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Dec. 3rd, 2022 at 12:56 AM
[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.]
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.]
Comments
She whispers an apology to him as she has Johnnie help her prepare a bottle for the throwing. It's sweet that he's letting her have the first throw, that he trusts her to be able to do it without messing things up.
Her smile turns into a wild grin by the time they finally get the scarf in place. She waits until he's got a few more prepped before she fiddles with the lighter and gets her bottle lit. It doesn't start out burning strong, so she holds it away from her face and watches closely as things start going.
Maybe she holds onto it a little too long, because she panics as it starts to get too hot and she hurls it toward the trailer with a gasp. It manages to make it through the front door, but just barely. They've really got to work on her throwing arm.
The second it hits the ground though, she steps back until she's safely pressed up against him. Guilt instantly fills her, but it leaves just as quickly as it comes on.]
Do we need to throw another?
[She's already going to grab one of the bottles he's prepped.]
[He glances toward it though just to be sure, and decides, fuck it. He wants it to burn faster.]
Don't want anything comin' back outta that fucked up place, though. Here, I got it.
[Her throw was fine, he's not bothered, but he wants to get a move on. He hops on the bike and gives her a hand, balances the open bag of bottles with their soaked scarves between his knees, then passes one back to her to hold onto.]
Gotta get you a lighter, next gas station. You ready?
[He'll just catch this on fire real quick, give it a few seconds as he starts up the bike, then fling it in through that door with a whoop of joy.]
Hell yeah! Here, pick one!
[They'll take a nice slow little loop through this trailer park, just to give her the tutorial version before they take to the main streets to get out of here before the cops notice the fires. That decided, he holds his lighter back over his shoulder for her to take.]
They blur through Hawkins like that, the two of them laughing and hollering. The girl that's on the back of his bike isn't the same one that met him a few days ago. She's come so far in that time that she doesn't even recognize herself anymore.
It's as she guides him by Jason's house that she lets him take over. Throwing the molotovs has been cathartic for her so far, but she's thinking maybe he should do this in lieu of beating her ex-boyfriend up. That way they'll get out of town faster, which is sounding pretty nice since they're both still soaking wet and messy.]
I think you should do this one. It's the last two bottles before we need to get out of here.
[There's police and fire sirens in the background, and she isn't sure if they're edging in on them or simply following the wake of their destruction. It doesn't really matter though. She knows they'll get this done, she'll wrap her arms around him tight as can be, and they'll make their great escape into the unknown.]
But that's all right. He'll get her back to California and then she can be right there with him as the whole crew becomes that wild cyclone of violence against whoever they please.
They reach that fucker's house that she'd been apparently stuck with for god knows how long, and he's all too happy to take over. One bottle crashes against a window and drips fire all over the windowsill where it soon takes hold, seeking a way inside. The second smashes into the front door, and the paint quickly peels as the fire eats its way up the wood.
The sirens are to be expected, and he takes to the side streets to avoid those assholes who are probably taking a direct route toward the fires. It's easier than it should be, he thinks, to simply vanish into the night - but maybe that's one real advantage of it being just the two of them on one bike, plus it's not like half the emergency response will even see them, maybe. He doesn't care why or how, but as fire blooms behind them and with one final cheer and a fist in the air, they're well on their way out of Hawkins and heading south.
He's still laughing a good few minutes later.]
Fuck that was good. Hey Chrissy, you got a pretty good arm on you, ya know that? Too fuckin' good. Wish we coulda stuck around to enjoy it, but y'know what, glad to be outta there. Fuck Hawkins!
[It wasn't even that amazing a victory, really, because anyone can trash a few trailers in a small town, but he doesn't care. He's just like this any time he gets to destroy something.]
[She's a little amazed with the praise, but also can't stop laughing. Hearing that he thinks she has a pretty good arm makes her want to preen, but she settles for holding up her middle finger as they drive off and get on the road.]
Yeah, fuck Hawkins!
[Sure, she has friends she's leaving behind. She had a life there. But it's only now that she's actually living. She's still laughing and riding high as she curls both arms around him, holding on tight. The occasional kiss is pressed to his cheek or the back of his neck, the adrenaline giving way to a need to just be close to him.]
We can celebrate together once we find someplace to stop.
[She sounds absolutely excited about that, and in good spirits as they get on the open road. They idly chat here and there, but mostly listen to the radio as they drive. It's an hour or so before they pull off the road into a motel parking lot. Once again, he goes into the lobby and comes back to get her.
They make their way into the room and help one another take their damp clothes off before they fall into bed together naked. She's quick to burrow her way under the blankets, eager for a chance to get nice and warm. There's room for him there too, of course, and she holds open the blanket in invitation.
Cuddling is nice in general, but cuddling with Johnnie is absolutely perfect. He holds her close and they share soft kisses here and there. The body heat combined with the blanket is enough to get her to stop shivering, and soon they both seem to settle together contently.]
Maybe we should talk about what happened.
[She says after they've been cuddling for a while, her fingers toying with his.]
I mean, you're still able to look at me and think I'm pretty, right?
[That's mostly a joke. It's not exactly what she's worried about, but it's a lighter way of addressing her discomfort with what they both saw in that strange place.]
He has his nose pressed into her hair and legs intertwined with hers when she speaks, and he's quick to press another kiss to her lips at those words.]
Of course, babe. You're gorgeous.
[But, she's right, that was really fucked up and they're lucky they're both here to talk about it. The contentedness fades from his face and he rolls onto his back, frowning up at the ceiling.]
I'm real sorry that happened to you. Still wish I'd busted some kneecaps. That... thing we saw in there, that ugly gray freak, what was that?
[Picking up on his discontent, she shifts to sit up a little. The blanket shifts down off of her, and she finds herself pressing her thumb against his chin as she looks at him.]
Maybe he was human once. But he's a monster now.
[And really, that's all she wants to say about it. It's with a soft sigh that she moves to lay back down with him, resting her head on his chest. Not wanting him to feel upset or even angry for long, her head turns and she presses a kiss against his skin.]
Do you want to get a shower?
[They could probably both use one, to be completely fair. Not that he really cares, but it's been a wild few days and jumping in lakes doesn't really count as getting cleaned up.
Besides, the hot water will feel good, and it'll feel even better with her up against him. It's thoughts like these that quickly pull him away from thinking about everything he went through in there too. He knows it's not obvious to her, all those overwhelming thoughts and nightmares that still haunt his memories, and he figures it's probably best that way. She has enough to deal with already. The image of her hanging there, broken and tortured...
Right, fuck, shower. The few seconds' delay he can attribute to just being worn out. He drags himself out of bed and stumbles toward the shower, and gets the hot water turned on. He'll let her get in first, though, take the best spot under the showerhead so she can let that warmth really seep in, because he can truly be a gentleman to his girl. She deserves a little special treatment after all that today.]
Your leg still doin' all right? Probably shoulda saved some of the alcohol to get it cleaned up sooner.
Of course, once he's in the shower with her, she doesn't hesitate to step back to press in close against him. It's nice and peaceful, even as he questions how her leg is doing.]
It hurts, but I hardly notice it anymore.
[They'll need to treat and wrap it, but maybe it would be fine to wait until tomorrow to do that. Her focus right now anyway is on him. Slowly, she turns so she's facing him. Hand pressed against his cheek at first, she slowly checks him over and feels for any sign of injury. Her touch drifts down his body, only stopping once she reaches his hip.
She steps back then so she's only halfway under the water, her other hand going to thread her fingers through his wet hair on the back of his head. His forehead is guided to press against hers, and her lips claim his in an achingly tender kiss.]
What about you? Are you doing okay?
[She doesn't mean just physically. Here, where they're hidden away from the world and it's just them, he can tell her whatever is on his mind. It's safe.]
[Blotches of blue and purple bloom across his back and an arm. Nothing he can't handle, though. It's why the leather and denim, of course - as far as clothes go, they do a good job being armor, and he gets in his fair share of scrapes where it's needed.
He debates with himself before deciding, fine, he'll say more. She's asking. That's different from dumping things on her she doesn't want. It's still hard to talk about, though. Hard to know what to say and how to say it when there's just so much. The jumble it was in before has sorted itself into something more orderly, though - not fully coherent, certainly not fully chronological, but the memories are sharper.]
Sorry I got kinda short with you while we were in there. On the way in was the worst, but the whole time it wouldn't leave me all the way alone. Kept makin' me remember the shit I saw when I got black-brained.
[It is crystal clear to him now why the right side of his face is all ripped up, and it wasn't just the vide noir trying to bust out through his skin. No, he really must've let loose trying to tear his own skin off out there in the desert before his body went still.]
Just hard to be there an' see straight, that's all. Mighta almost drowned on the way back out, too, come to think of it. I lost track of where I was an' how long I'd been there. But - you know. Don't worry about it.
[He feels compelled to add that at the end. He's not looking for pity or sympathy or anything like it, but she asked.]
[She stops herself there, and instead of finishing that thought she just shrugs her shoulders. He doesn't want to make a big deal out of it, and she can do that for him.]
Well, we can worry about each other now. It's okay.
[Which seems like a good compromise, as well as a genuine assertion for the relationship they've fallen into. They haven't talked about it, but she knows there's a connection there. He wouldn't have gone through all of that, wouldn't have fought so hard for her, if he didn't feel something for her. And because of that, she feels an ache in her chest at the thought of him going through something so awful.
He doesn't want her pity though. She knows him well enough to know that. Her fingertips still gently brush along that scar to his face though, not shying away from showing him that it doesn't bother her. ]
We'll take care of each other too.
[The words are a promise, as she reaches over to grab the little bottle of shampoo that the motel has left in the tub for them. She starts to work her soap covered hands through his hair at that, making sure to take care of him before worrying about herself.]
Some part of him is still a little freaked out by how quickly things have happened. But, hell, maybe they're really just that good a fit for each other. Nothing wrong with that. And if the future changes, it changes. That's fine too. For now he relaxes as her fingers massage his scalp and closes his eyes. She does take care of him well.]
Told ya I got your back. Glad you've got mine, too. You can be downright ferocious when you set your mind to it.
[Or if not ferocious then very determined, but "ferocious" sounds cooler. It's how he'd want to be seen if he was in her shoes. She's just a cute little thing with a buried streak of fire in her that had been waiting all this time to burst into life.
He presses a quick kiss to the bridge of her nose, then reaches for that shampoo himself so he can return the favor and scrub his fingers through her hair. There's still bits of otherworldly mud caked in there, and it's satisfying to watch it run out and wash away.]
You'll have to get me a leather jacket soon. I'm almost as tough as you are.
[Which is a joke, obviously. Though she wouldn't mind wearing his jacket every now and then. Maybe she'll put it on later and see how he reacts. For now though, she lets him wash her hair, loving every second of the attention.
It's after she rinses her hair clean that she fishes around for the bar of soap, and works it to a lather so she can carefully scrub his body clean too. She behaves herself and doesn't let her hands wander too much, but she thinks she can't really be blamed for grabbing his butt a little when she gets there.
She's a filthy mess, and almost feels bad for passing the soap over to him. The water has taken care of a lot of the blood and grime she's covered in, and what they don't get off now, a bubble bath will take care of later.]
[Which absolutely does not happen often, obviously - he may not be a perfect driver and he knows he goes too fast to be considered safe by some dumb old fuckers' rules, but he has good reflexes. It's other drivers that suck and can't be trusted.
And maybe, just maybe, he wants to see her in leather. Mm.
Right, cleaning, that's happening. Even exhausted and struggling a little with all that happened, they're also naked in a nice hot shower and she's grabbing at his ass, and he lets out a soft burst of laughter that's almost a giggle. If she's not careful, things might get rowdy in here, and it wouldn't be the worst way to use the last ounce of energy he can muster up for the day. When it comes his turn to scrub her clean, he's less innocent as he goes about it, and once her back is all clean he winds up immediately behind her, his chest to her back, as he runs hands sudsy over her breasts and down her belly.
But he stops short of going farther, mostly so he can wait to see if she's into it or if it's just a little too much right now. After all that happened to them today, he really wants to make her feel good.]
His far from innocent touches do a good job of getting her warmed up, and she can definitely say she's into things as he presses in close and lets his hands wander down lower and lower. When he stops short of where she wants him to touch, there's a slightly frustrated huff. Her fingers curl around his wrist and try to direct his hand down lower.]
You're teasing.
[It's half petulant accusation, and half questioning if he really is teasing her right now.]
[But he's still here, so there's his answer. He gives a little huff of a laugh and nibbles at her earlobe as he dives lower with one hand so he can lazily roll her clit with his thumb. A few kisses to the back of her neck, then, tasting skin and water and soap, as he inches his hand lower to stroke between her legs. His other arm tightens around her, just in case, since sex while standing on solid ground is one thing but on a slippery wet shower floor is another.]
'Course, I can tease you if you want, you know. I can take this nice an' slow.
[His voice is a low purr against the back of her neck. The one advantage to being pretty wiped out is that he's pretty sure he believes what he just said, he can draw this out for her before he starts going absolutely crazy.]
Finding her footing is proving to be a little difficult, but with his hold on her she feels secure. He isn't going to let her fall.
And it looks like he isn't going to have any trouble getting into the mood himself, either. Her teeth bite at her lip as she gives a slow half-nod of her head.]
Do it. [Her voice is low, and sultry enough that it sounds like someone else to her own ears.] I want you to tease me.
[She wants to know what it feels like to really have him drive her crazy before he gives in. It doesn't particularly matter to her that they're standing in the shower. To her, this is absolutely perfect.]
[Now, the test will be to see if he's right or if he'll cave before she does. But he certainly has an abundance of confidence, if not self-control.
Slowly, fingers cupped together, he drags upward away from her opening and firmly over her clit, just to get her wanting. But then his hands move away, both of them, as they run down her sides and over her hips. His nails graze her skin as he pulls them back upward, inch by inch, as he presses slow kisses to the back of her neck and shoulders.
One arm again loops around her waist while the other drifts, caressing her breasts, indulging in the soft skin of her belly, and then ghosts over her clit before giving the gentlest little circles with his fingers, touching but not really pressing at all. And if she seeks more, well, his hand will just have to wander off again, playing across the inside of her thighs instead.
Goddamn but she gets him hard, though. It really doesn't take much. His breathing becomes heavier, too, and his erection is hot against her. But he is going to try his absolute goddamned best to ignore that in favor of focusing entirely on where his hands are and how much she needs his touch, which he just won't quite give enough of.]
Johnnie is perfectly capable of teasing, and he's incredibly good at doing it. He has Chrissy writhing and squirming against him, whining and making needy sounds as he touches her everywhere but where she's the most sensitive. Every time it seems like he's giving in and directs his attention to her nipples or her clit, the touch is fleeting and too light to do much more than make her try to angle her body more firmly against him.
In the process, she at least winds up grinding her ass against his hardening cock. She can feel him hard behind her, but she doesn't reach behind her to touch him. Not when he has her backside to grind against if he wants or needs to. He seems to be able to ignore it for now, ghosting his touch along her body in a way that's winding her up.
Eventually she's wet and wanting, nipples hardened to such stiff peaks even the water against them feels like it's too much.]
Don't ... [She gasps out the word, hand slipping up to grab hold of the side of his hair. Her palm presses against his head as she does, and she uses her hold on him to try and direct his mouth to that spot on her neck that drives her wild.]
Don't you want me to touch you too?
[That's mostly a rhetorical question. She in no way wants him to stop, even as her footing slips a little as she shifts against him.]
[But he pauses as she moves his head, and he obliges, sucking and teasing at her neck where she wants him with his lips, teeth, and tongue. Look, she can have that all she wants. He'd be real impressed with himself if he'd gotten her so needy that she'd actually come just from his mouth all the way up here.]
-but you'll get your turn.
[And that's a promise. Pretty soon here, too, because he's at his limit for what he can handle before he needs her, and it sure seems like she's reached that limit herself. Slowly, touch by touch, he starts giving her more of what she really wants. His fingertips grind more firmly against her clit while still keeping her tight against him, and he reaches down with his other hand to feel all that slick wetness between her legs as he curls fingers into her.
Now, he could get her off with his hands, but it's too tempting not to. They are both dead. So he turns Chrissy to face the shower wall, lets her brace herself against it, then pulls her hips downward as he presses himself inside her. And fuck, she's so wet for him, there's no reason to waste much time letting her adjust, he can tell she's ready. With one hand still on her clit and the other arm curled strong around her ribs, he thrusts into her with a firm, steady pace so he can finish what he started.
And he might snicker once or twice at the slap of his hips against hers in all that running water, but don't mind him too much. She's goddamn hot even if sex is kinda funny too.]
And maybe she starts to slam back against him as she really gets into it, making that sound of wet skin on skin even louder. His slight laughter pulls out some of her own, and she delights in the fact they can be light even in the middle of something that's so consuming and toe-curling good.
As they set a hard, claiming pace, she finds herself reaching back to grab at his hip. They move together fluidly, seeming to ignore the fact that water is pouring down over the both of them. And her feet do slip every now and then, but his arm around her holds her tight against him. He gives her absolutely no purchase, and she loves it. After everything they've been through together today, this is exactly what they both need to remind one another they're alive in their own way.
They may be dead, but they're not dead. They're right here, and in that moment they belong to no one but one another.]
Come for me, Chrissy. I wanna feel you-
[Wants that pulse, that unbelievable pressure. Whether she does or doesn't, he's about to hit that peak himself. His breath is hot against her, mixed with the steam of the shower, and he adjusts his arm around her so as to really keep her clutched tight to him as their movement together nearly makes him lose his grip. Fuck, she's so good to him. Makes him lose his goddamned mind just having her to himself.
Finally he's sent over the edge with a gasp as something nearly electric races through him, and he works her clit to try and bring her along with him too. His knees tremble, and he's grateful she's helping to support them both, because honestly it's nearly enough to make him drop to his knees. He really is worn out, but these last several minutes were more than worth it anyway.]
Her breathing is fast and heavy, and she keeps her hands braced against the tile as she continues to rock her hips and ride out her peak. She feels amazing, and he feels even better buried deep within her the way he is. Her thighs are trembling with the effort to stay upright, even as he keeps her held flush against him.
The hand that's been grabbing hold of his hip moves upward, cradling his head while they pant and tremble and come down off their highs together. Her lips part as she tries to talk, to say anything to him. But words are still not a thing she can form right now, so she just leans forward to rest her forehead against the wall.
Her hand flops downward to mess with the faucet, and she gets the water turned off. Then it's just the sound of their breathing filling the room, the water no longer drowning out all other noise.]
You feel so good.
[What she meant to make was that he makes her feel so good. But saying he feels good is just as important, she thinks.]
Mm. You too, babe.
[But while compliments are nice and all, she probably wants to be let up, and so he pulls away from her, then staggers his way toward the towels, smiling the whole way. He holds one out to her, then gets to drying himself off. His hair when wet does something ridiculous and spiky that makes him laugh tiredly, so he leaves it as is for the moment.]
Fuck me. What a day, huh? Might actually sleep through the whole night this time.
They've really been through a lot together in the past few days. It's brought them together in unexpected ways.]
I'm so tired it feels like I could sleep for two days straight.
[The towel is wrapped around herself before she stretches her arms out over her head, and turns from side to side in a way that pops her back. Her eyes look over to him as she does, and the sight of his hair makes her laugh. She's unable to resist going over and running her fingers through the spiky strands, trying to make them stand further on edge.]
Are you hungry? I can order us a pizza or something.
[Or try to. You know, since maybe the person on the other end may not be able to hear her. But it's worth a shot, if he's feeling like he wants something to eat.]