ThoughtlessBy: S.C. Stephens
As Kellan gave me a sweet kiss, my sister, watching us at the corner of the guys table, said she was jealous of our closeness, while giving an oblivious Griffin a pointed glance that he completely ignored. I couldn't help but wonder if my sister would eventually tame that D-Bag...maybe they'd tame each other. As Griffin had his hands on some other girl's ass the next night, and my sister brought home (I swear) a Calvin Klein model, I thought, maybe not.
I didn't care, I had my man and he had me. It took an additional three months, but eventually, he did have all of me. Our first time being together as a legitimate boyfriend and girlfriend was coincidently a year to the day that I had seen Kellan singing at Pete's for the first time. We took our time, savoring every moment and every sensation.
He sang my song softly to me as he undressed us, his voice low and husky, and full of emotion. I fought back tears the entire time. When the part where the long instrumental section came up, and his administrations to my body got more...intense, the rest of the song was quickly forgotten, and it became very clear that six months of separation and restraint did nothing to squelch our fire. If anything, the wait had made it better...it meant more. It meant everything.
Our reconnection was intense and deeply emotional, like much of our relationship had been. He muttered things to me while we made love - how beautiful he thought I was, how much he'd missed me, how much he needed me, how empty he'd been, how much he loved me. I couldn't even speak to tell him I felt the exact same, I was too overcome by the emotion in his voice. Then he said something that tore me.
"Don't leave...I don't want to be alone." He had actual tears in his eyes as he looked down on me. "I don't want to be alone anymore." Even through the intensity of everything else I was feeling, I could sense the waves of loneliness coming off of him.
I grabbed his face, our movements never stopping. "I'm not. I won't...ever..." I kissed him fiercely to reassure him, and he twisted us so that we were still facing each other but lying sideways on the bed - still connected, still moving together, still making love to each other.
His eyes watered to near overflowing and he closed them, his hand moving from our hips to trail up the side of my body, pulling me even closer to him, like he couldn't get near enough. "I don't want to be without you," he whispered.
"I'm right here, Kellan." I grabbed his hand and put it over my racing heart. "I'm with you...I'm right here." My eyes watered now too, and I closed them as emotion flooded me.
I kissed him again and he left his hand over my heart, almost as if he was afraid if he removed it, I suddenly wouldn't be real anymore. I moved my hand over his, right over his tattoo and we both felt the pulsing life of each other. I opened my eyes and studied his face between tender kisses. He relaxed a bit as my kiss and heartbeat eased his ache, but he left his eyes closed.
I got lost in the moment, watching him, watching the emotion and the pleasure, and even moments of pain shift through his features. His steady rhythm started increasing, along with his breath, and I kissed him softly as low groans he made quickened my own breath. I knew he was getting close, but I was so mesmerized by watching him, that I'd almost stopped paying attention to the amazing things going on in my body. I couldn't concentrate on anything, but the look on his face and the ache in his voice.
Just when I knew he was on the edge, he opened his eyes and cupped my cheek with the hand that had been resting on my heart. "Please," he whispered intently. "I'm so close, Kiera." He inhaled through his teeth and groaned softly. "I don't want...I don't want to do this alone." His eyes still glistened, like any minute a heavy tear would drop, and my own eyes moistened again in response.
"I'm right here, Kellan. You're not alone...you're not alone anymore."
I stopped focusing on what I was doing to him and started focusing on what he was doing to me. That tiny mental shift was all I needed to fall right off the edge. I gripped him tight and held absolutely nothing back from him, letting him know exactly how deep in this I was with him, and he fell right off that edge with me. Then, as we both fell, our eyes locked and we simultaneously stopped breathing, stopped vocalizing, and silently experienced something deeply profound...together.
Our lips found each other's as the fire raged through each of us - hard at first, deep and intense, and then tapering off to light, barely brushing each other kisses, as the fire in us dulled to glowing embers, waiting to flare up again when the moment was right.
He readjusted our bodies, but kept us facing each other, his arms wrapped around me and holding me tight. With another soft kiss, he murmured "thank you" and I blushed horribly, but clutched him tight. He dropped his head to the crook of my neck and rocking against my skin, softly said, "I'm sorry."
I pulled back and he reluctantly lifted his head to look at me. He looked satisfied, but a little embarrassed too. "I didn't mean to...practically become a girl." He shook his head and looked down while a soft laugh escaped me, at the memory of once accusing him of being just that.
I brought a hand to his cheek and he looked back up at me. "Can I assure you, that you're not?" He smiled softly at the comment.
His smile flipped to a small frown and he looked down again. "It's just been awhile, and there was a time when I thought we'd never be..." He shrugged as he struggled for words. "I guess I just got a little...overwhelmed by it, and I'm sorry." He looked up, and an adorably cute grimace was on his face. "I didn't mean to freak out. That was...embarrassing."
"There is nothing about you to be embarrassed about." A small devilish smile lifted his lips, and I blushed as the way he'd taken my words sunk in. With a small laugh, I ran my hand back through his hair and kissed him for a long moment. Pulling back, I ran my fingers down his cheek and with as comforting a voice as I could muster, said, "You don't have to ever feel sorry with me for that...for saying what you really feel...or fear."
I shifted us, so I was on my back and he was mostly on top of me, our legs tangling together warmly. I cupped his face in both of my hands while he smiled contently above me. "Don't ever hold anything back from me. I want to know...I want to know what you're feeling, even if you think I don't, even if you have trouble saying it." His eyes drifted away from mine and I gently moved his head, until he looked at me again. "I love you. I'm not going anywhere."
He nodded and sank his body down to lay on top of me, his arms tucked under me, his forehead resting against my neck. I sighed and began running my fingers back through his hair repeatedly, occasionally turning to kiss his head, making him sigh and hold me tighter. And so, our first night sleeping together, in the figurative and literal sense of the word, ended with me holding and comforting him. And I found something deep and emotionally binding in that. As my fingers brushing through his hair eventually soothed him into sleep, his hold on me never slackened, and I realized that it never would. The love we felt for each other, while definitely never planned or expected, as I suppose most love isn't, had irrevocably seared us both...deeply. It wouldn't fade. It wouldn't shift to another. It probably wouldn't always be easy...but it would always be...always. And as sleep drifted over me, true peace followed right behind it.