beyondtheline | (no subject)

(no subject)

[Chrissy falls into a deep, dreamless sleep. She doesn't wake up until he pulls her out of sleep the next day. Despite knowing that Hawkins lies ahead of them, she's in a rested and good mood as they pack up their things and get ready to head out. They stop at a diner about thirty minutes away, and don't waste too much time eating. That probably has to do with the fact they both inhale their food and then some, and Chrissy's pleased to note that the waitress can see them just fine.

So maybe he's right, and they're only half dead. Either that, or starving ghosts can make themselves be seen in the name of getting food.

They go wash up in the bathroom before heading out from the diner, and Chrissy almost tries luring him into one of the stalls with her. But she behaves herself, feeling a little tense as they head back out to his bike.

The drive to Hawkins both feels like it takes forever and goes by too quickly. They listen to music and quietly chat about their childhood, and Chrissy keeps her arms wrapped tight around him the entire drive. Occasionally she presses a kiss to the back of his neck or his leather clad shoulder. The affection is easy and natural at this point, and he doesn't seem to mind her giving it to him anymore. It's just part of the way they are together.

That easy affection continues as they pull into Hawkins and Chrissy feels sick to her stomach. It's late afternoon by the time they pull up in front of her house, and her legs feel like they're made of Jello as he lifts her off the bike. She takes two steps before stumbling right into him, clinging hold of his hand for dear life. ]

I don't know if I can do this.

[She whispers, feeling so stupid. He's here with her, she can do this. She just has to be strong like he's teaching her to be.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[At first, her head lifts to watch him travel down lower. But he's taking his time, and for once, she doesn't want to urge him to hurry. Her head falls back against the bed, her hair spreading out beneath her. His attention is doing wonders to warm her up quickly, and he shifts and sighs against him as he takes his time exploring her body.

Her fingers gently thread through his hair at some point, though she doesn't pull or use the hold to guide him. Oh, she might arch her back slightly as he sucks at her nipple. And she definitely gasps at how good it feels. But she also just enjoys the drawn out attention, letting her hands slowly explore what she can reach on his body.

It's easy for them to get caught up in just wanting to quickly get off. But taking time like this is important to grow closer. She realizes that it's also important for her to find her voice.]

Do that again. Please?

[She requests, right as she bites at her lip. She'll work on being more vocal and direct, but he hasn't had any complaints about her more passive nature so far.]

Mm.

[It's just a soft little sound of assent before he does as requested, lavishing extra attention on that sensitive little spot. And just when she might think he's done, he simply kisses across her chest to her other breast and makes sure it gets equal treatment from his tongue, lips and teeth.

She's so perfect, laid out before him like this, letting herself just take it all in. It's nice to slow down once in a while, even he's able to admit that. Somehow it feels different, though, like it's not just sex but - well, something else he can't put words to. Affectionate, intimate, meant for something other than just short-term flings.

Johnnie works his way down her belly like he's mapping her skin with his lips, tasting every inch of it until he's backed himself all the way down the bed and has his head between her thighs. He wraps his hands around her hips just in case she gets wiggly so he can keep her in place, then explores the folds between her legs, lapping his tongue slowly upward in even strokes before dipping his tongue into her for a long, slow drag.

As he caresses her opening with his tongue, he tips his head up just enough to see her face just so he can enjoy the sight of what she's feeling as it must be written all over in her expressions. He wants her to feel good, and wants to be the one who makes her feel that way no matter what.]

[There's definitely something different about this. It's amazing, sex with him always is. But there's a newfound intimacy and tenderness to his attention that makes everything only feel more amplified. So this is what it feels like to be with someone you trust completely, and there are feelings mingled with the physical. She hasn't ever experienced anything quite like this before, and she finds it almost too heady for her to handle.

She doesn't ask him to pause or stop though, too caught up in the warm pull of pleasure that makes her stomach suck inward as she shakily inhales, a low groan slipping past her lips as he looks up to her. Her eyes are half-lidded, face fixed in a look of concentrated pleasure. With her hand petting and stroking his hair, she doesn't press him to hurry. She soaks up every ounce of affection and attention he has to give her, whispering to him how good he is to her.

It's surprising she isn't driven to the point of wiggling or craving something more. This isn't about friction and heat, though she has no doubts he'll drive her to her peak eventually. But she's enjoying the slow build, her only movements slight arches of her back or a light press of her thighs against him. And if she occasionally lets the hand that's not in his hair trail her own body and touch at her breast, she doesn't think he'll mind. Especially not when she whimpers his name so softly and tenderly that it sounds like they've been lovers for far longer than just a handful of days.]

[No, she won't find him minding at all. In fact, for a moment he watches, a smile on his face as he continues to lap at her with slow, broad strokes of his tongue.

She's being so good, and so she'll get her reward, especially for calling his name like that, like he's the only thing that matters in her entire world right now. His tongue drags a long trail all the way along those soft lower lips of hers and this time reaches her clit. After a few gentle laps, he closes his eyes and focuses his affection there more intensely, pressing and rolling that little sensitive spot with his lips and tongue. One hand trails nails along the outside of her thigh, leaving bright red lines in it wake. She said she kind of enjoyed that mix of pain and pleasure before, after all. Might as well give her more of it.]

[The rest of the world could be burning around them right now, and she'd be blind to it. He's the center of her universe, and her pleasure is his entire focus. Pleasure coils tighter and tighter as he works at her clit, and those efforts combined with the mix of pain and pleasure cause her to start coming undone. Still feeling that overwhelming rush of emotion, the attention to her sensitive nub starts to feel like too much.

Her breathing quickens as her thighs press more firmly against his head, and she almost arches her hips away from his face. With his hands holding her though, there's nowhere to go, and a needy whine drags out of her as it starts to feel like maybe she can't handle it. She can, though, she knows she can. She'll always take whatever he has to give her.

When he finally coaxes her to completion, she's about to sob. She shivers from head to toe as her orgasm washes over her, her hand fisted in the blankets beneath them. He continues to lavish her with attention to her clit as it happens, and she swears that manages to draw out her climax to the point sensitivity is definitely edging in on painful.

It's only then that she lifts her leg to give him a nudge with her foot, almost gently pushing him off of her. All she can do in the moments after is watch him with a contented look on her face, as she tries to regulate her breathing.]

[He does love pushing her a little extra far, it's true. In a lot of things, as she's probably finding, but it's so incredible to watch and feel her as she completely gives in to the intensity of her own pleasure.

She nudges him and he swipes at her leg, laughing a little, and places a kiss just above her clit before he rolls off and licks his lips, then wipes his face off on his forearm.]

That felt good, huh?

[He snickers and crawls up to where he can lay at her side and pull her into his arms, a smug little smirk on his face. Seeing her in this state of bliss definitely counts as a little personal victory - not the first one, and surely not the last, either. It is absolutely absurd that she never had a guy do this for her before, but then again, her small-town idiot ex probably didn't have a clue about a lot of things.]

[He has to wait a minute for her to say anything, because when she opens her mouth she actually isn't able to do anything other than just stupidly grin. She's able to laugh at herself though, and drapes her arm across her face as she comes down off her high.]

Oh my gosh, I love you for doing that.

[Still laughing in disbelief that her body is capable of feeling this electric and good, she's easily pulled into his arms. Her tiny frame fits perfectly against him, and if he thought she was cuddly before, it's likely only worse now.

Her lips seek out his, not minding the taste of herself on him. It takes a handful of little pecks and slightly more drawn out kisses before she has her fill.]

Any time.

[Which is one of those things people say sometimes as a throwaway, an alternative to "you're welcome," but for him, he means it. She's beautiful, and the way she arches against his mouth, curves that spine away from the bed and moans and writhes with her fists in the sheets, that's even more beautiful, and it's all for him.

So she can have all the kisses she wants, and she claims enough but he steals another anyway, then smiles and sits up so he can drag the blankets out from under their feet and over the top of them both, trapping all that warmth before it can leach away.

He's quick to get his arms back around her, afterward. She feels right, pressed against him like this. Maybe he's taken to cuddles too, at least when he's this happy and this beat.

One more kiss, then one more on her forehead, before he gives a content sigh.]

Almost can't believe I found you in that shithole of a town. What if I hadn't decided to stop there? Weird thought, isn't it?

[Just idle musing, though. Can't put too much weight on things like chance and alternate versions of the past. Maybe some part of him knew all along that he'd find her there, maybe that's why he wound up there. Impossible to puzzle out reasons for things that happen to him, really.]

[He's able to travel through time on that motorcycle of his, so maybe it wasn't just chance that had him driving through Hawkins at exactly the right time. She's never believed in things like fate before, probably because she's been so desperate to have any little scrap of control over her own life that she can get. But he was right there when she needed him. It's better to think of that, rather than focus on the fact if he hadn't been there, she would've ended up in that awful place alone.]

What if we were supposed to find each other though? Like one of those meant to be kind of things.

[It's an awfully romantic thought, and she happily sighs as she snuggles in close and settles down curled up against him. Her arm is flopped over him possessively, and her foot is idly rubbing against his. She could fall asleep just like this. After the day's events, it feels like she could rest for three days straight and it wouldn't be enough.]

I think we're pretty legendary, baby.

[She says it through a yawn, and her head turns so she can nuzzle her cheek against him.]

Always wanted to be legendary.

[But like, for other things than being dead and picking up a girl who he can't let go of. Legends are made of all sorts of things, after all, including dreams of being a rock star, and also a real whirlwind of destruction, the sort of thing that has people whispering his name in awe and fear when the night falls.

But he has to admit, there's something about what they've done that does strike a real chord. It's more like those old westerns he grew up with in the fifties. A man and his girl, riding into the unknown, adventuring the wilderness and its mysteries. Only he's got a bike and not a horse, and the wilderness is built on, full of roads and rival gangs and bullshit laws meant to keep people in neat little boxes so they can obey the rich and powerful.

Definitely doesn't make it any less epic. Actually, being a modern legend might be even cooler. Slowly, a sleepy grin creeps across his face.]

Guess we're outlaws. Right? We're outside the rules of life itself now. Fuck. That is cool.

[That might well be the last thing he mumbles before he falls asleep, but maybe it'll bring good dreams this time to replace the void-filled echoes that want to occupy his head any time he closes his eyes for more than a few minutes.]

Yeah. Just like Bonnie and Clyde.

[Who met tragic endings, but she won't get into that. The pull of sleep is too strong, and she's too warm and comfortable to fight it. She sleeps soundly for a while, safe at his side. But eventually visions of her dead body and that awful place creep into her dreams, and she jumps awake in a near panic.

She carefully makes her way out of bed, stumbling her way to the bathroom. She's disoriented after the intensity of her nightmares, and needs a few minutes to compose herself. The shower gets turned on, but rather than stepping into the tub, she slides down the wall to sit on the grimy tile floor.

The bathroom fills with steam as the lets the scalding hot water continue to pour. She hopes that enough to cover the sound of her crying, because she doesn't want Johnnie to be bothered by her being upset. Finally, the day's events start to process through her mind. And she sobs as quietly as she can, hiccuping a little as she tries to bottle it all back in. When she can't, her hands childishly rub at her eyes, attempting to wipe away any evidence that she's struggling.]

[Sleep is fucked.

That's about as eloquent as he's feeling when he wakes up again, bitter that no, the good dreams didn't get to rule his head tonight. At least there's some peace to be found in his memories of that astral expanse, sometimes, but most of it is too vast, too dark, too suffocating. He dreams of places he's never been and things he's never seen, and has no explanation for why rivers of black flow through some exotic tropical jungle, or why in some other time the sky opens up and bares its teeth at the world below, and rains down a torrent that washes entire civilizations down some nameless drain.

His head's still pretty fuzzy as he blinks against the darkness and realizes two things. Chrissy isn't next to him, and he can still hear the rain. Except, no, that's the shower, isn't it? What time is it? Five AM? No wonder he can't sleep, when too often this is when he's normally heading to bed back home.

Seems odd Chrissy would get up and shower right now, though who knows what her usual is. He lies there a while longer, head stuffed into the pillow, before he becomes aware that he's pretty sure he can just make out the occasional quiet sob from the direction of the bathroom.

Ah, fuck.

Well, all right, now he has to get up and see what's wrong, because he has some aching feeling it's his fault somehow and needs to know. He blearily fumbles his way to the bathroom and knocks on the door.]

Chrissy? You okay?

Yeah!

[She's so used to having to put on a cheerful face and lie through her teeth that the response is automatic. There's a fear that if she stops being fun and is too much work, he'll realize he's better off ditching her and continuing on by himself. But the more rational part of her mind tells her that he isn't likely to do that. He's told her not to be sorry about the way she feels. She's supposed to feel everything because that's what makes life worth living.

So she picks herself up, only realizing she's still naked as she catches a glance of herself in the foggy bathroom mirror. The door opens and at first, she isn't sure what to do or say. So she stands there, continuing to wipe at the tears that are still pouring.]

I keep dreaming about that place we found my body in.

[Somehow, the words manage to come out without her sobbing. She's only able to look up at him with wide, sad eyes for a few seconds longer before she's falling up against him. Her arms slip up around him, and she just lets herself finish crying it out.]

I'm sorry I woke you up.

[Maybe if she apologizes, he won't mind her being this upset.]

Aw, babe.

[If she hadn't come to him, he would have wrapped her up right then and there in his arms. Poor girl. She's all dripping wet but he really doesn't care, and with her in his arms, he walks her back over to the edge of the bed and sits them both down. Slowly, he rubs a hand up and down her back, and holds her close.]

Don't be sorry. I wasn't sleeping well anyway. An' that place was definitely the kinda place that fucks with your head. Hard to forget shit like that once you've seen it.

[It's not like he's going to forget any time soon, and it wasn't his body that was all mangled and pinned up like some kind of grotesque trophy, either. He's just gotten to be an expert at trying not to dwell on things, because too much of that might really drive him crazy.

He presses a kiss to her soggy hair and doesn't let go. Won't let go until her crying stops, since he's not sure what else to do anyway.]

[The fact that he doesn't discard her when she isn't perfect makes an entire lifetime of being told no one will want her if she's not pretty and simple and happy seem so stupid. The realization that someone finally cares enough about her to want her even through the parts that aren't pretty only make her cry more.

It takes some time, but the tears do slowly come to a stop. He holds her and she clings to him, but he doesn't ever let her go. That in itself is enough to eventually render her into stillness. A kiss is pressed to his shoulder, a silent show of gratitude for his being there for her.]

Do you think you can go back to sleep?

Dunno. Probably should try. Not your fault if I can't, though, before you think anything like that. Like I said, wasn't sleeping well. Too much shit in my head.

[Which, yeah, he knows he's never fully elaborated on, but now really doesn't feel like the time. He's said enough where she can either guess, or misunderstand, or just ignore it, and he doesn't particularly care which she opts for right now.]

Could always put the TV on until we fall asleep. Sometimes those late night movies are good for that. Uh - you want a towel?

[Because he'll go up and get one, if she does. Got to be more comfortable for her if she dries off first. Probably more comfortable for him too, but he's awfully accommodating when it comes to her, or to girls crying in general, for that matter. But especially her.]

[She nods, and pries herself off of him so he can go get a towel for her. When he brings it back, she whispers a barely audible thank you to him, and takes some time to dry off. Her head feels heavy, like she wants to sink right back into sleep. It's hard to trust that it won't be a restless sleep, but she knows that he'll be right there. And if there's any real danger, he won't let it get near her.

Maybe he guides her back into bed, or maybe they both move together. Chrissy's a little out of it, and it seems like she blinks and then they're curled back up against the pillows and are snug beneath the blankets. This time, she makes herself as small as possible, and guides his arm to wrap around her. She relaxes almost immediately, even managing a smile.]

Do you want to talk about what's going on in your head?

[No, he really doesn't.

But he manages to hold his tongue and not just say that in automatic response. Just once, he'll think about it for a few seconds first. It's not even that it's especially horrible to talk about - well, no, it is but he can do it anyway, he's sure - it's more that it's just not something he wants to burden her with, it's not something he can do anything about, and wasting time and energy on any of it feels futile. If there's anyone who can understand it and help him make sense of it, it's a guy who's far away and who he's really goddamned intimidated by anyway, because while he respects the hell out of the Ender, he's also fucking terrifying and probably not down for casual chats about the void.

Right. Well, maybe Chrissy deserves to know more if they're really going to be traveling together for the foreseeable future. That's probably a good reason. She'll just have to forgive that pause, and his careful reluctance as he puts things into words.]

I told you some of it already, right? About how all that shit I saw when those assholes murdered me keeps comin' back. You know, it's just hard to shake. You ever had a dream where you see yourself, an' everything zooms out forever until you realize you're nothing? Like, it's all too big, an' the farther out you go, even stars are just grains of sand. It's... like that.

[Sort of. It's like a lot more than that, but it's too much to describe adequately. He's only human, and all of that is very much not. Humans might as well be less than ants compared to all the rest of it.

He squints, frowns, then shakes his head.]

Except I think... I dunno, sorry, it's real fucked up. An' I don't wanna freak you out if you're tryin' to get back to sleep. Just makes it hard for me, that's all.

It sounds really messed up.

[She can agree on that. It's also sweet that he doesn't want to scare her, but she can tell that maybe it's one of those things she shouldn't press to get more details on. Not yet. Instead she turns enough that she can hold him in return, her hand soothingly rubbing up and down his side.]

I know what you mean though. About feeling so small and insignificant. If it helps, you can use me as your anchor. If you ever feel like you're floating away into the darkness, I'll bring you back down to Earth.

[Her hand seeks out his, and she threads their fingers together. They've been through more in the past few days than other couples have their entire lives. It's really brought them together, but the affection she feels for him goes beyond all that. She can only hope that she's enough to be able to keep him grounded in reality, instead of letting the void in his mind consume him.]

Might just have to take you up on that.

[And in a way, he already has, hasn't he? He looks for her right when he wakes up, every time, as a way of making sure he knows where he is. Hallucinations aren't warm and comfortable the way she is when she's right next to him.]

When we were in that other place back in Hawkins, you know, I said I'd seen that before, an' I have. It's one of the places I saw when I was... dying, I guess. Still see it sometimes too. You're never there, though. So, I know that place was really fucking hard for both of us, but the fact I had you there helped me know I wasn't just trapped in those nightmares again. We fought that shit off together.

[Hopefully that's reassuring, even if it means bringing up that particular source of her own nightmares. The fact that it's shared, that means something, doesn't it?

Bothers him that he saw it before he ever went there himself, but maybe that's going to be normal for the rest of his... whatever this is. Not quite life, but not death either.]

We did, didn't we.

[She's a little proud of herself for finding the strength to do what little she did. It was only because he was there and she wanted to protect him that she found it. She thinks she'd do just about anything to keep him safe and with her, and to make him happy. If all she has to do is be a touchstone for him, she's glad to do it.]

It was really hard, but we got through it together. That place was so, so scary. And I know what goes on in your head has to be too. But we have each other, and I think love is a lot stronger than all of those dark, terrible things that are out there.

[She has to shift a little to do it, but her lips against his are soft and meant more for reassurance than anything.]

We'll be okay. Just as long as we're together.

[And with that thought in mind, she considers giving in to the threat of sleep that wants to pull her back in. He'll be there when she wakes up. She's not ever going to be alone and afraid again.]

[Love is a big word and that's the second time she's used it now. Oh, he noticed earlier, but held off giving it much weight. This is twice, though, and twice isn't something done or said carelessly.

It's flattering, and he cares a lot about her, he can't deny either of those things. He's been in love before too, or thought he was at the time, but it's hard not to feel a little cynical about it now. Everyone thinks they're in love at sixteen with their first or second or third crush, probably. And she's less experienced than he is, definitely hasn't been with someone who took care of her the way he does, and...

Well, she's being honest about her feelings like he told her to, and he's grateful for that. Maybe he's being too cautious, because she really has been one of the brightest parts of his life already, even though it's only been a few days.

Too much to make decisions about when he's tired. Tomorrow. He nods his assent to what she says instead of continuing to debate it with himself. They'll stick together, and they'll be better off because of it. Her lips are sweet against his, and she fits perfectly in his arms. Maybe he'll manage to get more sleep this time.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only