Chapter Text
This is objectively a bad idea.
Fine. The whole situation that led here was a series of objectively bad ideas, but also the most rewarding set of life choices Karen’s ever made, and-
Her partner’s fingers stop on her inner thigh, and she sees that look in his eyes like he’d do any damn thing she’d ask right now, and there is nothing in the world but this.
His body covers hers, always a shield against the word, for once for nothing worse than modesty. They’re trying to do things normal now, go on dates and act like the ordinary couple she suspects neither of them is actually capable of being, and this is part of it somehow, this is-
“Ren?”
“Yeah?”
“If this is-”
“Touch me and see if you still-”
His fingers climb up, pushing her underwear aside, and his thumb brushes her clit and she sees his breath catch. If she were in a different mood she'd make this into more of a thing, remind him that she knows her own body and he should listen, but as it is-
“Fuck.”
“You gonna do something about that?”
He likes being challenged, she’s learned, and he likes a clear to-do list. She can easily give both, and she knows-
“You got a preference?”
“Either finger me or fuck me. Unless you really do feel like kneeing on pavement and hoping-"
His eyes flash dark like he’s almost thinking about it, damaged body and semi-public location be ignored, but-
“Need you to decide.”
Her hand slips between them and finds what she wants. “I don't think this would be comfortable for walking home.”
It’s still so strange, this… normal. She’s used to the impossibilities of getting him out of full gear – trying to get laid when he’s just done something he won't directly tell her about sure is a process, and she’s learned not to bother, to wait until he’s steady again before she even tries. It’s so much easier to undo a mundane pair of jeans, slip her hand in there and just hold his cock for a moment and this is hers, everything beautiful left in him is hers and-
If she’d waited to get home, she’d do this differently. Make clear that she wants him as much as she wants to get her needs met. But here they are again, about to fuck in an alley as if they aren’t as old and jaded and better-than-this as they are and-
One of his hands slips behind her head, the other under her ass. They are surprisingly good at wall sex, for that being an activity neither of them was inclined towards before they escalated; she’s in decent heels tonight so that’ll make it even easier, and-
Familiarity is in their favor, she thinks as she feels the stretch of him. She’s never sure what to do with her hands and settles for grabbing at his upper back, again it’s just so weird to do this with less layers and is it bad that she’s not sure she likes it and-
“This okay?”
“Slower pace. I don't want-”
“Don’t fuck up your skirt, got it.”
“I was going to say the back of my thighs, but-”
She laughs anyway, and he adapts as she wants. There’s something beyond words about their physical interplay, both gentle and… not rough , that’s such an unpleasant word, but… through, maybe. Something that exists in the fullness of the, reverent, cautious without underestimating her and-
He moves his hips against hers and oh she’s going to be sore tomorrow and she’ll regret nothing, she has an important meeting in the morning and she’s going to space ut thinking abut her boyfriend like she isn’t recently on the far side of forty and aiming for awards this year and a competent woman with a full life beyond the intimate parts of it and yet-
"You're detaching.”
“Not intentionally."
“Still gets weird when it happens.”
“My mind wanders, it’s nothing you-”
“If we need to stop-”
She knows his body well enough, and she wants to say something about stamina and how she can survive anything for thirty more seconds, and that’s not who they are but god it’s tempting and-
“No. I want you.”
He gets off; she gets close. It happens. She feels better as their bodies separate than she did at the moment of collision, and she can ask for what she needs later, in the privacy of their apartment, and-
“Fuck, you’re a dangerous woman.”
“Like you minded that,” she laughs as they separate, as she accepts that this pair of underwear is probably ruined but whatever, small sacrifices for reminders she’s adored and-
“Still the most impatient person I’ve ever been with.”
A few mean thoughts cross her mind, as do a few about her body count being higher and more interesting than his, but-
“And you love it.”
He takes a kiss, soft, fingers running through her hair and it still surprises her that he can be as sweet with her as he is and-
“Yeah. I do.”