now.

Charlie pushed himself up, hiking her leg against his sweaty stomach as he started a faster, heavier cadence that punched endless whimpers out of her, his meaty pecs bulging out with each thrust.

“This ain’t too bad, is it?” He insisted, really wanting to know. Needing to know.

As much as he was enjoying it, there was an important point he needed to fucking prove - the point that he could fuck her so good she’d forget about goin’ hoppin’ on stranger’s laps, getting herself off like that, it was no good, no good, no good…

“Shut up Charlie,”

If she wouldn’t speak to him fine, he’d show her, show her how very different things could be. She needed a teacher. A director… The pads of his fingers found her clit as he delivered his deepest thrusts yet, tirelessly massaging her inside and out.

Charlie fucked like an absolute dream. Top shelf shag. He was so strong, moved her body so effortlessly, fucked her however he wanted. He was everywhere, his hands, his body, his dick stuffing her over and over, so so good, she was so full of him. There was something so intentional about the way he did it too, a focused frown on his brow as he steadily pushed past his pleasure, holding back for her sake with the stamina of a fucking bull. It almost felt as if she’d found that mythical creature, the selfless lover, the best fuck in town.

“You drive me insane, y’know that? You have to know that,” Charlie babbled, locking an arm around her knee to counter the force of his hips, the other one low on her belly.

Jessa didn’t respond, he couldn’t have known if she even heard him. She just threw her head back against the sheets as he railed her with everything he had, thumb pressed to her clit as his muscles burned from holding himself up, moving both their bodies, from trying not to cum - he was shaking with the effort of it.

Charlie dropped to his elbows with a breathy grunt and her arms instantly looped around his neck, around his back. His pace stuttered. He was being held. Held so fucking close and so tight he could have crumbled inside her embrace. When was the last time he’d been held? When was the last time she’d held someone? He dared feel comforted, wanted, needed even.

They fell into a calmer rhythm, so much closer and tender now, his face burrowed in the crook of her neck as her fingers weaved through his hair, slick chests slipping and sliding, chafing their overheated skins.

“So fucking good Charlie,” “Just like that—Fuck—!”

And the praise… it only increased the hopeless hiccup of his hips as her legs wrapped around him too, angling his hard cock against her in a way that made them both cry out. Her first orgasm was a distant memory, fuzzy and faded, nothing compared to the avalanche she could already feel unraveling inside her.

Charlie could sense it, his thick breaths becoming rough, desperate sounds of pleasure as he pushed and pushed and pushed.

“Youre- gonna- cum- arentyou-“ The words were clipped, punched from his agonizingly tight chest. “Fuckin- cum- on-this-cock-“

Electricity shot through her skin as she senselessly nodded against his massive shoulder, feeling her core start to clench, instants away from release.

“Oh—Oh, fuck, YES!”

And that was it. Charlie practically roared in her ear as he felt her walls start to flutter, massaging his cock so deep and tight he had no choice but to come with her, shooting in thick, hard pulses that wrecked his body with a violence that should have left him spent.

But the strokes didn’t stop. His back muscles rippled under her palms as he fucked his load deeper into her, wheezing and growling like the absolute freak he was. He was hard still, and could have probably kept going. But Jessa cradled his face, pushing the hair from his eyes with soft, slow caresses that helped him come down.

He was light headed by the time his hips stilled against hers, oversensitive, panting and drenched in sweat. And she? She’d never been more thoroughly, more successfully fucked in her life.

“Good?” He still had the audacity to ask, more bashful than actually smug.

“It was… Yeah, it was decent—”

Charlie’s breath skipped with a snigger, letting his heavy head fall to the base of her neck, touching his open lips to her flushed, slick skin.

She could fight him about a lot of things. About most things, really… But there was no denying that.

Charlie groaned as he slipped out of her, dropping to the side with a heavy sigh. Time stood blissfully still as they laid there with their legs intertwined, content to just catch their breaths. But it could only last for so long. Jessa knew it was soon, way too soon to ruin the moment when she willed herself to face him again.

“I can’t stay.”

Charlie shifted, the mattress creaking ever so lightly under his weight.

“I know.” He answered quietly, looking into her eyes.

She couldn’t stay, not until morning anyway. But he’d be damned if he didn’t try to keep her in his bed at least a little longer. It would never be long enough, but it would still be better than her leaving him now. For all he knew, this could be their one and only proper time together, and he couldn’t bear the thought of it as much as he tried.

“Give me five fucking minutes, will ya?” He pinched her cheek, forcing a smile in an attempt to lighten the mood. “I could go again if you wanted to…”

Jessa considered him for a moment.

“What are you, some kind of stud?” She scoffed jokingly.

Charlie shook his head, his weak smile already wavering.

“Just a man… who doesn’t know any better. I really don’t know, I… I feel like maybe I’m going mad. But fuck, Jessa, I don’t want to stop.”

Post orgasmic honesty hit him a bit too brutally sometimes. Charlie struggled to measure his words, not wanting to spook her out with feelings so new he hadn’t even put a name to yet. But it was so much. He felt so much. He felt alive, for the first time in fucking ever.

Jessa took his hand in an unexpected, impulsive gesture, kneading it with her thumbs, feeling up his meaty palms and fingers. She hadn’t seen the ring since the day she almost choked on it. Neither of them ever mentioned it again.

“Alright.”

“…Alright?”

“Alright, I’ll stay a while. You don’t have to butter me with sex… but you’re really gonna have to get me a cigarette.” She taunted with a smile, a real cheeky one as she tipped her head back against his chest.

Charlie looked down at her, truly without words this time. How was she so dreamy, so beautiful? He never smoked inside the house. He wanted to kiss her.

“I’ll go get ‘em, don’t move.”

He lifted their hands and pressed his lips to her knuckles instead. Once, twice, three times before letting go.

The warmth in his eyes could have melted her down. Charlie was sweet. Gentle, when she needed him to be. She didn’t exactly loathe it, so she took that information and pushed it to the back of her mind as she watched him bounce off the bed, tug on his boxers and go in search of the pack he’d dropped on the terrace ages ago. He found it and got back to bed in record time, putting his arms around her like the cat who got the cream.

They shared his smokes and consumed each other in a slow, nicotine fueled burn that lasted the rest of the night.

Still, she stuck to her word and left before the break of dawn.

Chapter Text

She never stayed. That was the unspoken agreement, their way of keeping things casual. Yes, they were fucking. Yes, they couldn’t get enough of it. But nobody else needed to know, starting with Henry, and including, strangely enough, Jessa’s coworkers at the coffee shop. She was always professional when he came around, dispatching him as fast and efficiently as she would any other customer.

Charlie started to get the coffees more and more often, eventually figuring out her breaks, finding out when she took ’em, and where she went, whenever she’d disappear into the back of the cafe, sneaking out through the kitchen.

He figured they had about four minutes left when he spotted her on the alleyway behind the building, empty except for the steamy vapors coming out of the shops and her own cigarette smoke. The whirring of the ventilation systems and the fact she was facing away from him made his approach impossible to notice until his arms were looped around her waist, soft lips hushing in her ear from behind.

“It’s me—“

“God fucking dammit, Charlie!”

“We’re alone, it’s just me…” Those soft lips brushed the skin of her pulse point as she turned in his arms, cigarette held over her head.

“Aren’t you the perfect stalker?” She faced him as he continued the exploration of her neck, her collarbone, back all hunched as he cupped her boobs and inhaled deeply through her shirt.

“I would have never guessed a man your size could be so sneaky.” She went on, sighing at his ministrations. “You’re lucky I’m used to it by now, or I would have kneed you in the bollocks.”

“We don’t have much time—” Charlie’s hands found the curve of her ass and pulled her up against him with a groan.

“Are you gonna fuck me here?”

“Mmmh,” Charlie’s skin crawled with need, too tight, too hot, not completely in control. “wouldn’t you like that…”

Jessa grabbed the back of his neck, where his silky locks met the flat collar of his button-up, and retaliated with a stripe licked right across his plump lips. He swiftly chased her mouth with a helpless moan, trying his best not to crush her into the concrete wall too hard as his tongue plunged in, claiming her mouth as his, only fucking his.

“When can I see you?” Was the first breathless thing he said when he finally managed to pull away.

“You’ll see me tonight.”

“I see you every night… that’s not what I mean, I mean…”

“I know what you mean—Big boy’s gotta finish what he started, don’t he?” The corners of her mouth turned up at the way he was getting all hot and bothered, her eyes full of mischief as she balanced back in his arms to take an upwards drag of her cigarette. She stubbed the rest of it on the wall behind, puffing the smoke away.

Charlie was looking at her in a weirdly intense way.

“I’d do it, you know? Fuck you right here—in this stinky alley.” He pressed into her, hard. He was fully hard. “You’ve got me fucking hooked, shit, I need—”

She looked down at him and his shiny, undeniable eyes. “I know, Charlie. I’ll stay tonight. For a little bit.”

For a little bit. For a while. Always making sure to point that out. Fuck, he could barely let go of her right now.

“Okay.” His voice was breathy with relief all the same, rough and needy at the edges. She felt his body slowly press her back to the wall, his fresh breath on her lips as he got closer, his physical need straining so close to hers. That way lay madness.

“I should probably get back.”

“Okay,” He repeated, not making a single move to put her down but still stubbornly leaning in. Bargaining for that kiss.

He started it sweetly, softly. She devoured him back with a vice. It was a wonder they could even part after that.

“I’ll start your order. See ya in a minute,” Jessa walked back through the service door, not without feeling up the tight front of his khakis first. “or two…”

🍆  🍆  🍆

All of his anxiety had melted down to nothing just a few hours later. Pulling orgasm after orgasm from her body did that like nothing else. He was moving slowly on top of her now, inside her, and the way it felt as she tightened up for him was all he’d be able to think about for weeks. He was edging along the limit, he knew he was, but he was greedy. He’d wanted this so much.

“Charlie—” Jessa urged him with a whine, as his weight deliciously, rhythmically pressed her down into the bed.

“Give me another one, another—I know you can, so fuckin’ pretty when you come,” His words dragged, lazy and muddled with lust. It was in these moments and these moments only, that he could get away with saying such things. He could fuck her in the most degenerate ways, fill her ears with dirtiest filth he could come up with, but she drew the line at the most innocent words of affection.

Jessa’s nails scraped down his scalp and the back of his neck, starting a full body shiver that was his damnation.

“Fuck, Jess—m’gonna—”

Another deep jerk of his hips and they were both coming, her contractions making him gasp for fucking breath, draining him of all he had, good and bad and everything in between. He let it all flow out of him, and for a moment, there was only harmony. For a moment he knew nothing but peace.

He must have looked out of it, so out of it for her to notice even through her own haze.

“Alright?”

“Yeah, I—” He blinked down drowsily, her face coming back into focus. “I think I lost grasp of myself for a moment there.”

The man was brilliant. Truly something else. “You’re ridiculous.”

He made a funny face. “You’re beautiful,” He probed, unable not to.

“Don’t—don’t do that.”

Charlie put his hands up and abided with a chuckle. Like a fool, he couldn’t stop smiling. Her rules, her limits. It was a curious thing. She was a riddle that had him in a chokehold, one he wasn’t in any hurry to get out of.

He tried not to get lost staring at her, like he always did when silence settled between them. It made her get uncomfortable and leave, so he cleared his throat and thought of something to say.

"I told you about Henry’s sleepover, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, like a thousand times.” She drawled, “His friend’s mom is picking them up tomorrow. I do remember.”

“Just double checking.” Charlie grinned enigmatically, trying to shake his abashment, the sudden rush of nerves. “Hey, you know I trust you. Just don’t want you showing up for nothing. Besides…”

He wanted something, she could smell it from a mile away. And as always, he needed a little shove to spit it out.

“Besides?”

“…How about I pick you up?”

That caught her fully off guard, but she was quick to think of a save, making him blush even harder. “What, you wanna do the whole schoolgirl role play thing? Should I dress up for it too?”

He breathed out shakily; because he knew she was playing, only fucking playing. She needed to know that he was not. They had a chance to spend some actual time together, without hushing and hiding and rushing for once.

“Come on Jess, I mean it. After your shift? We could grab lunch.”

She couldn’t joke this one away. The proposition was real and there. And it was unfair, the way his puppy dog stare did all the work for him. All the begging, in silence, without him having to actually say a thing.

“Don’t you have work?”

“It’s tech rehearsals all day… no one will miss me if I just show face in the morning for a bit.”

Whether that was true or not didn’t actually matter. He was ready to ditch it all in a breeze for her, and she knew that… but she still had to ask, if only to keep some semblance of normalcy. Because the way he’d wrapped himself around her little finger was anything but normal. So fast and tight already, like a wedding fucking ring she never asked for. She’d simply never dare, from him or from anyone, knowing full well she’d never be able to reciprocate.

But the truth was she enjoyed the chase. The truth was she sought him out just as much. They were bordering on codependency, and that was a truth she tried to hide, from herself and from him. She didn’t want him to know the kinds of things that crossed her mind every time he entered the cafe with sleepy eyes and a rumpled coat. She fantasized about undressing him slowly, button by button. Tasting every inch of his skin, sucking him off, turning him into a desperate, trembling mess for her. And then giving him whatever he wanted. All of it, letting him take it. She thought about that more often than not.

That’s why she avoided him most nights, but there were those other nights… nights he came home late, to Henry already asleep. Nights they ripped each other’s clothes, trying to be quiet on their way to his bedroom. They fucked like animals, eased their tensions away, it was what it was. She couldn’t let him think otherwise, and this time was no different. As she got dressed to leave, the prospect of a real sort of date in the real world with him was something terrifying. Un-fucking-charted territory.

Chapter Text

Jessa thought she’d see Charlie at the cafe the next morning, but he didn’t show. He didn’t appear out of nowhere in the back alley either, and she had to kick herself for the real pathetic expectations she'd built up as she crushed the butt of her cigarette under her shoe. Nah; He didn’t owe her secret glances across the bar, or frenzied stolen kisses against the wall. He’d be there after her shift, he’d said so, and he was rigid in his plans, a man of his word. Except… her phone was ringing, and it was his nickname on the screen.

• Hello?
• Jessa, ah—Hi—. Fuck, I’m… I’m not gonna be able to make it. Sort of busted my back at work, it’s… bad.

Charlie sounded unsettled, disoriented. His voice strained over a background of strange bustling noises.

• …Uh… ok, sure. Don’t worry about it I guess.

She tried, really tried not to let her disappointment show. Sound breezy. Stay cool. You don’t care. You don’t care.

• I swear it’s not some bullshit excuse … I spent the entire morning in the ER, getting my ass jabbed. They’re discharging me now, and I thought I’d be able to fucking move, but damn. I’m so fucking sorry.

Okay - so maybe he wasn’t just bailing out on her. He seemed pretty fucked.

• Shit. You’re gonna be okay though, right?
• I hope so, just need a little rest.
• Okay, grandpa. Will you make it home alright?
• Uh, yeah, don’t worry ‘bout it, it’s arranged. It’s just… ugh, it had to be today of all days. I was really looking forward to our… lunch, you know.
• Some other time.
• Yeah… Yeah.
• Take care now.
• I will. Talk soon, babygirl.
• I’m hanging up.

Charlie chuckled, fond of their harmless bickering, and the line went dead before he could sneak another word in.

🚑  🚑  🚑

J. Johansson: I’m at Thai place downstairs. - 19:40 p.m.
J. Johansson: What do you want?

Subway Dad: 👀 - 19:41 p.m.
Subway Dad: Tell me you have your keys, for the life of me, I can’t get up.

J. Johansson: I counted on that. Also that you’d need feeding. So what the heck do you want.

Subway Dad: Noodles. Spring rolls. Deep fried shit.
Subway Dad: Fuck, you’re amazing. Get your ass here.

Jessa didn’t know why she did the things she did. She usually just followed her impulses without giving it too much thought, and this time they’d brought her there, straight to him. She didn’t question if it was right or wrong, or if it meant anything. Bringing Charlie dinner and babying him was what felt right at that moment. The instinct was as powerful as it was embarrassing, but it was what she wanted. And Jessa always got what she wanted.

Charlie was stretched on his fancy recliner when she got there, dressed in a pair of long gray sweats and a black tee. It was the first time she’d seen him so casual, and he looked just as attractive, if not more. He looked fresh. Youthful, if you overlooked the pained grunt he let out as he pitched his body forward.

“Hey there, old man.”

“Hey… thanks, thanks for coming. You didn’t have to.”

“Hungry?” She dangled the greasy bag of food in his face.

“Starving. Come, sit.”

Jessa headed to the couch, ready to start unpacking their dinner on the coffee table.

“No. Here.” Charlie grated, nodding at his lap.

“Bossy.”

She tried not to smile too wide as she dropped the food and stalked towards him. Charlie reached his hand out to hers, gave it a little squeeze and a tug.

“Told you, baby, I’m starving. Come give your boss a kiss—“

Jessa scoffed as he reeled her in. His body took up most of the space on the huge armchair, making it look almost comically small, and it was hard not to trample him as she climbed into a precarious straddle. He didn’t complain one bit, just looked stupidly happy with his big hands soothing up her back, and she wondered if he was on stronger medication than she’d thought.

His steady arms kept constricting around her, and Jessa wasted no more time putting her lips on his, indulging in his desires, her desires. He moaned and clung to her, wanting, yearning, begging her to deepen a kiss that had only just started. The back of the chair reclined all the way down as she did, and she could taste the smile on his lips as they opened up for her. It was sloppy, but she could have done it for hours, licked into that mouth for hours, abused those plush, pliant lips until they were bruised and red and out of breath.

Jessa carded her fingers through his fluffy waves, fondled his earlobes, cupped his bloody handsome face. She fixed him with a long stare, curiosity laced with concern as her hands traveled down, kneaded at his wide shoulders.

“What happened?”

“Nothing, really.” Charlie tipped his head back with resignation. “It was stupid… I was helping move some props on stage, and…”

“Wait, props as in… cardboard furniture and shit?”

“Damn right, pour more salt on the wound,” He griped, “as if going down in front of the entire troupe wasn’t embarrassing enough.”

Jessa grinned madly. “And? What happened then?” She asked, bouncing a little, fully engaged in the story of his demise.

“I must have twisted the wrong way, pulled something out of whack, cause all of a sudden I couldn’t get up or down or fucking… walk straight.”

“Hahah! Just like that, huh? You’re a full member of the elderly now, congratulations.”

His hands, that had roamed to her ass, started groping it mercilessly, turning the little bounce into a full shakedown, as he menacingly wrinkled his nose and growled at her to wipe that shit eating look off her face. It obviously didn’t work and her giggles only intensified, but their breaths were fast and labored by the end of it, and it wasn’t just because of their little tussle.

The memory hit Charlie like a ton of bricks, making him pause. The place, the position, the exalted… violence of it all. It was all too eerily similar to their bumpy first time. They’d really had such a rocky start, him and Jessa, it was crazy to think how much things had changed. Alright, maybe… maybe they hadn’t changed that much; He still felt like walking on thin ice with her most of the time, but this, right now, felt different. She’d come to him, not because she had to but because she wanted to. She wanted to be with him.

Charlie’s brain was working overtime. Charlie’s hands had already moved on to other matters, more specifically her tits. “I want you,”

“Food first, big guy.”

“But—”

“Food first.” It was final.

“Fine, get the food.” He submitted kindly, not without throwing his tree trunk arms around her first, locking them loosely around her waist. She got the memo, she would have to get the food without leaving his lap, and she had to get into one hell of a stretch to be able to reach it too.

“I was supposed to buy you lunch.” Charlie groaned as she placed the steaming containers on his flattened tummy, got the forks and napkins out the bag too, setting the «table».

“Who said anything about buying?”

“I’m saying.” Charlie was bummed, but tried to see the bright side of it all. “Now I get to take you out two times.”

Jessa rolled her eyes and he playfully went to peck her cheek, but a crippling whip of pain paralyzed him as soon as he lifted an inch.

“JEsus-fuck!” He hit the back of the armchair with force, face pinched with the bitter reminder of his condition. He’d forgotten he was a temporary invalid, the way he forgot about everything when she was around.

“Stop. Moving. You’ll make a fucking mess.” Jessa berated him, poking at the food in one of the containers. “Here comes the little airplane…”

Charlie frowned and snatched the flying forkful of pad thai from her hand.

“That won’t be necessary,” He grumbled, proceeding to take the box to demonstrate how he could, indeed, perfectly feed himself. “But thanks.”

She ended up stuffing his face with spring rolls, dumplings and all kinds of other junk anyway, and his back stayed glued to the seat the remainder of the time.

When they were done, Charlie gathered all their trash inside the bag and flung it away with a devious smile.

“I was promised a sweet dessert.” He crooned, head hanging to the side.

“Well aren’t you a spoiled little brat.” Her hands explored the expanse of his body, smoothing over his shirt-clad chest as his thumbs rubbed warm circles into her hipbones.

“Not so sure about the little. In fact, I could swear some parts of me are only growing bigger right now.”

“Your ego, for one.”

Charlie didn’t take the bait, didn’t need that sort of intellectual battle right now, not when he was so fucking riled up from being pissed off all day, from thinking of the stupid way he’d missed her, missed having her all to himself. And now he did, he did, and he just…

His fingers sank into the flesh of her ass, pressing her down onto him.

“Feel that? What you do to me?” He was already breathless and she was far, way too far from him. “Fuck, baby, com’ere. Come closer.”

His knuckles brushed past her face, curling around her neck to gently coax her down to his mouth, needing to feel the wet slide of her tongue against his once more. Jessa slipped her hands under his black shirt and skated over his abdomen’s smooth skin, carefully rolling her hips as he whined, whined, whined for her. Because there wasn’t an inch of space between them and she was still not close enough, not as close as he needed her to be.

Charlie helped her grind against him, guiding her movements as he felt for her clit with weak, stunted nudges of his own hips. He quickly grew frustrated with himself, and sneaked a hand between them to caress her thighs, rubbing ever so slowly, ever so lightly across her scalding center, light enough to make her keen.

She was wearing some kind of hippyish yoga pants, the kind that are high but loose enough to just get past the waistband and—

“Shit—” Charlie swore under his breath, “How come you never… you’re always…”

“Underwear isn’t my thing. I skip it when I can, nothing to do with you.”

“Right… Ever told you what a fucking menace you are?” He said, voice dripping with darkness as he ran his fingers down her honeyed folds.

Jessa’s hands ventured higher up his chest, rubbing past his bare nipples on their way up, then again on their way down, smirking and humming at his rhetorical question. She knew what that did to him, how sensitive those pink little buttons were, and she loved to tease him endlessly. She would suck on them sometimes, get them warm and wet and stiff under her tongue. His cock would get so hard that it leaked… Not to talk about the wrecked sounds she was able to pull from him.

“A menace. Fucking look at you.”

She was soaking his hand, and his fingers slipped inside her soft cunt like second nature, nice and deep into her gripping heat as his thumb stroked the outside in tender swipes. She sounded so pretty and looked so damn good, he was losing his fucking mind. His hand went through all the motions that would undo her, fingertips pressing firmly against her soft walls. She was dripping down his wrist by the time she stood up, leaving Charlie dizzy.

Dizzy like—he looked at himself, and didn't recognize the person he was anymore. Who was that man? A man so desperate, so reckless, so… happy. When did that happen, how? He was a mad man with his head upside down and his heart inside out for a woman, this woman…

This breathtaking woman who was stripping before him, this mind reader crazy amazing paradox of a woman who knew exactly what to do tonight, just like every other night, but wasn’t being difficult about it or making him sweat, not tonight.

Jessa climbed back on his thighs and rubbed the hard ridge of his cock through his pants, pulling the elastic down so she could take him in her hands. He was red hot steel as she stroked him, thick and burning, thigh muscles flexing, twitching, straining for her, completely at her mercy.

“Let me be inside you please I can’t mo—ooh fuck, icantmove. I’ll cum all over your hands if you keep that up.”

“Naughty old man… Are you sure you can handle that?”

“Yes, fucking yes, need you so bad.”

Jessa showed him mercy yet again. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve that but he felt grateful all the same, breathed deep and steeled himself for her, to try and do good for her, God, he’d try.

His eyes fluttered closed the moment she started to take him in, thick lashes fanning over his pink flushed cheeks. He loosely grabbed at her thighs, arms heavy, breath heavier still, as he felt her shift from side to side. He sighed and nodded yes when she asked him if that was okay, if he was okay.

“That’s—good… You feel… so good, you feel amazing—”

She made him hot all over, his craving for her knew no end. He was fighting a losing battle with restraint, trying to stay still when every cell of his body was screaming for him to do more, do better, ignore the dull ache that was threatening at his spine. His bruising grip, gritted jaw and strenuous breath gave him away.

“Hey, easy… Let me.”

Jessa pushed down on his chest; he was still so fucking big, so fucking solid. His body wasn’t that tender after all, and it clearly needed more.

“M’fine, baby please…”

“Don’t be stubborn and let me. I won’t hold back, but you have to tell me if anything hurts, okay? Do you promise?”

Charlie groaned miserably, and that was all the confirmation she needed to get moving on him for real. His hands tightened low on her hips and moved with her, swayed with her. The swivel of the armchair helped, rocking them back and forth, back and forth. Jessa twisted her hips slightly as she went, earning some beautifully destroyed groans from him.

After a while he started to use the pull of his arms and the momentum to slam a little into her, eyes wide open now, searching hers from his vulnerable position. It was a look of pure hunger, and he couldn’t avoid the feeling of helplessness, of being so passive.

“Call me boss again?” It was a tentative suggestion, more than a demand.

“Don’t push it, Charlie—” She gasped as she fucked herself on his throbbing cock, feeling his feverish hands inflame her skin.

“Oh, fuck—say my name, that’s even better—it sounds so good when you say it, I wanna hear it all the time. Fuck, I wanna hear it when you cum.”

A soft whimper broke out of her throat at that. She felt glimmers of pleasure licking at her spine, but she wasn’t there yet, not yet. Charlie had brought her to new and unknown heights of bliss, he was actually the first man who’d made her come from just cock, and that alone could explain the reason why she kept coming back for more; the consistent, unparalleled way he could rail her. But that… that was back when his hips actually worked.

“Charlie—”

“You gon’ cum babe?”

She shook her head, stifling another moan. “Need a lil’ help—are you?”

“Any fucking second, but no rush.”

He made her laugh during sex; that was another good one, she guessed. Very few people could spark her acidic sense of humor, and even fewer matched her sexual energy as flawlessly as Charlie did. It was an unlikely combination, a dangerous fucking one too.

His thumb pressed on her clit, putting an end to her laughter and her musings all together, delivering the little help she needed—and then some. He rubbed a slippery line up and down, found the peak and rolled it gently, sending delicate quivers through her core. He knew his way around her body so well, he knew exactly how to touch her, and was patient enough to navigate her through her pleasure. His devotion poured endlessly and generously out of his fingertips.

He was truly a rare, glorious breed of lover, a giver, something unlike anything she’d ever seen.

And she just couldn’t stop taking. She wouldn’t stop until she’d taken everything from him, until he was an empty shell with nothing left to give. She hoped one day he’d realize what she was doing, and found the strength to walk away. She hoped one day he got to be with someone else, someone who could really give back. Someone who’d take care of him in the honest, unconditional way he deserved, the same way he took care of everyone around him. His infatuation with her couldn’t last, she knew the spell would break sooner or later.

Charlie chose that moment to look up and bore his molten dark eyes into hers, as if he was reading not only her body but her thoughts, too. Those eyes were shining, bleeding with a sentiment that frightened her, that she didn’t understand. She couldn’t make sense of what they held, of the things they made her feel.

“Charlie—” She cried brokenly.

It was much too intense, he was everywhere, her pleasure surged and became unbearable, inevitable. Something warm and wet stained her cheek as she orgasmed around his perfect fingers and cock, his name on her lips like a prayer, lost to the sky. Charlie was a total mess under her, trembling and groaning in deep, drawn out agony. Feeling her come on his cock made him finally lose it, his hips now canting in and out of her, the buildup of pleasure so strong and overwhelming it blurred any trace of pain away. Jessa couldn’t hold herself up any longer and Charlie’s heavy arms wrapped around her back, bringing her down against him.

She buried her face on his shoulder, feeling him mindlessly fuck into her. A couple soft thrusts were enough to make his breath catch, his blood rush, his nerves ignite and finally explode into fireworks.

Charlie tightened his embrace and panted in her ear as he unloaded in her, feeling her mouth at the slope of his neck. They stayed like that for countless long minutes while coming down, breathing against each other’s skins. Jessa didn’t dare look at him.

She didn’t know what the fuck just happened, what they’d just shared. It felt like something way too deep and raw had come out, something personal that should have stayed a secret. Charlie’s pleasure-weak hand stroked the length of her hair against her back, tracing the golden strands carefully, thoughtfully slow. It was unusual for her to want to hold him for so long.

He cupped the back of her head and burrowed beside her ear, voice so achingly soft when he asked,

“Hey… you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m… yeah.” Jessa’s voice was almost inaudible too, but they were still pressed so close that he could hear it. “What about you… your back?”

“Fine,” He murmured, staring at the ceiling, “don’t worry about it.”

“It hurt.” She knew. She’d heard him and hadn’t done anything about it.

“It was worth it.”

He felt Jessa start to push back and he stuck his elbows onto the seat to chase her, capturing her mouth in one last warm, salty kiss, before she slipped away.

You’re worth it, he thought, and channeled that exact feeling into the kiss, wanting her to know that he didn’t regret it, that he’d do it all over again. But he couldn’t hold himself up for long, the high was wearing off and his senses were returning with a vengeance. The back was killing him.

When he reclined back, limp as a rag, she could see the strain on his face, the skin under his jaw folding into an endearing double, no—triple chin.

Charlie gave her a goofy smile then, the same she’d seen him give Henry when he wanted to make him laugh. He was such a dork, and he was probably feeling self conscious with his dick still trapped inside her. Jessa forced a smile of her own and hopped off, leaving him to tuck himself away.

“I have those pills…” He pointed at them with his eyes,

“Ah!” Jessa threw her clothes on and fetched the orange prescription bottles from a table nearby. She held them up, reading the labels like a wine connoisseur would. “Painkillers…” She hummed in assent, “Muscle relaxants!” She continued, more excitedly. “Junkie jackpot, man!”

Charlie snorted and took the pills from her, swallowing them with his big ol’ puppy eyes glued to hers as she watched him with her arms crossed.

“Are you leaving?” He tentatively asked.

“I’mma help you to bed, first.”

Charlie raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Now?”

“Unless you wanna sleep here?” She snapped.

“No, of course not.” He admitted, sheepishly.

Charlie planted his hands firmly on the armrests, tried his footing and heaved himself up with a huff. He managed to stand, keeping a white knuckled grip on the back of the chair.

Jessa came up to him and smoothed a hand up the curve of his back. “Can you walk?”

“Um—”

Charlie felt the beginnings of a cold sweat saturating his skin the second he tried to let go. Black spots threatened at his vision when he felt Jessa’s body wedge into his side, shoulders under his arm, arms around his waist, taking some of the burden away. He took a few ragged breaths, getting a hold of his fucked up self. His bones still trembled like jello, but at least the world had stopped spinning around him.

“Come on, you’re doing great. Let’s go.”

Her arm snaked tighter around his waist and together they took a step, and then another, and another, until slowly but surely, making it to his bed.

He dropped on top of the comforter with a grunt, feeling so horribly tired. He was exhausted, and grieving the loss of her body around his already.

“Than…k…y…” Charlie saw her leave just then, before he could finish the thought; his eyelids drooped, too heavy to hold… there was no point in keeping them open with her gone.

He was out cold a minute later when Jessa returned with a throw blanket from the couch. Muscle relaxants were sedatives, after all. There was a reason they told you not to drive on those, behemoth sized or not.

Chapter Text

“JessaaaaaaA!!!”

Henry leaped down the steps of the school entrance, crashing into her legs  with a face splitting smile.

“Hey, little devil.” She ruthlessly ruffled his hair, making him recoil with a snigger. “Been a minute, what’ve you been up to?”

“I stayed at Kevin’s last night! I slept in a bunk bed!” He bragged with pride.

“That all you did?”

“No!! We played on his Play Station too, he has this amazing game, and he has a TV in his bedroom…”

“Why are you whispering now?”

“ShhHussssh!” Henry urgently beckoned her down, and she bent her knees to let him cup a small hand in her ear. “We played all afternoon and then… when we went to bed, and his parents were asleep, we played again until… MIDNIGHT, or more.”

“Well props to Kevin,” Jessa said coolly, “for showing you a good time.” She then took the extra bag he was carrying and grabbed his hand to start walking down the street. “I knew you were up to no good.”

“You can’t tell dad…!”

“I would never! I’m on your side, we all need to let loose from time to time, am I right?”

“Yaaasss!” He clung to her arm, cheerfully skipping a step. Jessa huffed a laugh as she endured the unexpected yank to her side.

“Did you talk to your dad?”

“Yep.”

“So you know he’s having a bit of a rough time right now,”

“Yep.”

“that he whacked his back picking up cardboard.”

Henry giggled, “He told me he was lifting heavy stuff at work.”

“It was cardboard.” Jessa insisted. “Don’t tell him I told you though, it would hurt his also fragile pride.”

“What’s fragile mean?”

“Like… weak. Don’t tell him that.”

“I won’t if you keep my secret.” He grinned up at her.

“Jeez, kid! Easy with the blackmail, I already told you I wouldn’t squeak.”

“Gotta make sure nothing upsets him, right? Since he’s so fragile and weak.”

Fuck, the kid learned fast.

“Right. He’s gonna be home when we get there, should we pick up some dinner for you guys? I’m not sure he’ll be able to cook yet.”

Henry was thoughtful for a good few seconds.

“I mean I can try and cook something myself, but…—”

“Isn’t it Thursday?” He retorted.

“Yeah, so?”

“It’s pizza and movie night.”

“Pizza and movie night! Okay, cool… So that’s sorted.”

🚸 🚸 🚸

“I’m here to deliver your first-born.” Jessa announced as they barged through Charlie’s door, finding him bent over his laptop on the kitchen island. He had a pair of nerdy reading glasses on, that he got rid of a bit too quickly, and was wearing the same soft pair of sweatpants, the black t-shirt gone and replaced by an immaculately white cotton undershirt with a slutty v-neck. The fabric of it stretched deliciously over his plump chest as he extended his arm to take Henry’s hand, which Jessa was holding up in offering. Charlie’s palm easily swallowed both of theirs, dragging them to him.

“Thank you, milady.” He bowed his head, lips brushing over her knuckles as he gave her the most loaded glance in the history of loaded glances. But it was fleeting, his eyes quickly falling to his son as he broke into a beaming smile. “Hi, buddy.”

“Hey, dad!” Henry hugged his free arm around Charlie’s knee, as another huge hand came down to affectionately rub his head.

“I missed you, how was the sleepover? Did you have fun?”

“Yes, we did, we did our homework… and had dinner… and I ate everything, and I slept on a bunk bed! All night!”

Charlie found that last remark kind of odd, but he let it slide.

“Nice! Very nice, I’m glad.”

“Kevin’s going as muscle man for halloween, he got a suit made of muscles! No skin!”

“Yuck! We have to seriously start thinking about our costumes soon, don’t we?”

“Yeah, yeah, so how’s your back? Can I see?”

“There’s nothing to see,” Charlie laughed, “It’s good, just a little sore.”

Jessa eyed Charlie up and down. He was basically standing, propped on the stool just slightly. Those pants hiked viciously around his strong looking thighs and—

“Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I was sick of moping around all day…”

Her lips pressed in a tight, accusatory line.

“Just stretching my legs, okay?”

Jessa squared her hips and shoulders, and he knew she was seconds away from crossing her arms on him as her glare intensified.

“I’ll be back on the couch in a minute.” He placated.

“Alright, good; good to see you’re doing better. I’m gonna peace out.”

“Wait, I just ordered a sh—ton of pizza. Do you want to watch Gremlins with us?”

Henry’s instant shouts for joy filled the room, as Jessa looked between the two boys.

“Gremlins? How very appropriate.”

“I’m showing him the classics!” Charlie opened his arms wide, quirking up his eyebrows with an easy smile.

🎬  🎬  🎬

All three of them were huddled on the couch less than half an hour later, Henry in the middle, eyes like saucers from the very first scene.

“See, that’s the shop where your dad got you.” Jessa told him around a mouthful of pizza, pointing at the TV with the half eaten slice.

“It’s not!”

“Yes, it is. You were a baby, so you wouldn’t remember.”

“No it’s not! Dad!!”

“Of course it’s not, the store where I got you wasn’t in Chinatown.”

Henry crossed his arms indignantly, scowling back at the screen. “Ha-ha. Now hush, you’re making me miss the movie.”

Jessa cackled, meeting Charlie’s mirthful gaze and growing dimples.

🍕 🍕 🍕

“Yo, this movie’s gnarly!” Jessa hooted as a series of evil gremlins were brutally slaughtered in a kitchen.

“It’s certainly bloodier than I remembered…” Charlie murmured, all color drained from his face as his eyes shot apprehensively from the TV to Henry.

“It’s all fake dad, look!” He enthusiastically pointed at the stabbing that was taking place. “The blood’s green!”

“Yeah Charles, it’s just puppets. Don’t be afraid.”

He remained as tense as a mousetrap until the last gremlin exploded into a puddle of slimy guts inside a microwave, and the scene was finally over.

“That was awesome!” Henry jumped in his seat, throwing punches in the air.

Charlie sighed, slumping back into the cushions and draping his arms behind the couch in a hopefully laid back gesture. It would be okay; Henry would. He wasn’t the young, impressionable child he used to be, even though he still thought of him as his baby somehow. But the reality was that his son was growing, and fast… and that he was completely missing out on it. Since that fateful fucking day the judge decided to take him away; Since that fucking shit-show of a trial that kicked him to rock-bottom in the lowest, darkest moment of his life. He still couldn’t think back on those days without feeling a suffocating sense of fear, without his throat constricting, hands fucking trembling with the dread of it.

Something warm and delicate brushed his finger.

The movie had toned down and Jessa had also leaned back, extending her arms along the back of the couch. It might have been an accident when their fingers touched, but she didn’t make to recoil. Charlie’s head whipped from their hands to her face. She was looking at him too, expression warm but unreadable, and she didn’t move when he tentatively brushed his index back against hers. His eyes flew to a completely oblivious Henry, then back to hers, lips curling up a fraction. Jessa quickly looked back at the TV, hiding her face beneath the curtain of her hair as he felt her nimble fingers tangling with his.

It was sweet. It was innocent. It felt childlike and forbidden. The way they secretly touched made time fly by, but their little game of handsies ended as abruptly as the credits started to roll, blasting aggressive synth music at their flustered faces. It would have been obvious and so painfully awkward if Henry hadn’t already been blissfully snoring on the pillows.

Charlie chuckled in mild embarrassment, rubbing his hands stiffly up and down his thighs. “That’s weird, he doesn’t usually fall asleep like that.”

Jessa knew that gremlin had his reasons for being tired, but she was no snitch.

“Yeah, weird… he seemed to be digging it so much!”

“He did, didn’t he? …Well, anyway. I better put him to bed.”

Charlie stood with a quiet groan and limped sideways, clutching the back of the couch with one hand as he tried to gather Henry in his arms with the other.

“Charlie—” Jessa stood and swatted him away, as if he was an annoying swarm of flies. “Sit the fuck down.”

He plopped back on the couch without resistance, looking with sheepish eyes as she draped his son’s arms around her shoulders and smoothly scooped him up. Henry did that thing little children do where he stirred a bit and opened his bleary eyes for a second to check what was going on. As soon as he saw it was Jessa, he tightened his arms around her neck and let his head fall back on her shoulder, safe in her embrace.

Something inexplicably sharp twisted inside Charlie’s heart, making it real hard for him not to picture all the things that he could never have.

Henry in his life for good. Jessa in his life for real. A life with them. Another shot at family…

… More babies?, the unhinged voice in the back of his consciousness supplied.

Look at her, just fucking look at her.

“You’re staring.” Jessa drawled as she cradled Henry’s head and turned away, disappearing down the hall without another word.

His bottom lip stuck out against his will, a hand immediately going to muss his hair. He couldn’t be thinking of those things, he couldn’t. Rationally speaking, he knew he was nothing but a distraction to her. A pastime, a secret fuck. There were lines he couldn’t cross, unspoken rules he had to accept so that the game could go on. And he did, or at least tried to, partly because his own heart couldn’t afford otherwise. It couldn’t afford to live off an impossible, stupid delusion, and every day he had to convince himself that what they had was enough. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking those things about her, but he just couldn’t help it.

A big ziploc bag landed on his lap, shocking him out of the whirlwind of his thoughts. The sharp, citrusy, skunky smell that hit his nostrils left no doubt as to what its contents were.

“You—Come here, what the fuck’s this? What did you bring?”

“Medicine for your back.”

“Girl, this looks like a felony amount of medicine to me…” He rumbled, eyebrows shooting up in mischief as Jessa shrugged.

“In some states, maybe. I know how to charm my way out of a police station, anyway.”

“You’re bad.” His tone dropped an octave.

“I’m really bad.”

“You’re a terrible thing and I need you to roll. I can’t roll for shit.”

“Want me to teach you?”

“Have you seen my fingers?”

Oh, she’d seen ‘em. Touched them. Felt them on her, in her.

Jessa stepped between his spread thighs, wrapping his two pointer fingers in her fists. It really was insane. The thickness, the length, it was all exaggerated, like he was a different species, almost.

“They look fine to me.”

Charlie curled those wicked fingers, trapping her hands and pulling in until her knees hit the couch and she was falling over his lap. His arms surrounded her in an instant, gathering her in his all-consuming hold. She felt a deep, contented hum in his chest, and then the tip of his nose tracing her collarbone, the slope of her shoulder, her neck. Playful and tender, just breathing her in. The nose was occasionally followed by a gentle brush of his lips, achingly light as he murmured against her skin.

“You should stop being so nice to me or I’m gonna believe it.”

Jessa shook her head, looking down and matching his quiet tone. “I think you know better than that, Barber.”

“You do it to make me crazy, don’t you—” His mouth nuzzled a tender spot right below her jaw, lips parting to suck a hot, wet mark there.

“Maybe.” Her breath hitched up a notch, not knowing the exact answer herself.

“Just wanted to thank you, is all.”

He soothed the reddened skin with soft lingering kisses, making sure the mark would fade before morning. This was just for tonight, just for his eyes, something only he got to see.

“Then you’ve gone completely insane,” She managed to answer hoarsely.

“Good.”

She felt teeth then, the ghosting touch of his canines following the column of her throat, as his hands slid from her waist to her breasts.

“Excellent—,” Jessa threw her head back, raking her nails through his silky dark mane as she let him feast on her, lower and lower, until he squeezed her tits over her top and gave a couple of contained bites at the flesh that managed to spill out.

Contained because he didn’t want to start slobbering all over her just yet. He knew he just wouldn’t be able to control it, any of it, if he kept going. And because the talk they were having… it felt kind of meaningful, maybe, potentially revealing. He barely knew anything about her, not that he hadn’t tried; he’d insistently tried, time and time again to know her better, to know more about her life, her replies always vague or sarcastic. He felt compelled to push a bit more now, dare her to take the praise, to accept his gratitude for once. Maybe, if he was lucky, find out what made her so wary of doing so.

Her fingertips slipped from his glossy strands as he lifted his head, and she wondered at the contrast in his textures as her nails caught on the beginnings of a stubble that wasn’t there the day before. Charlie closed his eyes and made a low sound, halfway between a hum and a purr, warm and roiling as she scraped along the masculine line of his jaw to his full, flushed, supple, perfectly puckered lips. Another disturbing fucking contrast she’d be be mad about, if she could only justify it.

“Jess...?”

Charlie felt her pause, the pads of her thumbs spreading the bow of his upper lip.

“You’ve got the mouth of a breastfeeding toddler.”

He scoffed lightly, smiling as his eyes fluttered open - that was not the direction he’d imagined the conversation going, but one could never, ever tell when it came to her. His amusement quickly died down when he saw the incandescent way she was looking at him, it absolutely fucking floored him.

Charlie’s throat bobbed as he slowly swallowed.

“Don’t you pout at me. It’s indecent, you know that? It makes no sense. Look at all that… muscle, all that mass.” She ran her hands up his forearms, his grip on her hips tightening a fraction. “You’d expect it to feel rough, hard to the touch.”

Was she roasting him?

“But no,” She continued, fingers dipping under the sleeves to circle the thick swells of his shoulders. “your rough, brutal body… is wrapped in baby skin.”

She seemed genuinely upset over… random genetic traits he had literally no control over? Then again, the way she was touching him betrayed her words, neutralized every bit of aggravation in her rambling, and it was also turning him the fuck on.

“It’s absurd, illogical—”

“You like it,” He smirked knowingly, touching his forehead to hers.

“You make no sense.” She whispered against his lips.

Charlie purr-growled, sandwiching her face in his meaty hands as he pressed his lips to hers for the very first time that night. It felt like oxygen after having been drowning all day, but he paced his need to savor her in all of her delicious glory. Her sweet fucking lips first. A little lick to tease them open; a slide of his tongue against hers, another one on his. On and on and on until they were a melting, sighing, hopelessly horny mess.

Without so much of a warning, Charlie tugged her top down and lurched forward to her tits, wet swollen lips sucking at all they could reach, all sloppy tongue and scratchy chin.

“Let me go you freak!” She shrieked.

“I’m a baby!”

“A very obnoxious one—”

“Feed me now, or I’ll throw a fit like you’ve never seen!” Charlie threatened between giggles, dodging elbows as she fought to untangle herself from his grabby paws.

Jessa scrambled to her feet, wholly breathless but still holding onto him, a manic smile dead set on her lips.

“Come on then,” She pulled.

Charlie growled and sagged his muscles, just to fuck with her.

“Fuck’s sake, help me out a little? How heavy are you?”

She pulled and pulled as he laughed and laughed, finally accepting part of her aid. His free arm pushed behind him, bringing him fully off the couch, but he never made it to his full height. He preferred to stay where he could suck on her neck and fondle her sexy, previously inaccessible ass, while she gasped in his ear and clawed at his shirt, stumbling backwards to his bedroom.

Chapter Text

Charlie loved being in this mood with her. The joking, the laughter, the dopey, shameless flirting. The ease of it all. They’d made out like teenagers on the damn couch, but even that had felt like a relaxed, bordering on domestic affair. Hell, he was relaxed. When they’d finally found themselves in the privacy of his bedroom, everything had slowed down. He’d laid on his back and had her sit on his face, where he’d spread her on his tongue and made her thighs shake, licking a surprisingly quick, easy orgasm from her. Far from sated, he’d only given her pause to flip her around and keep eating her from behind, and that’s what he was doing now.

The new angle helped him leave her clit alone, so tempting but still too tender to be sucked on, and allowed him to drink her straight from the source, lips lavishing her entrance, tongue massaging in and out of her engorged pussy, softening it, getting it nice and wet and ready for him.

He couldn’t fuck her into the mattress just yet, but that was okay; he wanted to make her ride him next. He wanted her relaxed and moving slowly, so fucking sensual on him, hand tight under her jaw the way she liked. Make it last long, feel her for hours, let her feel him all fucking night—There was no rush, but his eager cock swelled at the thought all the same, straining painfully hard against his sweats.

Yeah, this was good. He could get used to this, maybe he was already. He’d almost convinced himself it was enough, almost believed it this time. The fact alone she let him have her like this… Wasn’t that a miracle in and of itself? A damned privilege, and more than he could ever have hoped for?

Charlie felt her start to grind down on him, his baby needed it, needed more. That’s when he began tonguing her clit, soft steady passes, hands splayed on her cheeks, thumbs opening her up. She tasted so damn good it wasn’t long before he was sinking his face in as far as he could, purposefully neglecting his need to breathe.

Jessa was blessing him with the hottest moans when she staggered forward and planted her hands on his abs, rocking back slightly against his tongue. He took the chance to draw a big breath through his nose, and released it in a long, deep hum against her folds that made her fall further, hands sliding to his crotch. Charlie felt her fingers roam, flexing with interest along his twitching erection.

“Mhhmmh, honey—you don’t have to—oh—.”

But she was already taking his dick out, tucking the waistband of his new favorite pants tight under his balls, leaving him standing like a flagpole to lick a bold line up the front of his shaft.

“Oh, fuck.” He sputtered, legs jerking out of his control. They’d never done that before.

“Don’t speak, Charlie. Keep going.” She pressed her lips to the crown, tongue swirling a slippery circle around the head as her fists closed at the base.

Charlie exhaled in a fast puff, delving back into her cunt with renewed urgency, before he lost his fucking mind and ripped the sheets off the bed.

Jessa took more and more of his pulsing length into her mouth, wetting his whole girth in the most achingly, erotic way with suckling lips and tongue and fuck—He tensed, stifling a harsh groan against her pussy, trying and failing to remember last time he’d even gotten head.

She was quick and merciless, he should have known it, going to town on his cock like she did, in a way he didn’t think he could stand for very long. Charlie’s plush lips sealed around her clit, suctioning in hot, wet pulses that made her gasp and momentarily pause her ministrations. He might have been close, but she was closer—he could hear it in the noises she made, sending insane vibrations around his cock; They were sounds he knew so well, practically by heart, a symphony that lived rent free inside his head. He sped up on the last notes, the grip of his arms stronger around her hips, pushing her down onto his mouth; no more teasing.

Jessa came hard on his feverish tongue, a rush of victory coursing through his veins as she got off his cock for air, panting hot breaths against his slicked up skin.

It was a brief reprieve, his head slamming right back against the pillow as she immediately started sucking on him again; she clearly wanted to kill him, kill him and get his apartment, get all of his snacks or whatever. He didn’t care, he’d gladly serve her his head on a platter if she asked for it, just not yet. Charlie grit his teeth and thrust his hips once, twice, barely able to slow down as he felt himself bump the back of her throat.

“Shit, that’s—Fuck, you’re good—with your mouth, but—” His long arms found her shoulders, easing her gently away.

“Not good enough?” She goaded.

What a brat. What a bully.

“Too good baby,” Wet and messy and like a god damned dream, Jesus, he was a god damned mess. He needed to make it right. “But I haven’t prepped this pussy not to fuck it, have I?”

Charlie twisted a finger into her dripping heat, not far, just the blunt tip teasing at the entrance, where he felt the riding aftershocks of her climax. His dick jerked up in her fist.

“Christ. I haven’t even stretched you…” He slurred huskily against her yielding flesh, another thick digit joining the first, rimming at the beginning of her soft channel, mouth running all the while. “Fuck, can you feel that? Can you hear how ready you are for me? I know this hot pussy will just swallow my cock, babe. I think it needs to be filled, go for a ride… What do you think?”

“Sounds like a plan, you greedy bastard…” Jessa was out of it, because she couldn’t, she just couldn’t, when he spoke to her in that way. With that lovely, filthy mouth; With the way he throbbed in her hands, cockhead dribbling cum.

“That’s what I thought…” Charlie slapped her ass, a necessity, large palm giving it a soft squish before trailing down the back of her thigh. “Turn around, I want to fucking see you.” His hands never left the curves of her body as he guided her to straddle him with an ease that made her dizzy.

The black pools that greeted her eyes were way too soft, way too expressive and at odds with the confident swagger of his talk. As if he was seeking some sort of blessing still, as if he didn’t know he had her stomach churning, dying for it, her pleasure-addled brain wondering what the hell took her so god damn long;

Jessa thrust her hips upward, sliding and writhing against his erection, fingers pressing at the other side of his shaft. A deep, ragged sound ripped out of him as his grip on her waist tightened, lifting her the rest of the way to where he wanted her, angling her body against his cock.

“Sit on it, sweetheart. Easy.” He sounded gravelly, affected, in pain even. “I need you to go slow, understand?”

She froze with him notched just at the entrance. “I’ll be more careful this time…”

“S’not that, I—I don’t want to cum.”

“You don’t?”

“N-no, not… yet. Okay babe? Think you can do that for me?” His voice was like thick velvet now, spreading through her like a calming balm.

Of course she’d do it; anything he wanted.

The thought felt so foreign in her head that it startled her for a moment, but she forcefully squashed it down. She’d freak out about it later, whenever the time came to dwell on… on the hand holding, the snogging, the kissing. The kissing as if they were—as if he was—no; That shit would normally make her want to throw up. And she did want to throw up—just for very different reasons. All the wrong reasons. Of course she’d freak about it, later, with a cold head.

Because now? Now, her emotional boundaries had been turned into a fucking joke. The earth shattering, psychedelic orgasms he so consistently gave her, the way he looked at her, the way he was touching her now, palms running over her thighs, promising so much more… He wanted her slow, he’d have her slow. She wouldn’t be able to blame her scrambled head on a savage pounding this time.

“How slow?”

Charlie smiled at her, eyes glowing with tenderness, one of his hands moving to her hip. The other dragged up to her neck and she immediately leaned into it, his steady fingers supporting her, barely pinching the sides of her throat as she gradually sank on his cock, making them both groan.

“Very slow.”

Her entire body relaxed, and he was there to catch her. To show her.

💦  💦  💦

Charlie watched Jessa’s inked fingers work with a hazy fascination, as they carefully packed and rolled the thin paper into a tight, perfectly shaped little tube. European style, she’d said. He watched it all from above, her back pulled against his chest, his arms draped around her tummy like a seat belt. She said nothing when he pressed a balmy kiss to her hairline, too focused on her task, maybe. He kept staring either way, and found himself reflexively licking his lips when her tongue came out to wet the long line of glue.

They should have opened the window, let the chilly air seep in. But disturbing the gloriously naked, post sex warmth they had going under the sheets? That was never going to happen, not even if he felt like his brain was already hot-boxing. Charlie hadn’t lasted long, not as long as he wanted of course. She’d been good though. Soft and slow and for him, came on his cock like a dream, made him fucking insane with it, as he inevitably surged and spilled hotly inside. Maybe that was the fucking problem. He couldn’t get enough, and he couldn’t fool himself into thinking that he could anymore. It was inevitable and it was careening out of control; he’d always had issues with his fucking control.

Jessa lit the fat end of the joint, turning it so it would burn evenly, and brought it to life on her lips, an actual, fucking proper smoke-show. She made a delighted sound, and held the tip up to his lips.

White and thick, the smoke tasted almost sweet on his tongue as it went smoothly down his lungs. He shuddered as it wafted out, equally as smooth, and took the joint from her fingers to hit it again, long and lazy on the way in, holding it down for a few seconds.

Charlie’s senses faded a notch, as if immersing further underwater. His anxious thoughts got quieter, more manageable as he let the last of the smoke billow out. He watched the cloudy ribbons rise, twist, and dissipate in the completely still air, found it fucking fascinating too.

“Puff, puff, pass!” Jessa swept the spliff from his hands.

“Hey, you’re cramping my style!” He whined, startled.

“You did not just say that.”

Charlie growled low and menacing against her back and squeezed her tightly from behind, to which she only took the chance to get more comfortable, lean back a little further. Charlie pressed his nose to her hair, watching her perfect mouth blow perfect little circles, silky and twirly and almost too heavy to float. He watched them, until they became elongated, disfigured versions of themselves, inevitably adding to the surrounding haze.

She nudged his hand to pass him the joint just as he remembered something—Something from college?

“Hold up, can you make just one more of those? I wanna check something.”

“Sure thing, weirdo.”

Jessa blew a truly memorable fucking smoke ring for him, couldy and swirling with blue and greenish hues at the edges. It slowly expanded right in front of their eyes, positioning itself perfectly for his stupidly dumb stunt; a quick snap of his fingers under the ring created a pulse in the air that wrinkled the top and the bottom of it down, drawing a wiggly, sketchy but oh so obvious… heart shape.

Jessa tensed in his arms, coming off his chest as it started to jolt with laughter, his forearms drawn up, shielding his face from the likely upcoming violence.

“You absolute jackass!”

Charlie snorted and endured a few pinches and tickles to his underboob as retaliation, and that was that. Maybe she was warming up to his special brand of intimate trigger teasing, maybe she was warming up to him… Or maybe, like him, she was just high on sex hormones and lungfuls of dank smoke.

“I can’t believe that worked!” He admitted, draping his heavy arms back around her.

Jessa reclined back on his chest and nuzzled there, their laughter dying down. Like smoke rings, it all weakened and disintegrated eventually. The heart ring did too.

🔥  🔥  🔥

It was only natural that not a long time at all after that, his mouth found purchase on the crook of her neck, settling against her pulse. That it nibbled there, on the sensitive skin, making her stomach swoop.

And that his hand wandered low, low on her belly and past her navel, fingers seeking her blooming desire once again.

The ends of his soft hair tickled her chest and shoulder, and his breath warmed her skin as he stroked her, gliding in their mess from before with a shaky half-groan. Charlie’s already hard cock strained heavy against the top of her ass, and he only stopped with the neck kisses to adjust their position to one where he could hold her and rock into her from behind.

🔥  🔥  🔥

“Not tucking me in tonight?”

Jessa was leaving again, and again he had to pretend like he was fine with it. He tried to buy himself time, just one more minute of her company, needy fool that he was.

“You tuck yourself in, big boy.”

“I really liked it when you did that.”

“You ain’t crippled anymore, so you do it.”

“Kiss me?”

“God’s sake—What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothin’—” He wanted her to spend the night. “I want to fuck you more.”

“…And I want a million dollars…”

“I’ll give you ten.”

“Dollars?”

“Million dollars—” He boasted.

“You’ve never even seen ten million dollars!”

“You are not wrong, technically, but—”

“STOP trying to pimp me out,”

A rich, hearty laugh tumbled from his lips, absurdly tantalizing.

“Charlie! I have work in the morning!”

“I don’t… I mean, I’ll probably work from here.” He chuckled, finally seeming to embrace defeat. “I’ll text you… about Henry.”

Charlie got off the bed with a grunt, sauntering towards the window as naked as the day he was born and cracking it open.

“Okay.” Jessa started, tying up her Converses. “Great, then—”

But this insatiable, still partially disabled creature was somehow all over her again, pressing her to the door, assaulting her mouth with his soft lips and thick freaking thigh pinned right between her legs. His large hands slid up her body, not leaving a single inch untouched, settling on either side of her jaw as he continued to consume her, to inflame her.

He was hot to the touch, bare back radiating under her palms, cock burning where it pressed against her stomach. He thrust his thigh higher still, making her whine into his mouth, where he was still biting and bruising and nipping and licking ravenously at her. Jessa squirmed, hot arousal starting to flow all over her insides.

But then Charlie slowed to a stop, speaking so deeply it was almost a growl…

“Jus’ gettin’ ma kiss.”

Then he clicked the door behind her open, eyes low as his other arm eased her down, dragging her and her cunt slowly against the solid front of his body. His mouth followed hers, pecking it softly, wishing her a good night.

He spoke so quietly, and Jesus Christ, it was dark, but she could see the man was rock hard and ready to go again. Jessa was looking up at him, heart wild with the insane outburst of need and desire only he could bring about. And still, he was honoring her decision to leave, like he had every single time.

She actually was tempted… It did seem to be mating season for the white water buffalo in New York, but if there were any rules to this thing of theirs... she was sure she had already broken enough of them in a day to break the number one rule on top of that.

Jessa disentangled from him, leaving only her palms on his meaty pecs. “Night.” She looked up at him, biting her lip and softly patting his chest, slapping his cheek… except it was more like a stroke… except, she was actually caressing his throat now, his irredeemably handsome face, wiping her thumb across his lip. “Fuck’s sake, Charlie.” The man was a devil for doing this to her.

They both started to grin like idiots but then he hung his head, grazing her lips just so and whispering “Go,” as he pushed the door wider behind her.

When she decided to ruin Charlie Barber, she never expected to see this side of him. She never knew the unholy things he would do to her. She never expected her heart to flutter like it did.

Chapter Text

Charlie burst into the cafe one cold November morning, hands fisted in the pockets of his dark slacks, rain dappling the shoulders of his coat. Some of it had caught in his hair and stood suspended like little sparkly gems.

Jessa cashed her last customer’s coffee to go, taking another look at the brooding human lump in the background. There was something wrong with his eyes, and he wouldn’t meet her gaze. She waited until said previous customer scampered off, to shout over her shoulder.

“Ron! I’m taking five!” She looked around, it was a slow fucking day.

And then.

Then, she caught Charlie’s eyes.

“Make it ten!” She called again, getting increasingly restless.

“Take your time girlie, I’ve got ya.” Ron came out from wherever the fuck with a cloth on his shoulder, ready to shine some counters.

Jessa met Charlie at the back, offered him a cigarette that he ignored.

“Nicole called. She wants him back.” Was all he said, voice rough.

“How—I mean… What?” She offered stupidly.

“Nicole…” He started again, quickly growing agitated. “She called me, like just now, I’m in my office, and she—she says she wants him back, and it’s so soon, and I… yelled. I yelled a lot.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, shielding his eyes. “Fuck.”

“Wait, can she do that? Isn’t it… your turn or whatever?”

“Henry’s schooling is in California… She basically has full custody. My turn is never.”

“That’s a load of fucking bullshit… But when…?”

“Thanksgiving.”

That was in a week or less. What a bitch.

Charlie exhaled, looking up at the overcast white and grey sky, eyes glassy and just as clouded over. “I’d go down there to at least spend Christmas with him, but I can’t even do that, with the premiere and all.”

The premiere of his play… that was soon, too. He’d given her a ticket.

“Fucking hell, Charlie.” Her hand came up to his stiff arm, hopefully soothing. “Guess this is it…”

He nodded. “Yeah. It looks like it is.”

“He’ll be back, sooner than you know it.”

“Maybe—Maybe I can get him for spring break. For a few days, maybe…” Charlie sounded wrecked, absolutely broken for his child.

Jessa nodded, absorbing the consequences of the new situation. “Will you… call me, when he gets back?”

“Of course I’ll call you, why…?—Wait, what do you mean? What do you mean this is it?”

Her hand dropped from his arm and wrapped around herself, and Charlie’s stomach plummeted.

“I mean obviously… This is it for us, too. I won’t be around anymore, so why would we—”

“Why? I thought we were friends, friends… who fuck? Aren’t we?” He’d managed to keep his voice even up until that point, but he was panicking, his chest caving in.

“That was fun, but we can’t—”

“Fun? That’s all it was for you?”

All I was. Was. Talking in past already hurt, already cut deep.

“Why do you care?” Jessa sniped back, unbreakable.

He blinked past the heat in his eyes, unable to see fucking straight.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I’m sorry I care about you! Sorry I don’t want to stop seeing you, for some twisted reason I don’t understand!”

Charlie’s anger bloomed like an open wound, bleeding over him in sickening waves. “If you don’t want me just say it, if you’re sick of me, bored of kicking me around, be honest for fucking once and just say it.” He spat venomously, a blank, lifeless look in his eye. She was done, done doing this to him.

“That’s the thing, Charlie! You can’t care about me, You can’t fucking—I would destroy you!”

“You already have!!!” He bellowed. “…you already have.”

His stress was skyrocketing to punching holes through the wall level and he paced, raking his hair back as his chest heaved up and down, up and down, like a steam train. Jessa just stood there, weathering the storm as Charlie grimaced, knowing that not all the pain and self-hatred in the world would be able to stop him now.

“Why the fuck—why did you have to give me that fucking paper, huh? With your fucking number on it, WHY?! I was doing fine until I met you, I never wanted this—I WAS SUPPOSED TO NEVER SEE YOU AGAIN!”

He pointed his finger at her and now; oh, now, she was pissed.

“YOU kept calling me, Charlie! You can’t just pin this on me, that’s—you’re such a fucking hypocrite!! I can’t, I can’t even—”

“I made a mistake!” Charlie yelled. “I fell in love with you! I’m in love with you!! FUCK!!!”

Jessa’s heart gave a painful squeeze, but she didn’t miss a beat.

“You’re not. You’re not in love with me—you’re lonely.”

“Lonely,” Charlie moved his trembling fingers from his lips and laughed, a cruel, desperate sound. “Who’s the fucking hypocrite now?”

“I’m so out of here.”

“No, you’re not—you’re not fucking leaving! you don’t get to do that! You can’t walk out of every situation the moment things get a tiny bit uncomfortable for you, it’s not fucking fair!”

Their brawl was soon going to alarm someone or worse, get the cops called on him.

“OH, FUCK YOU!” She yelled in his face, keeping a safety distance between them, if nothing else. “You rotten, condescending bastard. I changed my mind, don’t ever call me again! And if I ever have to read another one of your miserable texts again I swear I’ll fucking have to kill myself!! We’re DONE.”

🌧️🌧️🌧️

Charlie was hyperventilating, curled into himself against the alley wall with his hands knotted in his hair. Jessa was long gone. Henry would soon follow. Everything was crumbling and his heart raced, it was gonna beat right out of his throat as it went fast, way faster than it ever should. He was dying. No; He was having a panic attack—one of the worst of his life.

He squeezed his eyes and felt himself shake like a leaf, body threatening to shut down as the static in his ears grew too loud to hear anything else. He wouldn’t have minded being relieved from consciousness right in that moment, and maybe he was, maybe he was for a while.

Because when Ron found him there at the end of his shift, Charlie supposed, it was darker and it was drizzling harder, his own coat considerably damper.

“You again? Blondie clocked out early. She ain’t here.”

No she ain’t fuckin here, he thought to himself. It was weird, and wrong, to see another person in that alley. So he composed himself and got up off the wall, stuffing his numb hands in his pockets.

“My bad.”

Charlie made the excuse and left, shivering through the chilling rain.

Chapter Text

Charlie was melting over the couch another night, getting high on Jessa’s stash yet another night. It gave him something to do when he got home, dulled his mind and resurrected his appetite. He’d dropped Henry at the airport a couple weeks ago and he wasn’t eating, wasn’t sleeping. The weed would help with that too, if he smoked enough of it.

He’d gotten himself an automatic stupid roller online that made his spliffs look like loose, green cigarettes. He missed the blunts she’d roll sometimes, and he missed her tight spliffs. He missed her. Charlie took a deep hit and mindlessly picked his phone from the coffee table. The time read one in the morning and his thoughts switched back to Henry, probably already asleep. He opened his contacts app anyway, uselessly scrolling to Nicole. Then immediately, compulsively scrolling back to J. Johansson.

Tapped once.

He remembered typing that out in his studio one evening, adding her to his contacts from the scribbled note she’d pressed into his hand, before he even knew her name. He’d thought about changing it some time, to something less cold, but he never got around to it. His thumb hovered over each available action. Call? Not really an option for him. Send message? Also not. Block caller, Delete contact… Deleting seemed like the best way to go, all things considered. He could delete her. He’d shoved that little paper inside some notebook, he was sure of it, he could delete her. In the end he went for doing nothing and zoning out at the screen instead.

The rest of his waking hours he poured himself into his work, his career. The only good thing he still had going, and desperately needed for his sanity. He hustled through the month trying not to think too much about Christmas, an almost impossible feat considering the hellish holiday vibes that had started to permeate everything in the city.

The play opened on December 28th for critics and a small audience, and a couple days later for the general public. He’d spent the last days making sure everything would be perfect, trying his hardest to make it all a success.

And despite his best efforts, at the end of the day, he still felt like a piece of fucking trash.

Charlie was generally regarded as a gentle person, and he guessed he was, most of the time he was. But there was a sea of intensity lurking beneath that cool front, a temper too hot and too volatile to predict when it got unleashed. He’d always been like that, ever since he was a child, throwing epic tantrums and having big emotional responses to trauma. More often than not, those breakdowns ignited his rage and fueled his deepest, darkest insecurities.

Who was he kidding? He was never going to have a normal, civil breakup with her. Not without getting all possessive and disgusting and up in her business. Not without having his heart spill out in furious love confessions. He was a sick fuck. An unlovable piece of shit.

💔🎄💔

Opening night went down without a hitch. Standing ovation and a long cocktail party that followed in the lobby. He wore a new, impeccably tailored tuxedo and mingled with the people there between sips of sparkling wine for what felt like hours. He already knew Jessa wouldn’t show. Why would she?

He was dragged to a seedy indie club later by his peers, in fucking Brooklyn of all places, that was blasting The Vaccines’ Wreckin’ Bar as they entered. They were the only group there dressed so smartly, and splurged by ordering a few more celebratory bottles of iced champagne. Time passed between toasts and cheers and laughs, and eventually, the club’s atmosphere changed to something darker, with way more flashing lights, way more pulsing music. An inebriated girl with a pink Birthday Bitch trucker cap jumped to dance in front of the DJ, and Charlie needed some fresh air and a smoke. Hell, maybe he’d light up that cigar he’d been gifted earlier by some schmuck. He was buzzed and flying high, more distracted than he’d been that entire month. He was glad to be there, bathing in success instead of sulking in his empty home, if only just for a night.

He set his empty glass down on its coaster and waded through the crowd, denser between the bar and the exit. The sea of heads parted as he advanced, eyes trained on the door. All heads moved except for one, a blonde head, and what he saw, who he saw when he looked down made his heart skip several beats.

Jessa gaped at him, then frowned, and he thought she said something like hey, or hi, something friendly enough like that, the music was too loud to fucking hear. Soon they were screaming, screaming out loud not to get too close to each other.

She pointed at the chick losing her shit on stage. “…best friend’s birthday!”

“…Figures!”

“The fuck does that mean, you brutish Sasquatch?! What are you so dressed up for, anyway?!”

She eyed him, a bit rattled, but most importantly she was actually talking to him, and not—spitting in his eyes, or something like that.

“Play opened tonight!”

“Right! … I had plans, so—!”

He put his palms up, sweaty, he felt so hot and sweaty all of a sudden. “Please. No need to—”

Some stupid, dipshit looking bros that thought they were in a mosh pit shoved Jessa in the back, making her stagger forward and interrupting their awkward exchange.

“WATCH IT!” Charlie immediately roared as Jessa’s drink spilled down the front of her dress, soaking it. He sent a murderous glare behind her, trying to grab the fucker that was already bouncing off to somewhere else without the barest hint of an apology. The crowd was too thick to get to him. “Fucking jerk!”, he hissed through his teeth, reflexively planting two soft palms high on Jessa’s arms, losing the scowl just to look back at her. “Hey, you alright?”. 

Jessa seemed frozen on the spot, staring down at the dripping glass in her hand. “My…” She kept looking, wrist shaking, voice shaking, “My drink, there’s—”

She tipped the glass sideways, and only then was Charlie able to see not one or two but three little, half dissolved pills sunken at the bottom.

He caught the terrified look on her face as she dropped the glass like it burnt her. It shattered to shards between their feet, and she chose that particular moment to slip through the people like water through cracks.

“Fucksake!” Charlie struggled to chase her across the crowd, making it all the way back to the heart of the club where the restrooms were, passing by the bar again. He smacked his hand down on the counter hard, as hard as he’d wanted to clock that dickhead in the jaw, “Broken glass on the dancefloor!”, he pointed, almost lurching, “Motherfuckers spiking drinks back there!”. He felt sick to his stomach, his heart kicking wildly against his ribs when he finally got to the stalls, stopped in front of the one he’d seen her disappear into, knocked tightly on the door.

“Jessa?! Open up!”

Harrowing, retching sounds started and stopped, started and stopped on the other side. Charlie’s sweat ran cold.

“Jessa, you okay?! Please, let me help,” He implored.

“Go away!”, she coughed.

“No—I’m not going anywhere! I’m here, talk to me.”

She did not respond, and it was quiet, way too quiet for a beat too long.

“Please, talk to me, keep talking, please—Jess…?!” He started to panic, started spiraling, jostling the doorknob in his too tight grip. “Fuck! See what happens to this door if I don’t hear you in the next five seconds!”

But then the latch clicked and his too large body burst into the tiny bathroom, meeting Jessa’s glassy stare in the mirror.

“Jeez, you’re impossible! I threw it up, I’ll be fine.” She said, turning on the tap to rinse off.

“A-Are you sure? How can you be sure? We should call—We should—at least get you to the ER, just to make sure.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?! I don’t think that’s needed, Charlie, thanks, but I can take it from here!”

“That was a shit load of pills, Jessa!” He yelled, his spine, his neck, his arms aching from the strain of it all.

She froze, and his blood froze too. He desperately needed something, anything to ground him, and not being able to touch her was quite literally driving him through the walls. But fuck him if he wanted to be yelling at her like that… He had to get it together, no matter how nauseous he felt, how hard his fingers shook inside his fists.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—That shit was scary, I got nervous.”

“Yes, it was. I got nervous, too… I really just wanna get out of here.”

Charlie gulped and nodded; that sounded like a good plan.

“Warn my friends and get out.” She added.

It was automatic, the way he trailed behind her back into the club, his hypochondriac mind half expecting her to drop dead at any second.

“This snob ass dick drugged you?!” The birthday girl’s high pitched voice jolted him back to the present. She looked ready to tear him to pieces.

“No—Not him, no.” Jessa shot him a killer glance, mostly annoyed at his looming presence. That never even crossed her mind, even if she hadn’t been close to anyone, hadn’t talked to anyone but Charlie since she got that last drink. He was being a big pestering oaf, but he was the last person she’d ever suspect. “I don’t even know what he’s still doing here. I’m leaving!”

“You’re okay, though, Jessie?”

“Yea m’fine, just be careful, Hannah.”

“I will! But don’t go! I love this song!” Hannah took her hand and tried to drag her back to the party.

“Hannah, I really can’t,” Jessa huffed, and Charlie grabbed her other wrist out of impulse, not wanting to get her out of his sight. The thought of some fucking creep, some fucking predator watching them that very moment made his skin crawl, his stomach churn with unease. Hannah arched a brow at the gesture, and Jessa annoyedly tugged herself free on both ends.

“Oy—!” Hannah eyed Charlie up and down, appreciatively and a little lasciviously now too. “I see…” She grinned and hugged her friend sloppily around the shoulders. “Have fun!” She yelled over the music, “And remember; always use condoms!”

“Yea, happy birthday,” Charlie muttered under his breath as they left her there, bathing in glitter and sweat to make their way to the coat check.

Once outside, the immediate silence of the industrial area was deafening. They looked guardedly at each other, standing a good few feet apart. He took in her smudged mascara, the soaked, messed up fabric of her dress, her insufficient leather jacket. The shaken look upon her face.

“I still think someone should check on you…”

Jessa pointedly ignored that and started walking away.

“Where the fuck—Where are you going?” Charlie huffed.

“You can stop following me now, I told you, I’m going home!”

Fuck, no no no. He needed to think, fast.

“Your uh… cousin…! Your cousin is home, right?”

Jessa snorted.

“She’s actually back in Japan. I’m house sitting.”

Back in Japan. Of course. Where the hell else would she be!

“Fuck—uh—right, uh,” He was talking all over himself, and he hated how desperate he sounded. “I could call us a car t-to mine, you know, there’s a spare bed, you could—”

At that, Jessa finally turned to him. “Are you mental?! Is that what you are?!”

“No, but you shouldn’t be left alone! Not after that!”

“And I’m not going! To your fucking! Apartment!”

There they were, shouting again. Shouting like they were back at the club, back at the alleyway all those weeks ago.

“I’m not leaving you alone tonight.” Charlie repeated more calmly.

“Fine.” She said with infinite chagrin, hand worrying at her temple. “…I’m too tired for this shit.”

He stepped into her with renewed worry, but she snapped backwards, almost as if afraid he’d grab her. It stung like a knife to the side, but he understood.

“I’m fine. I said it’s fine.” Jessa stressed.

“Fine if I… stay with you, then…?” He tried, carefully.

“Whatever.”

“Okay—Okay, good.” He shuddered out a breath, some of the tension releasing from his shoulders. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled.”

Charlie felt guilty, like the bad fucking guy. Like he was coercing her into his wishes when all he really wanted was for her to be safe, to wrap her in his arms and hold her, take care of her like she deserved. But he couldn’t, she didn’t trust him like that anymore. So he wordlessly fell into step beside her, walked for a few blocks in silence, made it the entire sixth floor walk-up in silence.

Jessa had a hard time matching the key to the lock, and he wasn’t sure why. How much had she drunk before? How many of the drugs had made it into her system? He cleared his throat, almost choked on his own spit.

“How are you feeling?”

“Jus’tired—”

Her knees buckled slightly and Charlie came up behind her to steady her, steady her hand, guiding it back to the keyhole. He was so painfully gentle, urging her to turn it and ushering her in, then instantly springing into action.

“Okay, where’s your room?” He asked before he could notice how small and packed the place really was. It was quaint if nothing else, overflowing with quirky, colorful furniture and decoration.

Jessa waved towards the big bed posted against one of the walls. “I’m sleeping in Shosh’s bed.”

It was a fucking studio apartment, he didn’t see no other bed, where the hell had she been crashing before? Where was he going to crash? The bed was not as big as his, but he woulda fit, he woulda fit if he removed the fuckton of pillows and stuffed animals on the top half. Not that he was going to get any sort of fucking sleep tonight, not with how paranoid and on edge he was feeling.

Jessa dropped on the comforter, kicked off her heels. “There’s a sofa-bed…”

“I’m staying up, don’t worry ‘bout me, you go to sleep, okay?”, Charlie hushed her, trying his damnedest to sound calm.

She drank from a nearby water bottle, slid into the blankets and chucked the slinky dress over her head, getting comfortable. Then, for a long moment, she just stared at him.

“Don’t think I can fall asleep like that.”

“Like how?” Charlie frowned, confused.

“Like you standing there.”

She seemed fine, normal, and he felt a moderate wave of relief. He could have a quick smoke, keep an eye on her from the fire escape.

He anticipated a long night.

🌟 🌝 🌟

“Charlie—”

His eyes snapped open, and fuck, he’d fallen asleep, hadn’t he, one second he was staring at the calm, even rise and fall of her shoulders, telling himself he’d just sit there a while, lie there a while. And the next…

His neck almost seized from how fast he jackknifed, but Jessa hadn’t moved, she slept still, calling his name in her dreams.

Charlie scooted closer, laying a tentative hand by her elbow. “Here.” He whispered quietly, soothingly, heart lodged in his throat.

Jessa curled up sleepily, nestling herself in the crook of his chest. His breath hitched, but his heart really started pumping when she grabbed his hand and pulled it around herself, bringing his nose right against her neck. Charlie breathed in her familiar scent and gradually relaxed into the embrace, squeezing her hand back.

“I’m here.” He spoke into her shoulder, resting his temple there. “I’ve got you.”

He then let the contact of his body strengthen the message, let their hearts and their breaths entwine. Like that, he found he could actually, truly rest.

Chapter Text

Waking up that morning was a new sort of high for him. Jessa in his arms, her bed bathed in a surprisingly warm light, the dawning orange sun somehow perfectly slanted to reach her windows at precisely that time. No clouds at all meant it was gonna be a cold day, though he felt toasty and almost too warm, still dressed in his stiff white shirt, the freaking bowtie, the pants and the shoes on his feet, that didn’t fit anywhere near the bed.

Charlie took in the way they were lying together, his arm still around her waist, practically spooning. He was intoxicated with the feeling as he felt her stir and immediately went to give her space, but she trapped him by the hand, wrapping her fingers around his. Then she just started squeezing, kneading his hand in hers like she used to.

She did that for a while as Charlie relaxed again, and started becoming aware of the soft press of her body against his, of her inviting warmth, and of his fucking… untimely, unhelpful… morning glory. Mortified, he tried to cant his hips away until she spoke.

“You stayed.”

“Had no other choice, doll.” Charlie grumbled, voice gravelly from sleep and misplaced lust. “Didn’t want ya passin’ out or nothin’.”

“Pft. I’m not a doll that’s gonna pass out.”

He did that. Used to. Call her different names in hopes to find the ones she’d tolerate better. She liked babe, and baby girl. Kitten, if the mood was right. Sometimes he’d slip honey or sweetheart, and she wouldn’t give him too much grief about it. Jessa had all manner of names for him too, from the sarcastic Boss to the more realistic variations of dummy, dumb, dumbo, dumbass. Old man. Big Boy. Asshat. Charlie liked them all.

He couldn’t help but brush the hair from her neck, nuzzle a bit there to murmur in her ear. “That shit last night… What a god damn nightmare that fucking was.” He pressed into her skin and sighed, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For everything.” He said resignedly. He wished she understood just how much, just how sorry he was.

Jessa took a moment to let that sink in, then swiftly changed topics.

“Since you’re here. Will you be a darling and make me breakfast?” She wiggled a bit and Charlie scoffed, not believing his luck. Not believing that she was okay, that she was in a good mood and tolerating his presence. Asking for more of it, even.

“Do you have anything at all in that fridge of yours? Eggs? Milk? Hm?”

He brushed his lips against the back of her neck. Softly, tentatively, powerless to stop it.

Jessa just giggled, half-heartedly shying away. “Yeah, I do.”

Charlie smiled and felt an unusually smooth ridge of skin across his lips that made him back off.

“What… What’s this?”

His fingers traced the pale, almost silver gash that continued under the duvet cover. There he discovered more, a few more scars in her upper back, between her shoulder blades.

A beat of silence, and then;

“What happened?”

Another beat and—

“My crackhead ex threw me on a dump.”

She’d said it so casually, as if it wasn’t the most terrifying statement Charlie had ever heard in his life. His whole body went rigid.

“I’d overdosed. He didn’t see the broken bottles.”

Every word that left her mouth just made it worse, and he didn’t know how to react, how to even keep functioning after that. So many emotions, so many questions bubbled up inside his chest, choking him on his throat.

“What—wh—” He sucked in a shaky gasp, carefully verbalizing his most immediate concern. “Where is that ex now?”

“Well,” Jessa started in an almost animated tone. “He really died from drugs not too long after that. Choked on his own vomit, the works.”

An icy chill coursed through Charlie, followed by a sick thrill of satisfaction. His fingers traced the old cuts over and over again, as if he could erase them with a soft touch.

“How could he? How could he do that to you?”

Jessa licked her lips, shaking her head against the whirlwind of memories.

“He was a scumbag, for sure… We were both fucked up people, addicts. Bad news for each other. Like—Sid and Nancy. Pete and Kate. Amy and… You know, that fucking guy.”

“…Shit, Jess… How long ago?” His voice had gone soft, so incredibly soft for her.

“Uhm… eight years? Same time I’ve been sober from hard drugs. Dunno if last night fucked that up, though.”

“Jesus—”

She was so strong he thought, so fucking strong and didn’t even know it. Without realizing it, his lips had settled back on her skin, where his fingers were still touching her, and started kissing down her scars. He’d never seen them before, how come? They were faint but so clear now in the sharp winter light. He’d never seen her bare in the sun… and it was glorious. Almost as glorious as her finally opening up to him, sharing such personal, traumatic details of her past without a fuss. It seemed to come easier to her without looking him in the eyes, and Charlie was okay with it, he was, if it meant he got to know and understand her better in return.

He pressed his clothed chest to her back, the front of his thighs to hers, almost to her bum.

“Jeez, you’re a furnace—get off!” Jessa tried to roll away, getting tangled in the sheets.

“I didn’t hear you complaining all night…” Charlie needled playfully.

“Come on, I’m hungry. Weren’t you here to look after me?”

He grumbled some more and pulled the loosened silk of his bow tie away, unbuttoning the very top of his collar and the cuffs on his sleeves as he sat up on the bed.

“But you’re fine now, officially out of the woods. I could go.”

“Oh, please…” Jessa rebuffed.

He couldn’t stop a small chuckle, quickly turning away.

“Can’t refuse when you ask so nicely, I guess.”

With that, Charlie got to work, heating a clean pan on the kitchenette as he searched for the eggs, then brewing some coffee, finding some toaster bagels and throwing together the fullest possible breakfast.

Jessa didn’t have work that morning and Charlie and the troupe were taking a well deserved break for the day. So they munched on the scrambled eggs together, squeezed way too close on the tiny breakfast bar.

“Isn’t this nice?” He poked. “Could’ve been cooking you breakfast the entire time.”

“Bullshit.”

Charlie’s laugh rolled lazily, carrying a heaviness from his chest. Their knees knocked softly beneath the bar top.

“We could’ve done it, once or twice.” He insisted. “I would have done it… I would have done anything.”

He kicked himself at his unintentionally wistful, hopelessly reckless statement, and at the awkwardness that followed.

“What did you want, Charlie? A girlfriend? A lover?” She said it as if every idea was laughable, ridiculous.

“No. I—” Charlie frowned at his eggs, pushed them around on the plate, took some air in. Then he put the fork down, no longer hungry.

“I just wanted you. Whatever you wanted with me, I wanted. — Fuck, who knows. I would have taken everything, probably. I know that’s not what you wanted now, and I’m sorry.”

“Doesn’t explain why you were a major fucking prick to me.”

Charlie stood and walked calmly towards the fire escape, finding his tux jacket from where he fished out a pack of smokes.

“…I know.” He paused to open the window, perch himself on the sill and light one up, sucking the nicotine down.

“I’m too hot headed sometimes, anger issues, s’what I’ve got. It’s not an excuse. I was pretty upset from before, that day, and that’s also not an excuse. S’where I was coming from, is all. Angry, riled up and angry at my fucking self. Couldn’t keep my cool… and I ruined everything.”

Jessa rounded the small bar and went to join him by the window.

The sky was a crisp blue, the sun already going behind the tall skyscraper. It was still bright, but cold.

He stole a glance as she took the cigarette from his fingers, a stray sunbeam catching in the molten amber of his eyes. Those soulful, haunting eyes that held hers for a moment, then looked back out into the tall buildings. His profile was so acutely handsome, for some reason it felt unfair.

Charlie could hear the tobacco burning next to him as Jessa took her hit, still mulling things over.

“I can respect that. Besides, I said some real nasty shit to you too.”

He let out a dry, mirthless laugh. “All deserved. Jessa… the things I said… I didn’t mean any of it. I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t, huh?” She asked, prodding for the lie. For one specific little lie in particular.

“I didn’t… I didn’t mean to say—. Look, I regret—”

“You know what, let’s not do this.” She interrupted him, and he took the very generous chance to shut the hell up.

Jessa took his silence as a kind of confirmation, an admittance to something, to that lie she already knew and shouldn’t be bothering her as much as it did. Because she was trying to make up with him, after all. She took a big breath, deflating a little by the end as she remembered that.

The wind blew past them as she smoked some more, starting to shiver in the fuzzy pajamas she had put on for breakfast. Charlie picked his suit jacket up, opening it for her. She went under it without hesitation, a big elegant blanket doused in his luxurious smell. How had they found this thing, this domesticity, this terrifying kind of intimacy, in such a short time? What was it between them? What did he have, that no one else did? That no one even came close?

She’d wanted to break things up. Right? Pushed him to say those things he regretted. Like he loved her. He must have really wanted her to stay… Yet none of it had worked for her. She’d been so fucking mad, and so sure. Why second guess herself now? She didn’t do that, didn’t overthink things. But there he was, looking like the perfect gentleman in her crummy, borrowed space—sticking out so painfully, symbolizing everything she wasn’t. Their divide was never so obvious.

What she said next sounded strange, even to her own ears.

“I’m sorry too, for what it’s worth.”

“Don’t be... I was lucky for every second I got to spend with you.” His crystalline eyes darted over her warily. “I should have known when to let go. I knew our deal, and I—”

“I get it. Shit timing. No hard feelings?”

Jessa didn’t want to hear any more of what he was starting on about. For better or worse, she just wanted to turn the page. Charlie took a couple seconds to digest her offering, before choking out a small,

“No—”

He’d take it. It was an okay deal, way better than her hating him, than her thinking he hated her. Jessa handed him the abused cigarette, full of teeth marks and lipstick. Charlie took it with a slight frown, neither wanting to stay on the subject any longer and purposely leaving some key aspects of their fight unaddressed. He hadn’t meant any of it after all, right?

The cigarette got crushed in the ashtray, marking the beginning of a precarious new start.

❤️🩹 ❤️🩹 ❤️🩹

“Hey, would you uh… would you like to come to the public premiere tomorrow? I could save you a ticket, there will be a small after party, a more casual one than—” Charlie gestured at his particularly over the top ensemble, already at her front door, about to go home. “I mean—What I mean to say is; You’re welcome to stick around for that too. Or not, your choice.” He muttered. “And to bring anyone you like.” He muttered again.

“You’re kind of a big deal, aren’t you?”

“What?” His eyebrows shot up, dark eyes locking on hers, and her gut gave a ridiculous twist.

“I’ve seen the billboards, Charlie—none of that off-broadway bullshit crap, you’re not fucking around.”

“Guess not…” He didn’t know what to say, how to react to that besides blushing up to his ears and shaking his head, soft eyelashes fluttering darkly. “You should go and see for yourself. Tell me how overrated it all is.” He frowned at a specific spot on the floor, hair trickling over his eyes. “We like to glorify the arts, certain arts above the others, but it’s just… a mechanism. A thing people do not to go insane.”

He stood impossibly taller as he pushed his hair back with huge fingers. She wanted to bunch it up in her hands and pull. See what happened. She wanted to hear him groan, almost could in her head. Fuck, she wanted him badly. She’d never stopped.

Charlie worried his lip, red and shiny as he waited for some sort of comeback.

If she kissed him now, what would that mean? His heavy eyes finally returned to hers and she knew she needed to say something, anything.

“…I’ll think about it.”

His little speech alone could have made her accept, but she’d already made up her mind. She wanted to see the play. She found herself endlessly, inevitably attracted to all things Charlie. How could she ever have found him dull, boring, ordinary…?

Charlie stood in her tiny foyer like a deer in the headlights, like an elephant in a china shop.

“Yes—great, yes.” He blurted out, fumbling for the doorknob behind his back.

“…Thank you.”

The sound of her thanking him was new, too. Strange. Odd. Nice.

Chapter Text

That Jessa Johansson was an absolute mess was hardly any news. She was just even more of a mess now, over Charlie Barber and his play and the entire fucking deal. His casual invitation to “stick around”. For what, to be seen together? To put him in a difficult spot and to embarrass him? What was he thinking?

She wanted to see the stupid play now. He’d invited her and she was going. He should have thought twice about it. God, he was frustrating. 

Jessa got out of the shower, twisted her hair into a towel and threw the flimsy doors of her Ikea wardrobe open. The tremor in the base of her stomach was going to make her sick, any second now. Despising Charlie was much easier, it always had been, but he managed to make it so damn difficult.

Last night still felt like a hallucination. Hannah’s birthday. The pills. Charlie in her bed. It had all really happened, and she’d really babbled all of her secrets to him in the morning. She’d told him everything just because he’d asked, and because it wasn’t like it mattered anymore, his opinion of her. 

But then he’d just kissed her scars… and made them breakfast.

To make matters even worse, she couldn’t stop thinking of the way he’d looked that day, back at the cafe. Of the fact he’d come straight to her when he was at his lowest, and the way she’d pushed him away… And of how he’d refused to leave her when she’d needed someone in turn, after finding the drugs in her drink, after puking her guts out… He’d been there for her, spent the whole night next to her.

Jessa had to dig deep to find an outfit that resembled what a distinguished woman going to the theater would wear; she settled for a lacy, skin tight crop top with long sleeves she really liked, paired with a high waisted satin skirt she’d worn to a wedding once, and ballerinas. Whatever. It shouldn’t look too out of place, and hopefully nothing to make him sweat.

The theater and its surroundings were packed, and she basically went straight for the seats after snatching her free ticket. She saw no signs of Charlie when she had to queue for a bit. Better that way.

🎭  🎭  🎭

Jessa exited into the lobby some two hours later, so shell-shocked she nearly missed the enormous hand coming at her from behind the red velvet rope. Charlie smiled as he got a hold of her fingers, tugging her arm up as he unclipped a section of the rope to let her in. 

Once inside, he paused to give her a long, roaming look of appraisal. 

“You look…” Charlie trailed off, cut himself short. 

“This color, it suits you.” He started again as he found his voice. “What’s it called?” 

“Rose gold.” Jessa rolled her eyes a bit, lifted her brows. Sucked in a lungful of air— “ What the fuck!” She whisper-hissed at him. 

“What?” His eyes crinkled at the corners, long dimples starting to form as he looked and looked and looked .

“That was—it was brilliant! Shit, I clapped so hard, my palms are burning. ”

“I saw.”

“You saw? Where were you?”

“Director’s seat.” 

He winked at her, and fuck, how pathetically she reacted to that on the inside.

“Oh yeah? And where would that be?” 

She had looked too, and found no trace of him.

“…Director’s secret." Charlie rumbled and smirked playfully, enjoying himself a little too much.

Their fingers still touched, still twirled together mostly unconsciously, and Jessa couldn’t help but be aware of it. Of how it might look for him. Charlie seemed to be somewhere else, over the moon in his charcoal slacks and burgundy polo shirt, good old cardigan stretched tight across his biceps.

“Director’s a creep." Jessa grinned back at him. She liked giving him shit, but he just laughed and smiled wider.

“Thank you for coming… and feeding my terrible ego.”

“Don’t be stupid, I’m glad I did.” “I mean it, Charlie.”

Charlie nodded, throat bobbing. His increasingly anxious gaze found hers and time seemed to stretch for a long moment.

“Would you stay for a drink?” He finally sputtered.

That elicited a small, soft chuckle from her lips. “Would I?” 

He shrugged, like it was no big deal at all. “Yeah… and meet the crew?” His brows perked up, hopeful. 

“If you’d like…” One more little shrug of her shoulders.

“Yeah, I’d—I think I’d like that. Very much.”

Jessa dipped her head, breaking away from his enraptured gaze to stare at the polished floor, hiding her half-smile—then slowly, delicately tore her fingers from his, taking her hand away. 

Charlie’s eyes dropped too, and he held himself very still, worrying his lip until she bumped against his side and said, “C’mon.”

He huffed a heavy breath, shy dimples returning to his face with full force as he stuck out his arm to let her lead the way. 

The closed off area of the lobby wound around a side of the building where the counter had been repurposed into a makeshift bar, a self service type of deal where the whole surface had been lined with countless kinds of drinks and bottles, champagne flutes and lush trays of posh snacks. Casual. She knew these people’s casual, she’d been ready for it, and still—she felt stupidly overdressed. There was not a single pressed suit or cocktail dress in sight, so… yeah. She had become an embarrassing element in record time, even for her.

The little party was already bustling, staff, technicians and actors she recognized from the play alike talking animatedly, like they all knew each other. Like they were all friends. The vibe really was relaxed and she felt like an outsider crashing their little bubble. 

Then, a warm palm hovering the small of her back. A familiar, low whisper in her ear: “This okay?”

Yeah. It was. 

Charlie smelled of fresh laundry and spice. She smelled of cigarettes and cheap cologne, as they approached the bar for something to drink. She actually just wanted a Dr.Pepper, but doubted there would be any such luck. 

People started to swarm them way before she could even find out, hanging around and patiently waiting for their turn to shake Charlie’s hand and slap his shoulder hard, like he’s hot fucking stuff. He introduced her by her name and nothing else, as people inevitably began to notice her.

“Jessa is my +1.” 

“Charlie and I are friends.”

“She’s with me.”

Those and other bogus answers were given to everyone’s prying questions and shit-eating grins. They all had some triviality they had to share, some stale anecdote to bring up before they eventually scampered off.

Charlie’s hand didn’t leave her back the entire time.

People’s stares and funny little looks said it all, but she also saw how quickly Charlie dismissed everyone, how politely and elegantly he dodged every awkward bullet.

“Company move!” Another big slap on his back.

“Frank! We’re leaving already?” A startled Charlie asked the man, an older actor with balding white hair they’d greeted earlier. He was throwing on his coat, and everyone was on the move.

“Yes we are,” Frank didn’t miss a beat, immediately turning to Jessa. “And so are you!—Didn’t think we were gonna let you off the hook that easy, huh?” The man smirked as he kept yammering on for a growingly giggly audience.

“Nu-huh, Boss’ best kept secret, am I right? Knew he’d been up to something, up to no good! Never seen him distracted like that, never in all my years…! Said he wasn’t sleeping well, can you believe that? The bastard…”

“Shut that big ol’ trap, will ya Frank?” Charlie’s gruff baritone rose above the chatter, their good natured banter earning a few more chuckles.

“That karaoke ain’t gonna sing itself.” Was all Frank offered in return, ushering them towards the exit. 

“Jesus, okay fine—” Clearly overwhelmed, Charlie threw Jessa an apologetic look, leaning down to murmur in her ear. 

“I work with a bunch of nutjobs, don’t even listen to them.”

🥂 🥂 🥂

It was a short walk to a piano bar downtown, where the group seemed to have their very own booth. Charlie was drinking Bourbon tonight, and taking the rather incessant teasing in stride.

Jessa’s jaw hurt from laughing, though she also felt kind of bad for the big ol’ boss, who could apparently “sing like an angel, believe it or not.”

Charlie profusely and repeatedly refused to demonstrate on the small stage as the piano player started another soft tune, shouting out for the last performer of the night. 

“Booo… Party pooper!! So Terry, if he can sing, he must also know how to dance, right?” 

Charlie let out a disdainful scoff, squaring his elbows on the table but smirking  down at his drink.

Jessa couldn’t resist joining in on the roast sometimes, but she knew he knew she was saving him when she stood, pulling at the straps of the black leather jacket he’d been wearing since they left the theater. It made him look even more like a snack, even more of a delicious, four-course meal. Charlie stood wordlessly after her, obnoxiously tall, slamming his tumbler down as Jessa polished the rest of her Corona.

“Come on, Charlie!” Everyone hooted, basically kicking him out of the booth and not shutting up until they finally stood under the mirror ball.

“We don’t have to actually dance, you know.” Jessa grinned, trying to make up for her stunt.

“That’s very thoughtful, thanks. Now they’re all looking at us.”

She threw her arms around his massive shoulders. “I like them, such an artsy band of misfits.”

“They’re great, like family, you know? And they’re… They’re happy for me. All because they think—” Charlie’s fingertips grazed her hips, overwhelmed by her closeness. “Well. You know what they think.”

“That we’re shagging—yeah. I thought we didn’t want them to think that… ”

Charlie sniffed, chuckled a bit. “I don’t care anymore, never cared, to be honest. Keeping it from Henry, sure. That made sense.” He eventually held her waist and started to sway to the music. “But then you didn’t want anyone in the cafe to know, so I kind of just… assumed.”

“Yeah, I didn’t give a shit.” Jessa peered up at him through her lashes. “It was to avoid making you uncomfortable, mostly.”

“Me? Uncomfortable? You gotta be trippin’, Jess—angel—You’re so cool. You’re so funny and smart. Sometimes I feel like I can’t fucking breathe when I’m near you, but—”

“We don’t fit, Charlie. I get it. We’re too different.”

“No; let me finish.” He made a point to find her eyes. “I was never uncomfortable. I wasn’t ashamed—I’m not. I would have shouted about us to anyone who’d listen. You know that, babe, right? You know that?”

“I dunno, Charlie. — I know it now…” Jessa’s fingers twined in the soft hairs at the nape of his neck. “Seems like we’ve been operating exclusively on assumptions, you and I.”

Charlie’s hands tightened at her sides and finally moved around her back, pulling her into a full, soft embrace. He could hear the distant wolf whistles as the world dizzyingly shut out around them; his eyes slid closed and there was only the scent of her hair, of her skin so close to his. Too much and not enough.

“I feel so fucking dumb, Jess. Guess I’ll just have this one more regret, when it comes to you—That I made you feel that way…” His arms relaxed just a bit, allowing her cheek to disconnect from his chest to look up at him again. “I’m so much more embarrassing than you are, by the way.” He added as a sudden afterthought. “A divorced fuckup, a single fucking dad. I was paying you, for fuck’s sake, think of the power imbalance.” 

Jessa’s brows knit together, but she didn’t back off or raise her voice, just continued in the same hushed, quietly urgent tone.

“Are you shitting me? The money was never for that, gimme some fucking credit… You think I would have consented if even for just a second, I’d sensed anything fishy about you? No, that’s not what I felt. That’s not what I felt at all, but we had boundaries… Boundaries that worked. Boundaries that we respected, until we didn’t.” She looked jaded, far away for a second. “I spent so much time fooling myself, thinking I could do it, I really fucking tried. Turns out that I can’t, same way I can’t ever follow rules. I don’t give a shit about fuck, I don’t care what’s right or wrong, and naturally, people hate me for that. I constantly hurt and let everyone down.”

She’d grown so tense, and Charlie trailed a soothing hand up her back, going all the way to cradle her nape just so. He hung his head, soft amber eyes catching hers. The ballad lilted on and he was whispering again— 

“But Jessa, that’s precisely—that’s what I admire about you the most. You’re a free spirit. You look life in the eye and take what you want.” She tried not to squirm as she returned his intense gaze. “You’re stubborn, unapologetic, too damn honest for your own good.” Charlie hissed the words pressingly, “There’s an edge to you, sure, we all have sharp edges. And I—I love yours. I love the way you talk with your mouth full and sneak coffees for the homeless. I love it when you smile and swear and call me a tosser. I love your punk ass tattoos, god, I love them. You’re mind-bendingly beautiful. You’re a mirage in the desert. What’s someone like you doing with a washout theater guy like me? What have I got, a big apartment?”, he scoffed, “an obsession with you?” 

Charlie was hitting a nerve of his own, feeling increasingly worthless by the second.

“Was it my crumbling mental health, or the fact that I felt so entitled as to impose my company on you, follow you home and get in your bed, all because I couldn’t fucking help myself?—And staying, knowing full well you hate the idea of sleeping next to me.”

“Gosh, Charlie, you’re so incredibly hard on yourself, aren’t you?” Jessa’s hands came up to rest against his chest. “For the sake of coming clean and ending your deluded hallucinations; I am glad for your insistence the other night. I wasn’t fine; I was paranoid, I wasn’t gonna be fine.” She paused, deliberating for just a second. “… And I didn’t hate it.”

Charlie blinked down at her a couple times, breathing out as if the fight left him all at once. “I feel… strangely vindicated.”

“You made me feel safe.” She confessed quietly. “That’s not something I get to feel very often.”

Charlie’s hand moved to her cheek, the wide pads of his fingers tucking a wisp of hair back. His hooded obsidian eyes tracked the movement, dipping to her mouth for a moment before returning to her darkened blues. They spoke to her so loudly, telling her that she deserved to feel safe. That she deserved the world. But the song was ending, and the stage lights were slowly cranking up. 

It was the sudden roar of clapping that made Charlie’s back straighten and uncurl from her, and Jessa’s heels lower back down to the floor. The claps were of course for the pianist, not them, he had to lamely remind himself.

“I uh—” Charlie gasped throatily, like he’d just been on the verge of something big. “I…”

“We don’t have to go back yet.”, she reassured him.

The lights were dimming yet again, leaving the entire job of illumination to the few scattered lamps and multicolored strings of Christmas lights, as some grainy new tunes started to play from the jukebox.

“—kay” Charlie managed with a shaky sigh.

“Let’s get some more Bourbon in you, darling.” Jessa patted the worn black lapels on his chest, steering him towards the bar by the elbow. 

🍸  🍸  🍸

Jessa started to dance to the soul classics as soon as they’d ordered, and sent a sabotaging round of Jägermeister shots to their table. 

She just started to dance like that front of him, and holy fuck. He loved her moves. He loved the way she used her whole body, the way she grabbed her hair and tossed it around, messy. Chaotic. He loved to see her trail her hands along the dips and swells of her body, and the waves her chest made as she bit her lip, looking straight at him. Fuck, he loved her. He loved her. She was still the sun, and he flailed towards her like a helpless moth.

Charlie stole a furtive glance in the direction of their peers, who were actually far enough now not to discern what was clearly going on. 

“Enjoy throwing gas at the dumpster fire that is our booth right now?”

Jessa approached him, his elbow perched on the dark mahogany wood of the bartop as he took an absent minded gulp of his liquor. Then he abandoned the drink for good when she practically stepped into him, her dance turning into a private little show just for him.

“Tryn’a woo you, you fool. Seeing if I can get you to kiss me in front of everyone.”

Charlie licked the alcohol from his lips, breath coming in soft pants. His heart hammered hard against his chest and his voice came out a few octaves lower. 

“Nothing would feel better than to prove them right, believe me.” He stalled weakly, letting her wind her arms around his neck. “And…”

He was buzzed and she was so close, he could barely think straight. Couldn’t tell if she was playin’, but could she…? Could she want him, as much as he wanted her? Maybe, just maybe, she wanted this too, he thought wildly.

“I’d really like to kiss you, too.” He finished, laying all his cards on the table, baring his desire out to her.

“It’s a no-brainer, then.” She purred.

“Mhm, no-brainer.” Charlie muttered, their lips only a breath away. 

Jessa was the one to close the distance, but his lips met hers first. Soft and plump, tasting faintly of Bourbon, just like that fateful first night together. The kiss was pent up, long and savoring, and it ripped an astonished “Fuck—” from his lips. Charlie’s size and brute power lifted her easily to the closest stool, landing her on the seat to press his needy body to hers, close, yet so far.

“They must be all watching, now.” Jessa lasciviously pointed out. “Kiss me again.”

Charlie’ breath trembled, a very specific brand of despair in his voice. “I—I don’t want to fuck this up, Jess.” He told her. “Are you—is this really what you want?”

“Charlie, it’s just us now.” Jessa tipped her head to the side, gently nipping at his lower lip, drawing it between her teeth. He groaned a little, feeling himself harden even more against his pants. “No weird power games, we’re both adults. I’m pushing thirty, if I may remind you.” 

Charlie nodded as if in trance as she continued on, 

“I’m exactly where I want to be and I think you are, too. You can’t fuck up, I won’t let you.” 

Her tongue darted out to lick the bow of his upper lip, and the stool scraped against the wooden floor from the sheer force of him coming onto her.

That was them. Five short minutes of being alone and already unraveled, already hopelessly all over each other. His soft tongue slipping in and out of her mouth as his thumbs stroked the exposed skin along her midriff, fingers spanning her entire waist in their grip.

“They’re definitely looking now.” Charlie croaked, holding her jaw to kiss her deeper, a rush of arousal racking through his core. 

It was as if they were trying to eat each other, the way their bodies crashed, mouths meeting over and over in a lust addled delirium. 

“That’s right—Show them who’s been fucking the nanny,” Jessa managed on her next breath.

“Christ, I love your mouth, I do, but Jessa,” Charlie fretted, throat thick with such need. “I never saw you as just a nanny, you need to know that.”

She smiled at his pouty mouth, fingers playing at his cheek. “I know, I know you’re too much of a marshmallow to actually believe any of that shit. You’re just kinky, and that’s alright. That’s… perfect.”

Her rare words of praise were giving him whiplash, and Charlie could only nod dumbly. 

“Glad to have cleared that up.” He stammered before melting his lips to hers once more. He was all heat, all flushed and wanting and so big around her… Such a good kisser… Fuck, he turned her on so much. 

“Keep kissing me like that and see what you do to me.” Jessa’s fingers clawed at his shirt as he took her breath away, and she squirmed against him, ground against him, and—Holy shit—

Could she come just like this?

“Honey, it’s a two way street.” Charlie pressed his iron-like length to the inside of her thigh, breathing labored as he spoke. “Tryin’ real hard not to whisk you away to some corner and fuck the shit outta you right fucking now.”

There it was, that lovely, filthy mouth she adored. They needed to move and they needed to move fast, before they got themselves kicked out for indecent exposure.

“Bathroom. You first.” Jessa commanded hoarsely. “I’ll join you in a minute.”

“Make it half a minute.”

“You’re wasting time. I’m right behind ya, promise—”

Chapter Text

Jessa crashed against Charlie’s solid mass in the piss-poorly illuminated hallway to the restrooms only to wind up engulfed in his arms, a deep, genuine laugh resounding from his chest.

Fuck, his laughter was like crack to her.

She laughed too, intoxicated by their wild, carefree behavior. Or maybe it was just serotonin, she thought as she checked the nearest bathroom and dashed inside with Charlie at her heels. They nearly forgot to bolt the door in their laughter and haste to keep riling each other up, making out like crazed teens.

Jessa’s hand brushed the front of his pants and he backed her against the wall, running his palm up her skirt like the insatiable creature he was, needing to feel her there. When he did, his kisses faltered—

“Look at you—babe, it’s leaking down your thighs.”

The saturated lace of her underwear was swept aside so he could slide his fingers along her sensitive crease, parting her flesh and spreading her arousal up, up, around the tip of her clit, then down again, ever so slightly dipping into her soft, warm center. The pressure he was applying was nothing more than cruel torture, and Jessa was quickly becoming unhinged, mindlessly trying to force his leather clad wrist lower, to get her off harder.

Charlie looked her down, voice husky even as he growled, “Hands on me.”

The second she gave up she was immediately rewarded with two of his thick digits sliding inside, tight but easy, the scalding walls of her cunt welcoming him to the knuckle; Jessa braced herself to his neck with a shallow cry of pleasure, forehead smushed with his, as he just… he just stayed there, infuriatingly still as he ran his mouth against her temple, hand pressing and grinding deliciously upwards.

“Good girl, is that what you wanted? You need to cum so badly, don’t you. Fuck, those pretty panties are ruined. I’ve got you…”

He kept on rambling as the tips of his fingers found her G-spot, thumb swiping at her clit, mouth seeking hers for a filthy wet kiss. He was purposeful, moving against her like he meant it— like tasting and fingering her against the wall was his single life purpose.

The sturdy muscles in his arm flexed in her grip the moment he started thrusting, and holy shit, he could reach so fucking deep. His fingers massaged her slick front wall, teasing at her with every firm pass, curling and coaxing, tirelessly so. He hummed so low and growly she could feel it in her chest, the vibrations sending tingles down her tummy. This bastard lover knew too much and didn’t give up until he had her shaking in his arms, whining and tightening, squeezing around his fingers in what had to be some record-breaking kind of fucking time.

He cursed and nipped at the flesh of her ear, words rasping past his throat. “Come, love. Let me feel the waves.”

Jessa let the overwhelming swell of her pleasure take her under, so immediate and strong it had her convulsing all around him, grabbing at anything and everything, everywhere all at once. She held him close as she came, gasping for air, fisting his shirt so hard some of the buttons popped off.

Charlie chuckled gravelly, the sexy fucking devil, bearing down on her clit even as he slowed his hand, working her until she slumped in his hold, twitching and boneless.

He had some of his other fingers pressed to her lips, Jessa noticed; Like he’d been shushing her. Like she’d been really loud, maybe. Fuck all, her senses were only starting to return to her, and she could only think of sucking on those big fat fingers that he removed from her mouth way too fast.

Charlie rained tender kisses on her flushed face as he unpinned her from the wall, easing the fingers from her pussy, warm and coated in her essence. Jessa felt those same fingers move to her chest and pull her top down, smearing a wet trail between her tits that he instantly bent down to lick, tracing a slow, hot stripe with his tongue.

“So good.

God, I want—”

Charlie stepped into her, shuddering with need—always so needy for her, for a taste of her.

“Want to make love to you so bad.” He breathed against her lips, and she fucking clenched on fucking nothing. His palm squeezed her breast and before she knew it, he was lifting her in the air with just a forearm under her ass. With a pleased moan, she let herself be transported wherever the fuck he wanted.

It was a good thing this bathroom was nothing like the one in that filthy Brooklyn club. Everything, from the height of the sink, to the clean marble top, to the large mirror on the wall… This bathroom was designed to be fucked in, she thought as Charlie lowered her towards the cool surface, but then thought better of it and put her on her feet.

“Hold on,” He moved to shrug out of his jacket and she enthusiastically joined in, pushing the heavy material off his shoulders. The cardigan went with it, leaving him in just the mangled shirt and a skin that was boiling underneath.

Jessa’s hands couldn’t stop touching all the magnificent beef presented before her; so much, so hot, so distracting—she somehow missed the way he flipped the jacket around, spreading it on the counter for her.

The leather felt gooey warm against her thighs as he gently propped her up, running reverent hands under her rosy, flowy skirt, lifting it up as he went, looking at her with those big, wanting eyes. She thanked him for the gesture with a slow, devastating kiss that had them both reeling and breathless by the time they had to come up for air.

Fuck, how she’d missed doing that. How badly she’d missed—

Him, she’d just missed him.

He was right there, finally back between her legs, not an inch of space between their slowly grinding bodies, and he smelled so good, so edible, so absolutely fucking rich—And looked even better. Hair wild, clothes disheveled, pupils blown black for her and just for her—She needed his belt off yesterday.

Charlie hiked her thigh against his side, bunching up the skirt around her waist as his other hand found her tits, this time under the stretchy top. No bra because she already looked amazing in it.

“You’re a terror—Showing up in this tight little thing… Rosé—Gold fucking dress…”

Jessa hummed on a smile, so eager for him to fuck her.

“—perfect lil’ tits—” His deep voice ended on a moan near her ear.

Charlie’s head spun and he wasn’t making any sense, so he stopped talking to better nose at her cleavage, to suck her breasts out, slowly. His hot mouth closed around each of her nipples, soft tongue lapping in circles, making them nice and wet and sloppy for him, for his lips.

The combination of warm hands and eager sucking transferred straight to her pussy, which Charlie immediately started rubbing. This ridiculously big, gorgeous man knew her, and remembered her so well. She felt as if she’d struck gold simply by meeting him.

Her fancy knickers were getting in the way yet again, so Charlie twisted his fist around, casually pulling until the seams ripped, making Jessa gasp into his hair.

“Wrong day to start wearing these, kid.”

They both giggled, breathless and hoarse as he dropped the lacy scraps aside.

He’d literally just made her come, but he kept doing this insanely hot shit and it was legitimately going to fucking end her.

Charlie found her abundantly wet from before and from what he’d just done, tender and still responsive. Her folds felt silky soft against his touch, little nub throbbing steady, center rippling and aching to be filled. The continued, hungry kisses to her chest veered unconsciously towards her stomach—Oh, God, yes—, past her navel—yes—, and,

“No—” Jessa reached down, yanking inelegantly at his belt. “Do what you said, now.”

Charlie huffed out a chuckle, a question gleaming in his dark honey irises. She pulled him closer by the hips, feeling how unwaveringly hard he’d stayed for her as he made another short, huffy noise.

His face flooded with exhilarating understanding, eyes searching hers in a staring spell that lasted only until Jessa heard the clink of his buckle, and then his zipper.

“Fuck, yes…” She widened her legs anticipating his next move, but then his huge paws were flipping her around, shoving her skirt past her ass, doing with her whatever he wanted.

“Fuck, YES!”

The leather jacket under her chest proved to be a surprisingly good non-slip surface as he groped and bent her over, tilting her hips up in a lewd display.

“Christ, this ass. Should be a national treasure.” Charlie murmured as he kneaded her cheeks, spreading and squeezing, taking a good look at her ripe pussy. “I’m gonna eat you out so hard when we have time.”

Such heady promises, but oh, she could already feel him there; long and hard, slipping through her swollen folds from behind. Ready to sink down. One roll of his hips and he’d be sheathed inside her.

Charlie hissed and cradled her throat, fingers under her jaw as he lifted her head slightly.

“Look in the mirror, sweetheart. Look.”

Their eyes locked as his velvety head pressed in, and she couldn’t breathe. All the oxygen abandoned her in one labored, drawn out moan, getting to feel the overwhelming stretch of him once again. Charlie wasn’t faring much better—mouth agape, jaw slack, barely still holding upright.

His huge hand shifted to the juncture of her neck and shoulder, drawing her body against his as he sank himself deeper, pushing to the hilt with a ragged groan. His other hand slid from her hip to her tummy as he finally dropped his head with a sigh, hot lips nipping at her skin. He barely pulled out before rocking back in, grazing at some elusive spots only he’d ever reached. Charlie moaned low as he felt himself so deep in her, bulging right beneath his fingers. Jessa’s breath was only beginning to catch up as her body bucked against his, rutting back in a way he obligingly countered with his hips.

Her little sounds were everything to him. She felt so soft and warm. So perfect, his perfect dream girl. His name fell from her lips with every exhale and he felt like he was gonna float away.

“I missed this,” “fuck, I missed this—” Charlie sounded wrecked, tone utterly destroyed.

“Mm”, Jessa hummed, moaned as he rocked his weight forward, big hands covering hers on the marble top.

He kept fucking into her like he like he couldn’t stop, like he would die if he stopped. He was losing his mind, his control, and all of his inhibitions along the way.

“We don’t fit?” He punctuated with his hips. “We aren’t good for each other?”

A stuttered, pleasure-weak laugh left her throat.

“No, we’re—

we’re fucking hot Charlie, look at us—We’re fire together.”

Charlie’s full body shivered as he eyed the debauched picture they painted in the mirror, him surging behind her in almost desperate thrusts.

She had a way of heating his blood—And she fit him so well, he—

He’d go mad. Jessa’s moans turned helpless, incoherent, and he wanted to taste ‘em from her mouth, kiss them from her lips and swallow them up. He also didn’t want to stop hearing her, ever.

“Like that?” Charlie gave a slow, thorough stroke that turned her knees to jelly.

“Tell me—” He insisted lowly, sounding as affected as she was. “Tell me how I make you feel.”

His thighs pushed against hers from behind and—

“Good, Charlie, it feels—right.”

I see you, I see you now, she wanted to tell him. That she ached for him. That she was his, if he’d have her.

“Tell me what you want,” He grunted, begged, feeling Jessa flutter around him.

“I want you—Only you.” She cried brokenly.

“Fuck, fuuckk—I want you too, baby girl. You know there’s no one else for me—No one—” He ground his hips into hers, sweat pooling at the back of his neck, a dumb fuckin’ smile probably plastered on his dumb fuckin’ face. Was he fucking dreaming? He’d better not be fucking dreaming.

He was gonna come apart hard and fast, he could feel it. His cock was so painfully full and she felt so good, too good to be true, telling him what he’d always longed to hear but never dared to hope. Charlie thanked the stars for his furious jack-offs in the shower, as underwhelming as they were, at least he wasn’t coming from weeks of abstinence.

But he was so… close… 

And she wanted him.

She wanted him.

He staggered above her, panting into her hair as he lost more of his composure, of his grip, in favor of hot, overwhelming bliss. The sounds he was making now were animalistic, broken, ripped straight from his wheezing lungs.

“Are you gonna come for me?” Jessa practically implored.

A deep, snarly growl tumbled out of Charlie, one thick arm bracing around her tits as he doubled his efforts.

“Not ’til you come again.” He ground out.

“Ah—Charlie, you feel so fucking good,” — “So big, so good t’me. Want you to cum in me—”

He gave an even bigger growl, right hand reaching around her mound, fingers pressing in. He rubbed precise, smoldering circles there as his needy cock plundered inside, from sensitive wall to cervix, hot and heavy, grinding deliriously on the upstroke. His mouth latched to one side of her neck, sucking at her pulse to make red bloom under her skin, teeth scraping along just so. He kept that up until she was sobbing, nonsensical, in that thoughtless, weightless space of blinding pleasure. Whining please, Charlie, please.

“I’m gonna cum in you, but not until you give me what’s mine.” Charlie husked in her ear with a sentencing snap of his hips, making her back arch, her body slot even further into his.

Another perfect thrust and the piping hot pressure inside her started to release, gushing from her core as he kept fucking her, spreading though her limbs and liquefying her bones. Jessa’s nails clung to the rim of the sink, to the pleats of his jacket, to anything that could keep her tethered as she broke with a wail, coming the hardest she had in a very long time.

Charlie grunted and growled, crying her name and gripping hard onto her waist, crushing her to him even more. “Shiiit, babe—Just like that… Just like that, gorgeous…—You ready for me?”

He had no idea what he was giving her, what it all meant to her. All she’d ever had to offer was this. Her body; and it felt insignificant in return. But if it was true, if he actually wanted her, wanted the whole, damaged package…

She realized he’d let her know a million times before, in a million different ways… But only then was it starting to sink in. Only then, in the shivering throes of their pleasure, was she realizing that maybe, just maybe, she could heal. That maybe she had already started, just by standing on the other side of his gentle affection.

She wanted to be the same for him. She wanted them to lick each other’s wounds and soothe each other’s souls… If that wasn’t what they’d been doing their entire time together already.

“Oh god, oh fuck,” Charlie’s eyes fluttered as he was overcome with wave after wave of her pleasure, feeling her squeeze madly around his cock. He lifted her hips an inch, throbbing in her tummy with every deep draw in and out, stretching the moment until he finally let go. His whole body jolted forward, shoulders trembling as he began to spill spectacularly inside.

Jessa felt him twitch and moan in his bliss, face buried in the column of her spine, breath hitching against her skin. The never-ending wash of his hot cum had nowhere to go, thick as he was and pulsing as he was between her folds, as they both were.

“S’all for you… just you… just you…” Charlie promised over and over as he pumped her full of him, wiped-out and dizzy from it.

He pretty much always finished inside, but this… It had never felt better. It had never felt hotter, one overwhelming rush of warmth after another, as he made sure to give her until the very last drop.

His massive body heaved and slouched over her back, snuggling her from behind as he fucked into his own cum—deeply, tenderly, trying to keep her stuffed for as long as possible.

Jessa turned to him with a frisky smile when he eventually slipped away, a smile he dopily returned, zipping up his pants as she checked the situation between her legs.

“Shit. Here.” He had the good sense of passing her some paper towels from a dispenser before running his weakened fingers through his hair. Fussing about it in the mirror too, trying to comb it back and to the side.

“You look good, Casanova.” Jessa drawled, wiping rivers of milky cum from her thighs.

Charlie’s phone buzzed in his pocket just then, startling him more than it probably should have, and he took it out to glare at the little bright screen. Then he snickered, flashing her a sheepish look.

“The guys just left, they are doing a bar crawl. Guess they got sick of waiting around…”

The whole affair couldn’t have lasted more than twenty minutes, but it was still a wonder no one had tried to knock on the door yet. Charlie put the phone away, rescuing a way smaller and more intriguing item from his pocket.

Jessa narrowed her eyes, looking at the scrawny thing. “Pft. Guess they did. Yo, is that a doobie?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Why do you have that? And why is it shaped like that?”

“Hey, it got crushed in my pants!”

He’d also messed it up, rolled it way too thin and tight with his fingers, but she didn’t need to know that.

“I have it in case I needed to take the edge off…—In case you didn’t show, okay?”

“Okay, that’s depressing. But bless your soul for thinking of it, anyway.”

“Tis’ what it takes to get in your good graces, then?” He waved the joint at her face, putting it to his smirking lips as she shot him a dirty look.

“Got a light?”

Pushing their luck, they stayed inside to smoke by the rattling air vent, Charlie’s arm draped lazily around her shoulders. She fit so snug there, so nice, within the curve of his body.

“Ever fucked in a public bathroom before?” Jessa asked out of nowhere.

The smoke escaped Charlie in bursts as he laughed and coughed, more high on oxytocin than anything else, probably.

“Fuck, no. You?”

“Oh, many a time.”

Charlie bit his tongue and leaned down to kiss her, thin smoke whirling from his pink, lovely lips on their way down to massage hers. It was languid, unhurried and perfect.

Sweet as candy.

Headier than a drug.

A feeling she knew she wasn’t gonna get sick of any time soon; One she could let herself get addicted to, if she wanted.

“You have the best lips…” Jessa mumbled, trailing her nails up and down his soft abs.

She felt him smile into the kiss, heaving a wistful little sigh when their mouths inevitably parted.

“We’ve been so stupid…”

Charlie went quiet then, and it was Jessa’s turn to hit the joint and tackle her demons. Smoke wafted into the air as she exhaled, creating a dreamy, movie-like haze that the overhead fan sluggishly absorbed.

She was as glowing, as magnetic as the first time he ever saw her. Charlie watched her intently as she mulled the thoughts over in her head, a pensive frown lingering in her brow.

“So are we gonna try… to actually be together, or…”

She didn’t finish the sentence, so Charlie ventured some of his own, most hopeful thoughts.

“Yeah, Jess. No more awkwardness, no more being a brat. We communicate,” He gestured between the two. “alright?”

“Communicate. Right. Even when we’re afraid.”

“Even when we’re afraid. Especially when we’re afraid.” Charlie’s free hand had come up to cup her face, and he was watching her with those massive brown eyes that had the gravity of planets, that drove her to bare her entire soul out to him. Through a mortifying bout of verbal diarrhea, apparently.

“I was so sure I’d lose you. After the things I told you… the complicated stuff about my past.”

Her junkie, problematic, complicated past. That tiny, brittle fragment of vulnerability she’d shown him, the one that she would carry with her for the rest of her days.

“That doesn’t scare me. I’m not afraid, I—” Charlie stumbled over the words, shaking his head as his breath picked up. “I love you; I do. You don’t need to say anything back, but I do. I just—I loved you before, and I love you now. We can take it as slow as we want, be whatever the hell we want to be, but that’s not gonna change.”

The half smoked joint tumbled to the floor, unacknowledged. Jessa didn’t trust herself with her voice but she had to tell him, he needed to know—What he was getting into, what he was starting with her, those words…

“Be careful, Barber. I think—I think I might say it too.”

“Doesn’t scare me either.” He instantly repeated, eyes bright and sparkling like stars, trying to swallow down his fizzling emotions. “The thing is—I may have been married before, but the way I feel for you…? I’ve never felt this way before in my whole life.”

Following an astounding impulse, Jessa pushed to her tip-toes and yanked his face to her lips, where she could finally, lovingly, heatedly claim him. Claim Charlie, for herself, as he met her with rivaling amounts of passion. Her heart felt like it was gonna burst from how full it suddenly felt, how warm and gooey and strange.

Charlie’s hands remained on either side of her face, sandwiching it as she chuckled, breaking the kiss. Bashful, perhaps for the first time ever.

“I’m not exactly wife material, you know.”

“Fuck that, Jessa, fuck that so much. I don’t care; You’re so much more than that, you’re a different story.”

Charlie flashed her his winning, goofy, thousand watt smile. “We’re a different story, baby girl.”

And yeah—she might have easily been crazy about him too. She might have been as madly, as stupidly gone for him as he was for her. Her big, darling Sasquatch.

How long they stayed in that shitty bathroom, making out like young sweethearts, like newlyweds, like the horny, kinky, crazy motherfuckers they were… no one can tell for sure.

❤️🔥 ❤️🔥 ❤️🔥

THE END (?)