a_littlefaith | August 12

August 12

It's been over two months since she realized she was dead. Almost eight weeks since Daryl disappeared. A little over four weeks since he had come back and she'd realized he was another person entirely, not the man she had been set to marry. It's a lot to have happen to anyone in a two month period and for a time she'd felt completely lost, faltering in a way she hadn't liked. It had just seemed easier to crawl into bed and pull the blankets over her head so she wouldn't have to face the world or maybe to take after her father and drink herself into a state where she wouldn't have to care about any of it.

In the end, it's Maggie's example she'd decided to follow. One morning about two weeks ago, she had taken off the moonstone ring Daryl had given her, taken it off for good, and placed it back in the box it had come in. Then she had carefully, lovingly tucked the box in the drawer beside her bed and closed it away. It's what Maggie would have done. It isn't giving up, because Maggie never would have done that, but it's accepting the reality of what is instead of what used to be. Nothing she can do will change the Daryl who's here into the Daryl who left, she has to accept that.

Her sister would have told Beth to look after herself, not to forget about her own needs, so she'd put the ring away, knowing it's the fairest thing she can do for herself and for Daryl. Until she can talk to him about what they used to be, having that reminder of what had come before doesn't do anyone any good. So she takes the ring off and she tries to get back to normal.

Friday night rolls around and she has a gig at a small bar, about thirty minutes worth of material she's written in the past several months. None of the songs are about Daryl, she's been very careful about that, but she likes what she's written. Maybe some of this pain is worth it if it gives her good song writing material. When she sings she feels a little less childlike, a little more like an adult, and she has to wonder how much these past few months have forced her into growing up.

It's scary to think she hadn't felt this much like an adult before and it's sad to think that's what pain does to a person.

But she's smiling by the time she wraps up and her heart feels lighter than it has in some time. Her curls are clinging to her cheeks and her forehead and the back of her neck, the bar hot and damp, the night air warmer still, and as she heads away from the bar -- maybe she'll go home or maybe it's time for a weekend visit to one of her friends -- she finds she actually feels good. Not better, not normal, but good.

[I set it up to let people find her in a variety of places, whatever works best. Out on the street, in the bar where she's playing, at her apartment or their apartment if they'd want her to come visit.]

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He's a good kisser. She'd sort of forgotten that and she has no idea how she would have. He kisses her back and she makes a soft little sound against his mouth, sinking into it, pressing closer, and she thinks this might be easier than she had anticipated. Maybe this is why Maggie had done it when she'd gotten her heart broken in high school, because it was so much easier than anyone expected and it felt good.

For once, she isn't thinking about anything else. She's not thinking about Daryl and what she's going to do when she has to talk to him again. She's not thinking about the things they said to each other or the way she'd felt sick and cowardly when she'd all but run from his apartment. The only thing she's thinking about is Chuck's mouth on hers and the way his muscles feel shifting under his shirt.

The elevator doors slide open and she pulls back, half expecting to find someone staring at them, but they're still alone, and so she smiles, more an invitation than anything.

There's a part of Chuck that can't help wondering if this is a terrible idea, but he does what he can to ignore it. This isn't like before. They know what they're getting into here, the intention clearly enough laid out, and in the event that it winds up not happening, that she changes her mind, he won't feel like he's lost anything. Maybe there's always going to be something strange between them, but it's been a long time now since their relationship ended, and recently he thinks they've found their way back to something resembling friendship. If nothing else, it's enough that they can give this a try without it doing any damage.

When the doors open and she steps back, he smiles down at her, letting him think for nearly the first time since they broke up how beautiful she is. Hell, maybe this will be good for both of them after all.

"Come on," he says, stepping out of the elevator and gesturing down the hall with a tilt of his head, reaching into his pocket for his keys with one hand and taking one of hers with the other. He'd ask if that kiss was alright, if this is, but her smile seems telling enough, and starting something with no strings attached is one thing he knows he's good at.

When he takes her hand, she finds her heart is pounding a little, but it isn't out of fear, she realizes that right away. More than anything else, she's excited. Maybe a little nervous, because she's never done something like this before and she isn't sure how it works or what she needs to do, but she thinks Chuck is willing to help walk her through that. He doesn't seem to think she's being stupid or that they need to stop. If he hadn't wanted to do this, he would have said as much. He wouldn't be leading her down the hall, holding her hand.

Once they get inside, she's halfway through shrugging off her guitar case when she realizes the living room is strewn with someone's things. Clothes and bags, all of it belonging to a woman, and she looks over at Chuck with a little grin at the corners of her mouth.

"Got a roommate?" she asks, but it doesn't matter. She puts her guitar case aside, then moves back toward Chuck, her arms slipping around his waist and pressing herself close to him.

He's been focused enough on Beth, bringing her back here, kissing her in the elevator, that he hadn't even stopped to think about Sally so obviously being here and how that might seem. For a moment, walking inside, Chuck is poised to explain before Beth even says anything — which is stupid, really, when they've discussed what this is and it isn't like he'd have had any reason not to be with someone else — but then she moves in close, not seeming to mind, and it's a relief. He doesn't have any expectations here, and if it doesn't work out, then it doesn't work out, but he wouldn't want it to be over something like this.

"Friend of mine got kicked out of her place," he explains, smiling down at Beth, clearly more interested in her than the state of his living room. "I'm letting her stay here a while." It is a good thing, he thinks, that Sally isn't around now, but that's all the more reason not to linger in the living room. Instead, he leans down to kiss Beth again, briefly this time. "I don't think we need to stay out here, do you?"

When he says it like that, so forthright, it sends a little shiver down Beth's spine, and she almost can't quite believe she's really doing this. A year ago she would have thought this silly, maybe even reckless, but suddenly she feels like she understands. It's so important for her to realize right now that she can be someone else, someone besides the person who was -- and still is, she knows -- in love with Daryl.

She gets to decide things now. She's strong enough to be on her own and do whatever she wants.

"No," she says. "I don't think we do either." And even though they dated, she's never been in Chuck's bedroom before. He'd always been so good with her, not pushing her further than she was comfortable, but things have changed. Everything has changed. She's never been in there, but that doesn't mean she doesn't know where it is and so she starts down the hall ahead of him, flashing a grin over her shoulder.

Following along after her, Chuck can't help returning Beth's smile, huffing out a quiet laugh as he does. The way things are now, the way they've been these past few minutes, already seems like a far cry from when they were dating, but a lot has happened since then. That's probably for the best, anyway, he thinks. He wouldn't want it to be too much like before, when what they're doing in the first place is something else entirely. There are others he's done this sort of thing with, but not Beth. Maybe that means they'll both have to find their footing, figure this out, but it seems likely enough that they'll manage.

His own room is a far cry from the living room, everything neat and sparse, all but empty. Some old habits really do die hard, and growing up in the military, being shuffled between Shatterdomes, there hadn't been much room or need for anything else, and that hasn't changed here. Inside, the door closed behind them in case Sally does turn up at some point, he stops for a moment, just looking at her. "Well, this isn't how I expected today to go."

"No," she agrees with a breathless little laugh. "Me neither."

And absurdly, she sort of wants to thank him. For making it easy, for being exactly who he is, for not expecting anything of her when they had been dating, for being able to be for her now. The road they've taken to get here is long and weird and complicated, but it's worked out somehow and for that she's grateful.

Instead she figures she'll just do her best to make this good for him. Maybe she's only ever been with Daryl, but she never heard a single complaint from him and she isn't interested in feeling insecure now. This is going to be fun for them. She's not going to allow herself to worry it might not be.

Coming up close to him again, she slips her arms around his waist, rising onto her toes, pushing up into another kiss.

It's a little easier this time, letting himself kiss her and not second-guess it, confident that this is what they both want. He still doesn't want to push her, doesn't want to go too far too fast when they've never done this before, wants to make sure she has every opportunity to put a stop to this if she decides to. She seems sure, though, her arms around his waist and her mouth on his, and he sure as hell can't protest. Instead, he draws her just a little closer, one hand at the small of her back, the other resting on her jaw with about as much gentleness as he's capable of. That's never been his strongest suit, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it seems safer when he doesn't know what she wants from this or what she likes.

He supposes that's something he'll figure out pretty soon.

In the meantime, it's enough just to kiss her. He can't remember the last time he did — at the time, he hadn't known it would be the last time — and that, too, is something that's probably for the best. The more he can keep their history out of his head, the better off they'll be.

He always was good at this. She remember at the time, before everything had changed, she'd allowed herself to think what it might be like to sleep with him. At the time she'd also thought she was going to wait until she got married, but she had still wondered what it might be like. When they would kiss, when they would make out, it always felt so good, and she's changed so much from the person she was at that time that she wonders if Chuck would be surprised by the things she's done.

Probably he would be, she decides. Not that it matters right now. The only thing that matters right now is what they both want.

Her hands slide down his back, down toward the hem of his shirt where they slip under the material and spread across his lower back. His skin is warm and she hums softly into his mouth, a sound of pleasure, of approval.

Her hands feel good against his skin, and Chuck leans into the kiss for it, a little more intent, a little more sure. He may still have no idea what he's doing — God, it's hard to when they never did anything more than this when they were dating, and he neither knows nor wants to know the details of her relationship with Daryl — but this much is easy. So, too, surprisingly, is keeping himself in check. He's had a lot of other experience, and usually that's much more to the point. Even if the destination is the same here, though, the circumstances are different, and he can go slow, let her lead.

She always did bring out another side of him. It's really no wonder that the same is true now, even after all this time.

His thumb brushes along her cheekbone, and then his hand moves back, sliding into her hair. Even if she changes her mind, even if they don't get past just kissing, he thinks it still will have been worth it. At least they will have had this, something much better than the way things ended between them before.

Under her hands, his skin is warm, the shifting of muscles feels good, and she gives another soft little moan, pushing up higher on her toes, pushing her body against his. She knows why she's here, what she wants, she knows what he's willing to give to her and she slips her hands around from his back, fingers spreading across his abdomen, feeling the tight shift of muscles here, too. She's only ever been with one other person and she knows she shouldn't compare, but a little part of her can't seem to help it. Chuck just feels different than Daryl, different in a way she wants so badly now that it's here, being presented, and she pushes his shirt up a little, not impatiently, but enough so that she can get at more of his skin.

Her fingers curve under just slightly and she keeps her nails short, but they still scratch lightly against his stomach.

She doesn't want to get ahead of herself, but she thinks about his hands on her skin like hers are on him now and it makes her shiver pleasurably.

Chuck draws in a breath through his teeth when he feels Beth's nails against his skin, then exhales in a quiet laugh against her mouth, emboldened slightly by the way she moves, the hand he's had at her back sliding down to her ass, still holding her close. Going slow has never really been his style, but here with her, it makes the most sense to let her set the pace, to figure out how this is going to go. God, does he want to touch her, though, eager to let his hands move over her body, to feel her skin under his palms. They never went very far when they were dating and he was fine with that, but it's not like he didn't think about it at the time. He pushed all of that aside for a time because he needed to, not wanting to dwell on her after they broke up, but it all comes back now.

Though he'd told her that he hadn't been expecting this today, it goes far beyond that. This isn't a chance he was supposed to have gotten at all.

It takes most of her focus to actually break the kiss and she looks up at him for a second, a grin at the corners of her mouth before she draws her hands out from under his shirt and unzips the little sweater she's wearing over her tank top. She shakes it off, leaving it on the floor, then presses close to him again.

"You always were real good at this," she teases breathlessly, then presses up to kiss him again.

She's braver than she used to be. In the time since they dated, she's learned a lot about what to do, how to move, what she likes and how to ask what someone else likes. Maybe she's never going to be an expert, but she thinks she knows what she's doing here, at least to the extent they'll both have a good time, and so her hands creep under Chuck's shirt again, pushing it up now, up and out of the way.

It isn't exactly an easy thing, trying to get out of his shirt when he doesn't want to take his hands off Beth or stop kissing her, but he does so as best he can, taking it one arm at a time, until his t-shirt is bunched around his neck, his mouth still on hers. He wants to say that she was always good at this, too, but at the same time, it's different now. She seems more confident, more practiced, and maybe he doesn't want to think about why that's the case, but he can't say he minds it. It's a good thing if this isn't too much like before.

Finally, reluctantly, he draws back from kissing her again, tugging his shirt overhead and dropping it on the floor, his hands smoothing down her arms once he has. "I'm good at other things, too," he says, his voice low. There may not be many things fitting that description, but he's good in a fight and he's good in bed, and right now, it's only the latter that's important.

She laughs at that, low and delighted, a little surprised by how aroused she is by this. Maybe she shouldn't be, it's Chuck, after all, she's found him attractive since the moment she met him and even though things have been rough for awhile, she trusts him, too. There might not be any good reason for him to trust her in return, but he has hers. Completely.

And there's something a little exciting in meaning what she'd said earlier. She doesn't expect anything of him after this, she isn't looking for romance and dates and a relationship. Right now, that's the last thing she needs, and she trusts him to understand that, too.

"Jeez," she murmurs, running her hands down his chest, over his stomach, fingers hooking in the waist of his pants. "Look at you." It's not that big a surprise either, she's felt his body through his clothes before, but this is different. This is much better.

It's strange, somehow, to think that this is already further than they've ever gone before. Chuck has been with plenty of people before, including in the time since he and Beth broke up, but she's still the only person he's ever been in an actual relationship, the only one with whom doing anything like this wasn't a foregone conclusion or the point entirely. It had been worth it. Even now, he cares about her more than he probably should — not enough to get in the way now, or to make it something it isn't, but the remnant of something indelible, of her being the first person he dated and the only one to see him the way she did.

They're just easy to keep separate, the way things were before and what they're doing now, especially with her hands on his skin. When her fingers reach the waist of his pants, his own find the hem of her shirt, sliding up under it to rest on the curve of her waist, pushing the fabric up just enough for it to serve as a question. However fast or slow she wants to take this, he's fine with, but that doesn't mean he's just going to do nothing, kissing her again. Looking isn't all he wants her to do.

The only other person who's ever seen her in just her bra is Daryl and she remembers how she'd felt that first time, self conscious about her body, aware she wasn't nearly as well endowed as most women. She feels that little flutter of nerves again, wondering if Chuck is going to care, if he's going to find her suddenly unattractive because her breasts aren't all that big, but she pushes it aside.

It isn't as if she can disguise that through her clothes and she's never tried. It won't come as much of a surprise. So she reaches down and hooks her fingers in the hem of the tank top she's wearing, tugging it up and over her head. For a moment it gets caught on her hair, then she pulls it free, drops it on the floor with her sweater, with Chuck's shirt, and when she presses back against him, she sucks in a breath of air at just how warm he feels against her bare skin.

"Chuck," she murmurs just once before she's kissing him again, a little harder this time.

Chuck barely has a moment to catch his breath before she's kissing him again, though it's hard to object to that, his hands still steady on her waist, holding her close. It's not like he hasn't always known that she's beautiful; she doesn't need to have taken her shirt off for that to be the case. There's a difference, though, between seeing her fully clothed and seeing her like this, especially when he's spent so long not thinking about her. Once, he'd thought this would have happened a long time ago; then, he never figured it would at all. As intent as he is on not getting hung up on that, it's not like he can entirely disregard it, either.

With his mouth still on hers, his hands slide just a little higher, fingers splayed out over her ribs, just barely brushing the bottom of the band of her bra. It's admittedly not easy to keep from moving this too much further now — with anyone else he's been with, it would be easier to, rather than waiting for her to set the pace — but in the meantime, it's enough just to touch her, to keep kissing her.

She can tell he's waiting for her to take the lead, to make sure she's comfortable and it's different in so many ways from what she'd gotten used to with Daryl. They'd learned each other, learned what they like, he'd often pushed her or grabbed her hair, and that's what she had wanted, but she finds this is good, too. This is good for the two of them, for what she wants tonight, and she's a little glad to know he's willing to hand that kind of control over to her.

It's so easy to grin against his mouth, to let her hands fall to the waist of his pants, to tuck her fingers under the material and grip tightly so she can push him back in the direction of his bed. She moves slowly, but her intention is clear, even if she doesn't stop kissing him, and she guides him toward the bed, then pushes down gently, wanting him to sit at the edge.

When they were dating, she'd thought about it, about how much smaller she is than him, but now she gets to take advantage of it, all but crawling into his lap when they're finally at the bed and he's seated, her arms sliding around him, pulling herself as close as she can.

It's a little unexpected, Chuck can't deny that, but he also doesn't have time to think twice before Beth is easing him back towards the bed. Even if he wanted to, there's no way in hell he'd try to stop her anyway. He's wanted to let her take the lead, set the pace, at least for now, until they figure each other out, and that's definitely what she's doing. In a way, there's a strange sort of relief in it. It makes him feel a little less like he needs to be careful here. She clearly knows what she wants, and that's more than fine with him.

The backs of his legs hit the edge of the bed, and he sits instinctively, tugging Beth close as she settles on top of him, his hands smoothing over her skin, one moving between them to cup her breast over her bra. He kisses her a little harder for it, too, a little more sure of himself. It's not like he couldn't have guessed that she'd be more experienced now than when they were together — she was engaged, for God's sake, and he's not fucking stupid — but it's nice to get a sense that he doesn't have to be too careful here.

It feels good, being in his lap like this, the way he's touching her, his hand on her breast, and her body rolls slightly, pressing into his touch, trying to fit her hips closer still to his. It's a little easier now, just listening to her body, letting it do what it wants instead of worrying what he might think, and it isn't only that she's a little more experienced now, but that she isn't as shy in general.

Too much has happened lately for her not to go after the things she wants. A little part of her thinks Maggie would be proud of that.

Her hands smooth over his back, across warm, well muscled skin, and she grins a little again, faintly giddy with the sensation that this is actually something that's happening. It's easy to kiss him, easier still to reach up behind her and unhook her bra, letting gravity take care of it as she shakes one arm free and then the other.

Chuck moves his hand, sliding it down to her waist instead, only long enough to let her bra fall off and push it aside. He reaches for her breast again a moment later, his palm pressed against warm skin this time, thumb brushing her nipple. This part is instinct as much as anything else, the sort of thing he's done countless times, and yet, it's different, too, where Beth is concerned. While he's not about to attach more weight to it than either of them is looking for here, it doesn't feel right just to put her in the same category as other people he's had meaningless sex with. Even when he wanted to act otherwise, she always meant something to him.

It's increasingly easy not to think about things like that, though, with her body pressed against his, his hips shifting slightly against hers, and he lets out a faint groan against her mouth as he leans into the kiss.

In another world, she knows another version of her would put more weight on this than necessary. She would have worried about the decision, worried about what Chuck might be thinking, worried about what would come after, but she feels like she's left that person far behind.

Everything has changed. She has changed and it's so much easier than it would have once been to drag her hands down Chuck's chest between them, her fingertips lighting dancing across his stomach before they fall to his jeans where she carefully undoes the button. She's not in a rush, she wants to enjoy this, but there's a little spark of excitement quivering through her at the thought of seeing someone else.

For the first time, she's doing something new, something she thought she'd never do.

The longer this goes on, the more she does, the easier it is not to second-guess everything, to wonder if they're making a really stupid decision or if they should be taking this slower. He's never really been all that good at slow anyway, though he'd have tried for her, and maybe it is stupid, making it is a mistake, but if so, it's one they clearly both want to make. No matter how this ends up, it can't be any worse than the way things were between them after they broke up, anyway.

Chuck isn't and never has been the apologetic type, and he knows he'd been justified in being angry with her, but some small part of him somewhere in the back of his head knows that he was meaner than she deserved at that New Year's party, little of it though he remembers now.

This isn't the time to think about any of that, though, his breath hitching when she undoes the button of his jeans, one hand still cupping her breast, the other moving down to her ass, holding her close. She's beautiful, and he thinks he should tell her so, but it's easier to keep kissing her.

It feels so good already. There's heat shivering down her spine, pooling low in her belly, lower than that still, and she can feel her cheeks and chest are flushed, pink with pleasure. Although there isn't much she can do from this angle, not when they're both sitting, she still somehow worms her hand between them, and as much as she just wants to roll her hips and press herself down against him, there's something so unexpectedly exciting about sliding her palm over the outline of his length and she almost laughs. Not because it's funny at all, because it isn't. Because she's touching him nearly two years after they had first started dating, after she'd broken up with him, after he'd been so angry with her and she knows she's deserved it, but it doesn't change how funny this all it.

She can't laugh, though, because he feels so good against her palm and her heart is pounding and she can't wait to get her hand on him for real, to feel the weight of him in her palm, to feel the heat, the smoothness of his skin.

"Chuck," she breaths, pressing her palm against him, wanting to create that sort of friction, but wanting to get him completely undressed all at the same time. "Oh my God."

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