Roadtrip: Dining Hall Aftermath

The hand under his sweatpants and against his downy thigh is almost enough to distract his hands from their current task: unhooking the tiny metal class on the back of Noelle's bra. He finds them easily enough under her guiding hand, and the years he's spent handling knives and other precision tools gives him the dexterity needed too move those little metal hooks up and out of the way. Blunt nails don't make it easy, but in a moment, he has the cotton bra loose around the curve of her torso. One gentle movement, and he's pulling the garment off her arms and into his hands to set it neatly in the space between the air mattress and the edge of the van roof.

They're finally even, he thinks wryly even as he looks up at her. Caught it the pale light of the night sky, she luminous. His hands, now unoccupied with anything bracket the space left behind by the bra. They move slow across the expanse of her skin, committing the feeling to memory. The soft shift as her sides slope into her chest, her small breasts and rose tinted nipples, her soft eyes and slender hands, plush lips and fond expression. There's love as she looks back at him, warmth that he can feel even in the evening Autumn chill.

'Perfect,' he thinks.

"Love you too." He says, quiet and just for her.

The cold, autumnal air hits her chest fast and without warning, making her body shake automatically. As Tobi began to slide off her plain, white bra, Noelle smiles ever so softly. She leans back up, watching him watching her. His dark eyes were glinting and his smile could part waves. She is straddling his wide lap, legs stretched and tensed, her knees squeezing again to help her keep balance. Looking at the man below, she thanked whoever could listen. For allowing her to be with someone so caring, so sweet, so incredibly attractive. 

Fingers drift from Tobi's chest, moving back down to his waistband. Both hands hold the edge of the sweatpants, and tug so slightly, pulling them down inch by inch. She knew what she was doing at this point- riling him up, pushing him from a slow burn to a supernova. Teasing him. So that the accumulation would be so much more.

Noelle leans down, her nipples scraping against his own chest, little rosettes etching out her path back to his collarbone, where she kisses and mumbles incoherent words of praise and love and adoration. Her face is nuzzling against his jaw, catching on the rougher skin. Her small, but pert breasts now press against him, finally gaining warmth. Her fingers press into his hips where his sweatpants once lay, and she sighs against him.

But her confidence waivers. She is unsure what do to anymore- this is her first doing anything even remotely like this. So, in between kisses, she utters "Tobi... I'm... I don't know... God, I love you... I love..."

Her thoughts are everywhere and anywhere, expanding outwards. But her hands and lips stay where they are. Noelle hopes he understands.

He chuffs out a small laugh as she tugs slow at the waist of his pants, teasing him. Slow and sweet and torturous, she's got something sly in her eye when they meet his own. SHe's making him wait, stoking the burn that itches under his skin and spreads like wildfire along his nerves. Thick body barely registering the chill, his humming vibrates through his chest as she moves forward to murmur sweet nothings in his ears, quiet like the night. To press kisses against him, to work slender, deft fingers into the muscle of his hips, pressing and finding the bone buried there.

He wants to return the favor, wants to kiss her senseless in the way that she does him. Wants to make her feel like he's feeling, like he's full of starlight. Bright and luminescent, he burns even in the autumn air on top of this metal roof in the flimsiest air mattress. Ink is starting to dry on his skin, but he can't bring himself to mind.

Her words break him from his thoughts. Dark brown eyes still so full of longing look down at him, but her tone is unsure. Stammering, so at odds with the easy way she had toyed with him earlier clues him into the problem when she can't put it into words. His large hands draw her in towards him, suddenly sure in their movement and carried by an easy power. She needs someone to take the lead, he's happy to oblige.

Rough lips catch hers in a deep kiss. It's different from the ones before; where the others had been gentle and exploratory, this one is passionate and purposeful. It's a herald, a signal that he's taking the lead. That he's got her, that all she has to do is trust him. His hands - warm, always warm - wrap behind her neck and tangle in her hair as he loses himself in the kiss. Her straddlin' his bare hips is hitting him in all the right ways while her slow teasing has him worked up to where he's desperate to do something about it. He's flushed and so, so willing. Willing to make this good for her, willing to leave a few dark marks of his own along the pale curve of her skin, willing to draw soft sounds and quiet sighs from the girl on top of him.

"I got you." he says as he breaks with just a hint of teeth against her bottom lip. "You jus' promise t'let me know how yer doin', and I got you. Ai'ght?"

The kiss made white-hot light burn behind her eyes, sparkling and fizzing. Noelle leans into the kiss, relishing the feeling of his large hands catches her hair, tangling it into a mess that matches her hands, her torso, her face. The ink has caked and cracked on her skin, adding even more texture onto both of them. And while she was lost in the feelings, her well of emotions, her hands had stopped welling in ink. Her palms are black, caked in the stuff, but dried. 

But she doesn't notice either. 

She hadn't realized how much she had missed his voice. As much as the sweet nothings of the earth had made her brain buzz and flit, the low timbre and bass echo of his voice was something that comforted her to no end. It reminded her of their first meeting, her first friend. Someone who was unafraid to lead her when she took a chance and skipped the tail end of her orientation. Even then, his voice had comforted her. Allowed her to open up to him, bloom. And now, with his voice vibrating her own bones, she found herself grateful. That he was able to speak to her without pain, without stress. And that it made her tremble.

Heavy-lidded eyes meet dark ones as she listens closely. Teeth graze against her lip, just as she started this. With a timid smile and soft voice "Okay. Okay, I trust you. Completely."

And.

After a moment.

"Thank you."

She was grateful that he had some experience, to guide her into this forbidden world of bliss that she had never been. Noelle looks at him, slowly beginning to relax again, her hands kneading his muscles, threading through thick hair. She stays where she is until he directs her otherwise. But she's close now, kissing, tasting him. She was nervous, yes. But she was ready. And willing. He wanted her. And Noelle was so happy to oblige.

The smile that answers hers is immensely fond. “Darlin, you ain’t need t’thank me for nothin’. Absolutely,” a kiss to her cheek, “Nothin’.”


And it’s true. He’s always been quietly grateful for the blessings in his life. Never asked for a whole lot to begin with, so when something this good enters his life, he’s thankful. Thankful to her, to whatever forces conspired to bring her here to this moment with him. While a lot of the circumstances were shit, this? He looks at her, feels her hands on him, in his hair.


This was good.


This was so immensely, immeasurably good, he thinks as his calloused fingers catch on the hem of her sweatpants. So good, as his lips press reverent, heady kisses wherever he can reach. The night is lost to starlight and galaxies, moans lost to the rustling of the wind and tall grass, needy whimpers and warm hands roaming over soft, pale skin. To swears that mean nothing and sweet nothings that mean everything. The world around them turns but for a moment, they get a chance to stop and simply enjoy the other, every inch of the other.


So good.


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Loud snores break through the sounds of early morning birds.


Tobi sleeps soundly, still very much shirtless and missing his sweatpants. The quilt Jake had tossed up earlier is draped across his lower body. It had fortunately been spared from most of the ink, though little bits of the dried stuff flakes off and into the seams. One heavy arm is draped across Noelle’s sleeping form more tucked under the quilt than he is. Curled around her and in the middle of nowhere, he looks more at peace than ever.

Galaxies have been replaced with the early morning sun and the added warmth it brings. The breeze has quieted into a soft whisper that rolls in time with Tobi’s snores. He’s covered in tiny bruises from Noelle last night, though the girl is a bit worse off. Deep purple covers the girl’s collarbone and farther down; he was careful to leave them all somewhere she could hide.


It’s the best he’s slept in a long while.

Maybe it was the snoring.

Perhaps the bright morning light.

Or her own body's need for little sleep.

But Noelle stirred, curled up into Tobi's arms. The weight, the pressure fell on her as her eyes started to flutter open, her toes and fingers curling up tightly, then relaxing. A soft noise leaves her lips, followed by a yawn. It was an easy awakening. She wasn't in a dorm room or even at home, but there was no worry or fear to figure out where she was. She was safe. And warm. The thick quilt covered her bare body, trapping the heat that rolled off of the man around her.

The memories came back, first in a haze. Noelle began to remember the stars, the kisses, the lingering touches. How one thing had led to another, how they had...

Oh my God.

Noelle felt the familiar feeling of blood rushing to her face which was now a bright red. The once steady heartbeat in her chest flutters, pounding in her ears, in her mind. Phantom kisses lingered on her neck and collarbone and her chest. And the thought rang clear in her mind, supported by her now sore body. What had happened, what they shared together in the dark cover of the night, the stars and the moon illuminating everything they needed to see. How she had whimpered and moaned and clung to him. How attentive he had been.

Tobi.

The name made her heart soar, and for a moment, she sunk into his chest even more. But reality hit. Jake would probably be waking soon, and she could feel that her sweatpants at her toes, could see her bra gently lain down between the mattress and the roof of the car. She needed to put herself together, at least a little bit. Carefully, reluctantly, she wriggled out of his arms and sat up. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes with the heel of her palm before reaching for the white cotton bra. She puts it on with ease, then grabs her nearby glasses, putting them on.

They had made a mess.

Nevermind the tangle of blankets and bodies- the mattress had been stained and caked with, now dried, black ink. Delicate and nonsensical swirls f it traced Tobi's body in patterns far from planned, that matched her own body. The mess that was Tobi's sweatshirt was in a crumpled heap at the foot of the mattress was now something akin to an oil rag that had been used for a monster truck. Mentally, Noelle took stock of the damage, vowing silently to replace everything she had stained. But now was not the time. She reached for her sweatpants and underwear, sliding them on with ease. Then, she turned back to Tobi and her expression softened. 

This man. 

Noelle owed a lot to this man. And she knew he would not accept any of it. But for now, she was going to enjoy his powerful mass. Just as easily as she wriggled out, she trapped herself under his arm again. And while she was awake now, she still enjoyed the pressure. The warmth. The sounds of the morning that corresponded with his breathing. Her stained fingers began to trace patterns on his arm and Noelle leaned up and kisses his jaw, ever so tenderly.

For once, there was nothing profoundly eventful happening around him. Just the quiet lull of the world. He sleeps, finally able to just lay still surrounded by what he loved for the first time in so long. Something catches in his throat and his yawn hiccups; the breeze following his movement shifts and dissipates with the motion. There’s only warmth now: from the sun, from the quilt, from the body next to his. He nearly basks in it, folds himself into the easy heat of the early morning sun on bare skin. It’s been a while.


A while since he’s felt this good. This at ease.


There’s a soft pressure at his jaw and even as sleepy as he is, he knows who that is. His lady kisses soft at his jaw, traces patterns in his skin. Skin that was feeling remarkably… remarkably something. Like there’s an ease there that he hasn’t experienced for a little while, like a spring that had been pressed tight and held there was allowed release. His consciousness is drawn forward by her touch to drag him gently into semi-wakefulness. Eyes still closed, he leans into her and tries to pull her into him. Sleep weak arms fail to listen though, and instead rest heavier in the slope of her side. He doesn’t seem to mind and instead smiles a sleepy grin at her. It’s small, it’s lopsided, and so, so genuine.


In the grey area between sleep and awake, he’s brutally honest. The smile is his assessment, the drowsy happy noises he makes his argument for staying right where he is.


But, he’s sliding perilously close to waking. His body tenses as he rolls through a long yawn and stretch. Toes curl as he works through them, bones pop as their pulled into place, muscles burn with the brilliant aching reminder of last night. Finally, he opens his eyes just a crack to look at the woman in front of him. Noelle. God, Noelle. The things she did to him, he swears. Beautiful, brilliant Noelle.

Noelle and her worries and her insecurities. Her quick mind and sharp tongue. Her soft curves and sharp angles. Her long hair, her talent, her personality. Every aspect of her rolled together to create the vision he sees in front of him now, the one tracing his skin in fractal patterns and planting featherlight kisses along his jaw, trying her best not to wake him up. She was amazing, incredible, everything.

“Mornin’ darlin.” He rumbles soft and sluggish. There’s love there, like there always has been. Warmth, like the sun above.


But.


There’s a difference too. His eyes, black since the day before and even further back, are back to what they had been before all this mess. He looks at her with the same eyes he had when they first met, with the same tan skin he had when she had first run into him. There are no lines there, nothing to even indicate that they had been there near constantly since the day before.

Well, one indicator. He winces as the most massive migraine he’s had in a long while comes roaring through his mind, crashing torrential against the side of his skull.

“Aw he--.” He swears, blinking back the sudden pressure behind his head. With the weight of the migraine comes the knowledge of the reality that he’s in. The lawyer, the events of the previous day, the rising tensions on campus. Every facet of his life comes crashing back in with clarity and while he was so pleased to have shared that night with Noelle and to have gone on this trip with them, he had almost forgotten about what waits for them back on campus.

The nerves that had lain dormant for just a moment flicker to life in the same way old fluorescent lights stutter step when you turn them on. When he opens his lids again, they’re black as pitch. Only the grey iris gives away his focus. The migraine’s gone, but so are his words.


‘Eh. Could be worse,’ he thinks as he leans in to catch Noelle’s lips in an early morning kiss. There’s a smile in the way he kisses her and the way his hands are tracing light across her still bare skin. That sleepy happiness is still there in the space they’ve carved out on top of this van and underneath this quilt.

Noelle freezes as he wakes up, the lazy arm around her drawing her close into him. Her lips linger on his jaw, but slowly remove themselves as he does his big morning stretch. As he moved, due to her closeness, Noelle moved with him, stretching with him. But she doesn't meet his eyes until he speaks, his voice vibrating and reverberating into her spine, shaking her in the most pleasant way. She turns to him, biting back a smile.

It was so easy to get lost in the moment, to focus on him and forget everything else. Not only because of the delightful ache that accompanied the memories from the night before but because Tobi looked like... himself. No bright lines etching his nerves. No black sclera. Just Tobi, the friendly RA who she had bumped into and who had comforted her. Made her feel like she belonged to something. Safe. Secure.

She opened her mouth to respond, but his face twisted in pain. She had seen that expression before- in the Library, in the dining hall. He was in immense agony due to a migraine. She was about to remove herself (Noelle had finally realized how sensitive his sense become), but she froze again as his nerves flicker back, his eyes opening to reveal the darkness. She didn't feel upset or disappointed, but she did feel a drop in her stomach. It reminded her of their situation. Of how they were going back today. To all of the chaos. The night before didn't change that fact. But, his lips meet hers, and she melts.

Her hands raise and weave themselves through his hair, as she returns the kiss with fervor. When they break, she places her head in the crook of his shoulder and neck, finally speaking "Hey, you... How are you feeling?"

Pulling herself up, Noelle twists herself so she is still facing to face with the man, her hand still swirling patterns into his hair.
___________________________________-
Jake had slept soundly.

He forced himself too. He put in his headphones and listened to the loudest acoustic music he could find, He fell asleep before the nonsense above him started, but he knew it was coming. Those two chickadees were making eyes at each other all night and Jake knew that, if he wanted a piece of mind, he needed to fall asleep quick. So, he closed the trunk, put on his headphones, stuffed his face into his pillow and fell asleep. And whether it was just the exhaustion from the past couple of days finally coming together or sheer force of will to avoid awkward situations, he slept through the night.

He felt gross. Not only because he hadn't showered or brushed his teeth, but the lingering guilt from Trevor's situation leaked into his bones. And the fact that he had to go back today and worry about it made his skin crawl. And he needed to distract himself. Pronto.

So, Jake McKinley sits up, scratching his head frantically and apelike, before folding up blankets, putting drinks away, cleaning up snacks. He hears the ceiling above him creak and shift, giving him notice that the couple had stirred. Muffled voices told him that they were awake. He can't help but smile as he finishes up straightening the back seat out. Silently, he decides to give them five minutes. Then they had to get ready to leave.

As much as he didn't want to.