rosarianoath

Yes.

[It felt impossible to mention then, and it’s still hard now, but he’s sure it’s now obvious to her how far it goes.]

I didn’t want to—-

[Ashley pulls back off her partner’s cock with an exaggerated popping sound and moans loudly: “I want you to come in my ass!”]

[Ashley. Jill looks at the screen as if she might tell her to be quiet.

She really hopes she doesn't sound like that.

Anyway.]

Didn't want to...?

[Ashley's partner lifts her up--with less ease than Clive's lifted Jill, she notes--and moves her to the bed.]

[Attention still on Ashley:]

I didn't want to make you feel obligated to that in any way.

Nothing with you ever felt like an obligation. I was always...

[Grateful? She takes a moment to settle on the right words.]

It felt like a gift. It made me happy. Of all the people in the world, I was able to share those moments with you.

[He sighs, grip on her shifting to squeeze tighter for a brief moment.]

We had something beautiful, at least for a time.

[It didn't have to end, she wants to tell him. But he would only get upset. She doesn't want to lose the warmth of him against her back.]

We did.

[Though now it hurts to think about.]

I'm... simply glad to be friends, still.

[Friends with benefits. That love one another and live together but aren't together.]

[Clive falls quiet for a brief moment, wondering why he's here. Do friends do this? He wonders why she beckoned and why he came running despite the pit in his stomach. They'd slept together again and not spoken of it. That's hardly unusual for them, but now it feels like a misstep.

Still:]

I'm glad too.

[Oh my god you're so BIG! Ashley exclaims as her partner bends her over and presses his cock to her asshole.

Jill breathes out a strained laugh. Mostly at the screen. Somewhat at Clive.]

This is silly.

Very much so.

[At the very least, he's glad to hear her laugh. He remarks:]

Do we sound like that, when we make love?

I was going to ask you that very same question. And if we do, do we wish to know?

[She laces her fingers with his and squeezes his hand.]

I think I would perish.

[He never wants to hear or see himself fuck. He momentarily ducks his head against hers.]

This film is insufferable, to be honest.

[She laughs, squeezing his hand again.]

Let's turn it off. I think I've seen enough, anyway.

[He hums his agreement and pulls his hand from hers to grope for the remote, which he uses to turn the television off. The living room is plunged into darkness, and Clive just sighs, laying his head back down against hers.]

Thank you for humoring me.

[Whenever she feels like getting up, she'll make sure the DVD ends up back in its case and back in his possession. A memento it shall be.]

And for what it's worth, you don't sound like that at all.

I'm happy to.

[The latter statement just gets a little huff of amusement, fluffing the hair tucked behind her ear. He closes his eyes. He ought not fall asleep here; sleeping together without being under some foreign influence seems particularly unwise. He's not even sure if he should return his hand to her, or if the moment is broken. He settles it politely on her hip.

Still, he wishes he was touching her bare skin, and not the thin cotton of her nightgown.]

We ought to go to bed before we fall asleep like this.

What if we did?

[Sleep isn't necessarily what she had in mind, but she's happy to be in his arms.]

Then I'll wake in a mood when my shoulder is sore and my arm asleep.

[He is too big for this couch, Jill, especially sharing it.]

[That sounds like a Clive problem to her.]

Will you invite me to your bed, then?

[Clive waits a beat, and he can't say yes, but he doesn't want to say no –– he closes his eyes, and just replies, troubled:]

Jill.

... or not.

[She knows that tone, and she's immediately disappointed. And embarrassed. She moves to get up.]

Forgive me. I shouldn't have said that.

[He's reluctant to let her go, but it's not fair to stop her. He removes his hand.]

Please –– I am not scolding you. There's nothing to forgive.

Then what?

[She sits up. It's difficult to fit her ass on the sliver of couch left to her.]

[He sits up too, just enough to rest his weight on an elbow. He doesn't have a real answer for a beat.]

Are we capable of doing this without hurting ourselves?

[She shifts enough to look at him, frowning. Either way, they hurt. It's inevitable. She knows that.]

Tell me what you want.

[It wasn't just Ifrit's desire fanning the flames that night. She knows it.]

If this is that terrible for us, tell me now, and I'll never ask to share your bed again.

[She could not be sharper with a rapier in her hand. Clive peers at her through the dark, the dim streetlight bleeding through the windows highlighting the side of her face.]

I don't think that's fair.

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