ikissdhimbck | OOM: Room #100 -- for Tommy Gavin

He notices the way her eyes move, either studying his features or searching for something hidden among them. It's not the first time she's looked at him like that, but sometimes he wonders why she does it. Maybe she just likes his face. It could happen.

And while her smile is always a reassurance, what she says actually makes him feel...good. That she still wants him around. That she prefers to have him around.

He kisses her, first a peck at the corner of her mouth, then a lingering one full on the lips.

"Except for that doctor, 'cause technically you're seein' him, too."

Smirk.

She's a little thrown off by the sweetness of his kiss, missing the joke entirely and assuming he misunderstood her. Her brow furrows in confusion.

"Well, I s'pose it's similar. Y'both make me feel vulnerable, an' y'both require a big leap'a faith, but — y'know I took the biggest chance on you that I've ever taken."

It's half question, half statement. After all the fighting they did to get back together, he should know. Seeing Dr. Lecter is a piece of cake compared to seeing Tommy. This may be just another tryst to him, but it's so very different for her.

"An' I'm not — I'm not intimate with Dr. Lecter, Tommy."

Tommy blinks, gaping a little. Something seems to have been lost in translation.

"No, honey, I meant-- I didn't mean--"

Exhaling a breath, he presses his forehead to hers for a moment, then pulls back again to look at her.

"I was joking. Like, you're seein' a doctor-- like how people go see a doctor, like they do. And then you're seein' me, we're seein' each other, 'cause we're in this relationship. It's two different kinds of 'seeing.' You see what I-- it was a-- sorry, it wasn't the best-- sorry."

A pause.

"And I never meant to say you were involved with that doctor, I was just goin' with the whole-- 'seeing' thing."

She keeps her eyes open even when he leans his forehead against hers, honestly a little confused.

"Oh."

She beetles her brow. No, it's certain to her now that he did misunderstand what she was saying, if that's what he meant. It's not all that vital she correct him, though. Whatever he thought obviously didn't upset him, and at this point what's one more secret between them?

"I was jus' makin' sure."

She pinches his chin, lips quirking a soft smile.

"Y'want me t'keep readin'?"

At her response, he's not sure if they'd both got their lines crossed or what, but he can't find a point to start picking it apart. Does it really matter anyway? When she pinches his chin, like a schoolteacher favoring a student, he figures it doesn't.

He offers a small smile, but shakes his head, taking her hand and smoothing her fingers flat on the book.

"Nah, I'm-- I'm alright."

It's obvious he wants to say something else, but he hesitates for a second or two.

"You just said that I-- I make you feel vulnerable? Is that a-- bad thing?"

She sobers, searching his eyes. The hesitation is reciprocated.

"Ah, not — necessarily. S'jus' ... par for the course. Bein' what we are to each other. An' your mind constantly changin'."

He frowns a little in a questioning look.

"My mind-- changing? I don't-- do I change my mind all that much?"

Her eyebrows arch.

"Constantly. Sometimes y'change it back half a dozen times dependin' on your mood."

It's tough keeping up with him.

He blinks. By his expression, this is news to him.

But he thinks back to some of his recent...moods, and tries to recall if he'd changed his mind back and forth on anything in particular. And he purses his lips, grimacing a little, bobbing his head from side to side.

"I guess..."

When he's angry or annoyed, he supposes he could turn fickle and indecisive and make hasty choices, only to go back on them later. It's all part of his habit of saying one thing and doing another. Kate isn't the first one to bear the brunt.

He looks a lot more rueful now.

"Okay, yeah. ...'M sorry?"

She watches him steadily. Her expression betrays nothing, but for how long she's just looking at him it's clear there's something she's not saying.

She looks askance, shaking her head a little.

"I wasn't diggin' for an apology. Ain't no skin off my nose."

"No, I-- I mean, I-- I just thought I'd say so."

He rubs the back of her hand on the book, his thumb sweeping over her wrist.

"And I'm glad it's no skin off your nose, 'cause I like your nose and it's really, really cute and it'd be a shame if anything happened to it, 'specially skin peeling off of it, although that could happen if you get sunburned, I guess..."

She smiles crookedly, giving him a sidelong look.

"Why are you actin' so nervous?"

Laughter's hidden in her tone. She's still curious about how they ended up here, with him all rambles and raves, like he's just come into class without his homework assignment and hasn't yet settled on a good excuse.

She closes her hand around his.

"Tommy. I knew what I was gettin' into with you. I don't expect a thing from you. So jus' settle down, all right? 'Course I'm vulnerable with you; I threw away my whole future t'be with you. Any future I might've had, anyway. You knew that, didn't you?"

"I ain't nervous, I'm just-- tryin' to understand some things."

Which means, yeah, he's kind of nervous about getting something wrong.

After watching her fingers curl around his hand, his eyes then snap up to meet hers.

"Threw away your--? What? No, I-- I didn't. Honey, I ain't stopping you from doin' what you want, so why would you--?"

A deep line forms between her brows.

"Because we talked 'bout it before I ever let you into my bed. Dontcha remember? No picket fences, no happily ever after ... ?"

She shakes her head, searching him out for any glimmer of recollection, any hint of understanding. She thought she'd exposed herself rather neatly back then, but now she's questioning whether he was ever on the same page with her at all.

"Why didja think I got so mad when y'got all suspicious of John an' Jim? Or when y'left the way y'did over Christmas an' came back demandin' answers from me? Tommy, I'm — I know y'do this sorta thing every day, an' I was jus' another notch in your bedpost by the time we got together, but what I meant when I said 'that's why you're the only man I'm seein',' is you're the only man I'm seein'. When y'leave me, there ain't gonna be nobody else comin' t'call. No respectable man is gonna bed a woman who's slept around. No weddin' ring, no picket fences, no happily ever after. With anybody."

She pauses to see if any of that is sinking in.

"Don't y'know how much of myself I trusted you with when I invited y'up t'my room that first time? How terrified I was? D'you have any idea how hard it would be t'do that with anybody else?"

Edited 2013-08-30 03:40 (UTC)

He realizes what she means (some of it hitting him like a Brick of Obvious), and he nods quickly.

"I remember that, honey, really, I do... It's just that sometimes, when I'm with you, I forget that your world and your time is different from mine, and-- I dunno, just-- the way you said 'threw away' made me think that you are totally capable of getting whatever you want and doin' whatever you want 'cause you are just that great, and..."

Trailing off his ramble with a shake of his head, he gives a small, sheepish shrug.

"But I do understand-- a lot better now. 'Specially after spending all this time with you. I mean, yeah, of course, I always knew that us bein' together was a big deal for you from the start, and-- it's why I worked so hard to earn your trust. And to get it back when I lost it. And even though you keep tellin' me that you don't expect anything from me, I just-- I just wanna make this whole thing worth it for you for as long as it lasts."

Oh.

"I never forget how different our worlds are."

And she never could now, not since — well. It's constantly in her mind and in front of her face. And, to be fair, she's not all that fond of his future.

"Y'think gettin' letters with 'bitch' an' sexual propositions is bad, y'wouldn't wanna see how I'd be treated in polite society. Funny, though — I guess the future ain't all that different after all. But that's neither here nor there. I reckon what I should've said is I chose t'throw my future away. What chance did I really have, anyway?"

She breathes a quiet, wry laugh.

"Jus' — remember another thing we got outta the way 'fore we was ever intimate is that y'wouldn't lie t'me. That means makin' promises y'can't keep, too. I dunno what it means t'you t'make this whole thing worth it; I've realized that we see things awful different since gettin' back together. But, like I told you, I knew what I was gettin' into, Tommy, an' I chose t'get into what it was at face value, an' if y'go actin' different an' tryin' t'make things better an' treatin' me like somethin' special, an' y'get my heart all tied up in it, an' in you, an' then y'walk away—"

She's getting visibly upset now. That would be more cruel than just using her for sex.

Suddenly Tommy is confronted with several things-- 'bitch'? chose to throw her future away? making promises he can't keep? something special? heart all tied up?-- and it takes a while for him to pick a reaction and go with it.

"Kate--"

He cups her cheek as it grows flushed against his palm, turning her face so he can look her in the eye.

"I already promised you that I wouldn't lie to you-- and that's a promise I'll keep. And whatever happens down the road, just know that I don't wanna hurt you. Okay? Now, we've got this far. We've been through some rough spots. But bein' here, in your room, with you, in my lap and reading to me--"

He utters a half-laugh in amused disbelief, because he'd never thought that he'd ever want anybody to read anything to him--

"Honey, this right here is worth it."

Stroking her temple with the pad of his thumb, he sighs, pursing his lips.

"I just hope you never regret choosing to be with me."

"I know."

She covers the back of his hand, leaning just a smidgen into his touch. Her eyes practically glow with earnestness.

"I know, I'm jus' — m'just postulatin'. You've been so good t'me over the last four months that it worries me. But I–I know."

Her lips twitch at his half-laugh, eyes flicking away for a moment. That last remark tightens the noose around her heart.

Her voice drops to a whisper.

"Tommy, I'm not gonna regret choosin' t'be with you. I admit that I was selfish at the start. I was lonely, an' you were — there, an' persistent. I thought it'd jus' be — a tryst. Somethin' t'fill the lonely hours. An' I didn't much care; I didn't think we'd become friends."

She squeezes his hand.

"But we did. That is worth it."

They are friends, before anything else. And that is worth it.

He nods faintly, her whispered words warm against his lips, the curl of her fingers drawing him in. He knows how it is, how not caring eventually evolves into actual caring because it's too hard to avoid those feelings. He might even get a little too tied up in her, if he'd let himself. But he chooses not to. For her sake, and for what might happen down that road.

He closes the gap between their mouths, kissing her tenderly, almost chaste, though his hand slips from her cheek to cradle the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair. When they break after a few indulgent moments, he touches his forehead to hers.

"Wanna go to bed?"

There's no smirk, no unnecessary sly insinuation. It's only a suggestion, something to do, together.

She wasn't expecting the tenderness. It warms her to her core, and she sighs, sated. They're professionals when it comes to wrapping themselves up in each other in hurried moments of desperation and passion, needing the closeness, unable to keep their hands off each other. However, this comes less often; the sweetness, the comfort in just being this close, like an extension of themselves. It's grounding. She'd stay here the whole night if she could.

"I couldn't really stop you if that's what y'wanted. You're like a jolly giant compared t'me. Your hand's as big as my head."

She smirks. She's installing a little levity into the moment. He's often so serious, and lately her thoughts have been heavy; sometimes she tires of all the doom and gloom. It's no less true, however. Tommy dwarfs her completely, and if he wanted to he could pick her up just like she was nothing.

They keep their faces close together, murmuring in hushed, almost secretive tones into the small, warm space between them.

"What--?"

Tommy breaks into an amused grin, relaxed and easy, and exhales a quiet chuckle. As much as it feels good to make Kate smile, she has her ways of lifting the world off his shoulders.

"For your information, Miss Barlow, I ain't jolly."

But she is smaller than him by an almost comical degree. That's just a perk in his book. Easier to curl up with. More fun to carry around.

That small space between them will light up with her laughter. Her eyes crinkle, grin broad and amused.

"Bet I could make you jolly if'n I tried."

She tosses her head, affecting a proud air. That smile doesn't go anywhere, though.

Pressing his forehead against hers, he tightens his arm around her shoulders, giving her an affectionate squeeze.

"Oh, if'n you tried? Well, maybe you should, if'n you really can."

He'll never get tired of her little colloquialisms.

"Are you doubtin' me, Tommy Gavin?"

Surely not. He must be smarter than that.

The corners of her eyes crinkle, and just as quickly her expression settles into one of longing. She drinks him in, fingers ghosting along his jaw. Tilting her chin forward the few inches it takes to catch his mouth, she kisses him; soft, warm, lingering. A quiet moan caught between them.

And then, hand snaking down his chest, tugging at the hem of his shirt—

She tickles his belly.

He never doubts her. He just likes to poke her and see what she does next.

And the way she proves herself, with a delicate touch and a kiss that sends a familiar warm thrill down his spine-- well, that's his kind of jolly. Returning the kiss, he's perfectly happy to believe her. Especially when her hand slips further down his body--

"GAH no-- stop--!"

Half-laughing, half-yelping, he tries to catch her offending hand as he wriggles frantically underneath her as if trying to escape into the cracks between the armchair cushions.

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