Title: The Mansion of a Love
Category: Het, Larry/Megan
Setting: Not long before, or perhaps even sometime during "Killer Chat."
Word Count: 300 (a triple-drabble?)
Summary: Six months of dating and they still hadn't slept together. Not exactly a first-time fic...except that it is. Um.
The Mansion of a Love
She traced the angles of Larry's face, fingertips skimming across his pale lashes and brows. He gazed back, the hand in her hair tracing circles at the back of her neck, the other moving gently up and down her body, warm through the thin silk of her dress, catching bare skin as the hem rode up her thigh.
This was not how she'd thought it would go. Not that anything about her relationship with Larry had been predictable--she liked it that way--but six months of dating and they still hadn't slept together. Megan didn't usually have any trouble asking for what she wanted, or divining what her partner wanted. Larry's touch (even just his voice, his glance) confounded those instincts, waking every inch of her into life but toppling her sense of timing, as if she were a virginal student again.
Was he waiting for some signal she was failing to give? Or was he simply half hers and half the stars', too lost in his coming flight to the space station to be entirely present?
He leaned in, hand cradling her head, and the brush of his lips turned passionate, urgent. She was being unfair. He was deeply, richly present.
The tears that welled in her eyes were unexpected; she tried to blink them back. Don't go, she wanted to say, not yet. She wouldn't take his heart's desire from him if she could, she wouldn't, but it felt so much like losing him. . . .
Larry brushed moisture from her lashes with a curious thumb, searching her expression wordlessly for the source. Then, as if a decision had been made, he stood and pulled her up by one hand.
"Where are we going?" Megan asked.
He smiled, tucked his free arm around her waist, and guided her toward the bedroom.