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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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."

If this felt surreal before, it sure as hell doesn't now, the way Beth presses her hand against him grounding him immediately in the present moment. He's done this sort of thing countless times before, so it's not like it's anything new. For that matter, he's not crazy; he knows this doesn't mean anything, not in the way it would have when they were still together, and he doubts he'd be all that interested if it did. Still, the fact that it's Beth here in his lap is significant in its own right, all of this as big a deal as it is not one. Besides, he's finding his footing with her, not sure what she likes or doesn't like or how she wants to do this. She's obviously got more experience now than she did when they were together — that just stands to reason, and he'd have been crazy to expect otherwise, even if he'd also rather not think too much about that — and he can't just take that for granted.

"Yeah," he says, an exhale of a laugh against her mouth, a little breathless as he leans in to kiss her again. They should get on the bed fully, and, for that matter, get rid of the rest of their clothes, but just for the moment, it's difficult to move away from her, her skin warm against his and under his palm where it's settled on her breast, her hand down his jeans. "You can say that again."

"You," she says breathlessly against his mouth, caught up somewhere in between kissing him and getting her hand all the way into his jeans, into his boxers, past the material covering him because she wants to actually feel him.

Not all that long ago, she would have been scared. She would have been nervous, reluctant and hesitant, wanting to touch and yet too frightened to go through with it. Now, though, she knows what it feels like to hold someone in her hand like that and the thought of it being someone else, of it being Chuck sends a thrill of anticipation down her spine.

"You," she tries again, but she's still kissing him and it's hard to do anything but use both her hands now, tugging his jeans open the rest of the way, pushing the material down, and then one hand is wrapping around his cock and she stills for a moment, breathing against his mouth. "You feel so good."

Chuck, too, is too focused on kissing her to spare all that much thought for trying to say anything, breath catching in his throat when her hand wraps around him. Likewise more important is trying to figure out how best to move without moving away, something he's that much less inclined to do at the moment. He can, at least, shift enough to get his jeans past his hips, working his way out of them completely so he can kick them aside. All they're doing now is getting in the way, and this might not be anything outside of the ordinary for him, but that doesn't make him any less eager for more.

"Fuck, Beth," he finally says, that same trace of a laugh in his voice, his free hand sliding up her back, into her hair. "Feel better once we're not just sitting here."

She laughs a little, amazed this is even happening, feeling the heat of Chuck's thighs even through her own jeans and she knows he's got a point, this will all be even better once they really get into the bed, once they get the rest of their clothes off, but she's reluctant to slide off his lap. He's warm and hard and she leans into the hand he has in her hair. She likes how that feels and the shiver that runs down her spine is impossible to hide, not that she bothers, that she even wants to try. She wants Chuck to know how she feels, so much she's enjoying this.

For such a long time she'd thought sex was something to be ashamed of, not something to be celebrated, and now she has no idea how she's ever thought it. Not when it feels so nice.

And even though she doesn't want to get off him, she reluctantly slips off his lap and onto the bed, still facing him, pushing herself back onto the bed and toward the pillows. Biting her bottom lip, she glances down at her own jeans, her gaze drifting to the button and fly, a fairly clear invitation of what she wants of him.

It just about speaks for itself, the way Beth's gaze moves down to her jeans once she's lying back on the bed. Even if it weren't for that, Chuck wouldn't waste any time in pulling himself up onto the bed fully so he can settle over her. With his weight on one hand, he kisses her, the other reaching between them to undo the button of her jeans. This part, really, is familiar, routine, no matter who he's with, but that doesn't mean he isn't going to take his time and enjoy it. Beth deserves that, and there's no reason to hurry. Maybe what they're doing isn't under the same circumstances it would have been if they'd gone to bed together while they were still dating, but that doesn't mean he wants to make too little of it.

Head ducking so he can press his lips to her jaw, then her neck, he moves lower over her, absently trailing kisses down over her collarbone and between her breasts, the flat plane of her abdomen, and once he's reached the waist of her jeans, he finally tugs the zipper down, shifting enough that he can take them off her without getting tangled in the fabric. A mishap like that now might kill the mood a little, and that wouldn't be helpful for either of them.

The thought occurs to her suddenly that Chuck's weight is on her, that he's very nearly naked, and a deep shudder goes through her at the realization, as if she hasn't been the one undressing him. He's not a small man, heavier than she would have thought, and she likes that, the idea of him on top of her, pressing her into the mattress, the strength in his body that she'd honestly had no idea of before. It had always been an abstract, because of course he would be strong, but now as she lifts her hands and runs them over his shoulders and down his arms as he presses his mouth to her skin, she can really understand it.

"Chuck," she breathes, lifting her hips to make it easier for him to tug her jeans down and then off, leaving her in a simple pair of cotton underwear. She's never really bothered with anything fancy, not after having lived on a farm for so long, but she's suddenly glad she's wearing the cute purple pair instead of her plain old white ones.

She's torn right now, between wanting more of his mouth on her and wanting to touch him, wanting to get her hands on him, maybe even wanting to use her mouth on him and even the thought makes her squirm with pleasure, pressing her thighs tight together.

Only once he's gotten her jeans off, leaving Beth as close to naked as he is himself, does Chuck realize that he hasn't exactly thought this through. All of this, he's given more consideration than he has with most of the other women he's been with, because she's Beth and because when they were together, they never did anything more than kiss, but that doesn't mean he's working with a plan, just instinct. And for as second-nature as a lot of this might be, instinct doesn't help him make up his mind when there are about a dozen things he wants to do, and when he doesn't know if he'll get another chance to. She's beautiful, slight under him, though he knows deceptively so, and this opportunity isn't one he wants to waste.

Finally, he shifts back up over her to kiss her again, hips rolling instinctively against hers. When she clearly hasn't had a problem with any of this so far, it doesn't occur to him to be self-conscious, either, just to keep kissing her, one hand supporting his weight on the mattress, the other sliding over her ribs and waist to her hip, fingers snagging briefly against fabric on their way. He's never seen her like this, never touched her like this, and he wants to learn every inch of her now that he can.

For a second it's like he's just looking at her and Beth can feel a flush creeping over her body, starting on her chest and rising to her cheeks. It isn't bad, though, she likes the way he's looking at her and she squirms slightly on the bed, squeezing her thighs together before her legs spread without thought, welcoming his weight between them. She arches up to meet his kiss, eager for his mouth, her tongue flicking out cautiously at first, testing the press of his lips, the taste of him.

And then he rolls his hips and a soft breath sort of stutters out of her, her eyes fluttering open for just a moment before she's kissing him again. She wants that. She wants him, wants to feel him inside her, and she counts back, half out of her mind already, trying to figure out how long it's been, if it's going to hurt at all, and she decides she doesn't care. She's always sort of liked when it's hurt just a little.

She twists, trying to help him with her underwear, the toes of one foot dragging up the back of his calf as her hands roam his shoulders and his back, sliding down and then over his ass.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject