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neutron-stars-collision · 6 months

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Deadlines & Commitments

Neil x F!Reader

Chapter 6 - Canada Water Underground Station

Masterlist; Chapter 5 Summary: Neil shows you just how well he can take care of you. As the night at your place takes a turn, you both need to adjust to the slight change in the dynamic. Warnings: Explicit content, and I mean it; swearing; slight angst. Author's Notes: Okay, so I'm a day earlier than I thought but since barely anyone reads this anyway... *shrugs* might as well. This is 10+k of smut and then another 3k of mental spiralling (thanks to Duran Duran), to make things more entertaining :)) It's been a while since I wrote scenes like this and it proved to be a challenge but I do hope I delivered. One thing is certain - these two definitely were into whatever I envisioned in my daydreams ✨ Without further ado, I'm leaving you with another 14k of words. The motivation for this story fluctuates like crazy but for now, more is coming. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think? 💕 Taglist: @hollandorks, @kristevstewart, @stargirl25 (let me know if you want to be added)

Although it was far from the very first time you had a gorgeous man kneel before you with a promising smile on his face and a determination to cure your ails through the sheer force of a good orgasm, it might have been the most memorable one.

If only just because of Neil’s eyes, staring into the depths of your soul as he carefully took off your underwear, simultaneously laying kisses on the expanse of your calves, knees, and thighs. In some shades of the light, you would swear his eyes were twinkling.

At first, you wanted to look away, hoping it would help your case. Make it seem less meaningful in this unspecified way that you could not and would not dissect for months. Soon, you found that you simply could not look away. Instead, you looked on, letting his tender caress arrest your senses and instantly put you back within that fuzzy space of mind. Once he took off your panties, Neil glanced up to meet your gaze, that dangerous smile still hiding in the corners of his mouth. His hands continued the journey, pulling up the dress for easier access, all the while driving you another step closer to madness with perfectly laid kisses, burning the tender skin of your inner thighs. Before you could even think of anything to say, he broke the heavy silence:

“You’re beautiful,” the certainty in his voice, as if stating a fact not unlike the existence of the forces of gravity, made you feel lightheaded.

Sure, it was something you had heard before. Maybe even often. But that didn’t mean you believed it. The notion scratched at the edges of your insecurities, never quite managing to scrape them away. Usually, it fell way off.

“See, I don’t know if I should take that seriously” stumbling through the sentence with a breathless voice, you subtly shifted your hips on the sofa and pointedly glanced down at Neil with what you hoped was ferocity, “Considering what you’re about to do to me,”

From his vantage point, with his hands pinning your thighs to the couch, legs wide open with everything on display, the point was more than evident. You could tell Neil caught it with how that light pink spread over his cheeks again, painting a fascinating contrast.

“You should,” drawing mindless circles on your kneecap as if to buy his time, Neil added, “I’ve thought it since I first saw you. It just didn’t seem the right thing to say back then” he shrugged, daring to put forward another mind-blowing concept.

Another fact undeniable only to him. As if desperate to make talking even harder for you, Neil took the pause as his chance to drop his gaze from that respectable position, wandering over your face to stare at the apex of your thighs with nothing but hunger in his eyes. You swallowed hard, feeling the arousal spread through your veins like wildfire.

“And now?” the question was all you could manage, driven by the remains of sanity that considered this answer essential.

As if it would change anything at all.

“Now I’m hopefully going to make you feel really good, so… There aren’t many lines left to cross” Neil glanced up at you again, that same confident smile acting as both a warning and an enticement, luring you in.

As if aware of your increasingly muddled state, he let go of your knee to squeeze your hand and grinned. There was nothing more you felt capable of saying. Or doing, except to drop your head back on the sofa headrest and let Neil do whatever the fuck he wanted.

Which was to trace an invisible line up the expanse of your right leg to that place between your thighs, that was already drenched because of him. Even that ghostly touch burned your skin as Neil carefully parted your folds with the tip of his index finger and dragged it through the slick. Muffling a groan by forcefully biting your lower lip, you closed your eyes. You were already on fire.

“Is this all for me?” the wonder in his voice, combined with just enough smugness to make you consider punching Neil in the face, was another reason to drown in the embarrassment.

Although, drowning in need was a close second with how Neil slowly mapped out his terrain, spreading the wetness over your slit and around the entrance. Preparing you for what he had in mind.

Before you knew what you were doing, your hand had found its way to the nape of his neck, lightly playing with the hair ends and pressing against the warm skin. The contact acted like an anchor, assuring you of the realness of the situation.

“Yeah, but don’t get too cocky about it,” the end of what you hoped to be a warning never quite landed as it was immediately followed by a gasp.

A consequence of the fact that Neil decided to use that exact moment to delve in. His warm breath fanned across your bare skin as he settled between your thighs with a simple comment:

“I’ll do my best” the tail end of the quip was followed by the first experimental lick through your folds, the tongue lightly dragging through the sensitive skin.

You choked on a curse, fingers of the occupied hand already tangling in his blonde locks. Your other hand gripped the sofa edge hard enough that you worried it would leave indents in the material.

Neil took that sound as a cue, repeating the move till you could barely stay still. Keeping your hips pinned to the couch with one arm slung across your thighs, he swirled his tongue over your heat, collecting the arousal as if he was dying of thirst. Just when you thought he would offer respite, he dragged the tip of his tongue up towards your clit and focused the attention on the spot that had you crying out loud.

It was easy to let go then. To keep your eyes closed when Neil’s thoughtful manoeuvres and skilled tongue attacked your senses with an intensity that soon made it impossible to think or speak. Resorted to incoherent mumblings and moans, you tugged at Neil’s hair with force, making him groan. The sound went straight to your core, shooting like a live wire through your body and making you tense up. He was good at this. Not that you ever doubted he would be. He listened and used the cues available to go where you needed him, interchanging between lapping at your heat and sucking your clit. Like a scholar dedicated to his study. Like a devoted believer praying at the altar of his God.

Or goddess, apparently.

You could feel the knot in your lower stomach tighten, that wave of pleasure getting close to unbearable with every second. An attempt at speech only got you as far as a breathless admission, interrupting the silence filled with nothing but your shameless screams:

“I’m so close” it was merely a fact, something he could discern from the force of your grip over his hair or the way you quivered, barely able to keep yourself together, “Neil, please just-”

You did not even know what you were asking for. Something. Anything.

He knew anyway. You felt a comforting touch, a careful hand tracing invisible circles on the skin of your outer thigh as Neil took a break to glance up. Your eyes snapped open at the interruption, meeting his gaze as if following a sense you had no label for.

Much later, you would wonder whether that, the connection so alike the first time your eyes met over the carriage floor, could be something different than a trick of light. Something substantial. Something terrifying.

But, back then, you could only stare back. Vulnerable and at his mercy, yet not scared of the prospect. As if able to read your mind or the incoherent ramblings resembling scatterings of thoughts, Neil shot you a grin. His lips and chin were glistening, coated with your slick. The sight was enough to make you clench around nothing and shudder. Your body wound tight still.

Whatever Neil saw in that moment of silence must have been what he was searching for. Your eyelids fell close when you felt him dive in again, the talented lips enveloping your heat without a second wasted.

Before you could as much as let yourself immerse in the steady rise of pleasure, in the exact feel of his mouth at the most sacred of places you could offer, he took it that one step further. Delivering the deathly stroke with the tip of his tongue, prodding at your entrance, and penetrating it without mercy. It was too late to try muffling the cry torn out of your throat without warning. Christ. You could only attempt not to rip the hair from his head as you tugged at the blonde locks and tried to get him closer. Tried to do what you always did and take what you wanted.

But Neil would not let you, his grip unyielding over your hips, keeping you pinned to the sofa. Keeping you spread out and helpless as he dragged you over the precipice with the tenderness of his touch and the determination of a man desperate to do well. Desperate to serve.

“Oh, fuck,” the curse carried on a moan in that last flash of coherence before the edges of your vision darkened, and your spine rose in an arch, unable to hold still anymore, “I’m-” the thought, whatever it was meant to be, was never finished.

Instead, it got replaced with a litany of his name, whispered with the tint of ecstasy, colouring the vowels and consonants. As if you had nothing else to say. No one else to praise. Just Neil. The wave of pleasure crashed into you without subtlety, its force rendering you numb as you quivered beneath his tongue and under his firm hands. Neil held you as you shook, licking you clean as if he did not want to lose the taste of you from his tongue for hours to come.

When the orgasm started fading, and you felt your body relax again, falling limp against the cushions, you opened your eyes. The hazy vision blurred the edges of your living room, making it seem soft and pliant. Unreal. With a quiet sigh, you glanced down just in time to see Neil raise his head and meet your gaze.

He painted a picture, as always. The blonde strands fell into his eyes, and the sharp cheekbones bathed in pink blush as his lips curled into a smirk. That sudden spike of desire to grab his tie and pull him into a kiss, to learn what your taste feels like on his tongue, was hard to fight against. It made you curl your hand into a fist, focusing on the shade of blue in his eyes. Until you could take another breath. Until your heart rate slowed down. Until everything felt real.

Until you knew what was happening next.

As if aware of the internal crisis, Neil stayed quiet. He observed you with almost unnerving stillness before seemingly finding what he was looking for and letting your legs close with a final kiss on the kneecap. He propped his chin on your thigh, almost resembling a perverse image of a lapdog that you had no idea you were into before now. Curious.

“Everything alright?” the huskiness of his voice swept over your senses like a chilling breeze, waking you up from a trance.

What a silly question. As a preamble to an answer, you shot Neil a wide grin, aware of the madness still clearly visible in your eyes. It hardly mattered.

“Even better” dragging your fingers through his golden mane, you relished in the slight tremble of his hands as Neil settled them atop your thighs. Now it was time to give praise where it was due, “I always knew you’d be good at this, but… fuck’s sake,” that was as far as intelligence went, replaced with a groan that doubled as a dreamy sigh.

It still barely covered what you wanted it to. But Neil knew. It was visible in the pleased smile and the knowing glance thrown your way from his spot at your feet. Almost lazily, his tongue darted out to lick his lips clean of your arousal. Without breaking the eye contact. Of course.

You could hardly ignore the fact that you were wet again. Still, that is.

“I aim to serve, m’lady” squeezing your thigh, Neil got up from his knees to sit by you on the sofa.

He stayed close, and that proximity, complete with the undiminished hunger in his eyes, told you all you needed to know. A push in the right direction.

“Yeah, you do” offering Neil a sly smirk, you shifted so that you were facing him and reached out to grab his tie and pull him close. Just like God intended. Probably, “Come here, I need to-” that sentence had no end prepared, so you sealed it with a kiss.

Your lips covered Neil’s with a self-explanatory intent as your tongue teased and prodded until he opened his mouth and let you in. That first taste of yourself coating his tongue was a revelation. It made you groan, motivating you to rise on your knees and climb into his lap without breaking the kiss. That second of hesitation following the bold move was eradicated when Neil pulled you closer with his hands on your waist. He kissed you as if his life depended upon it, swirling his tongue around yours and mapping out the inside of your mouth. A rush of blood to your head was the reason why you decided to switch it up, lightly scraping your teeth over his bottom lip and pulling until you got a response. The answering growl, reverberating through his chest, ignited the sparks burning out in your blood. Now you knew what you needed to happen. The realisation made you pull back with a final peck upon his parted lips and open your eyes.

Neil’s wrecked gaze felt like a boost to the system, increasing your confidence. It was a reason why you comfortably settled in his lap and regarded him with quiet contemplation. Returning the earlier look.

You tried not to dwell on how different it felt, unhurried and deliberate like none of your previous hook-ups. How uncomplicated it all seemed, with Neil’s steady gaze and firm hands holding you still. How unavoidable you had deemed it to be a long time before. You tried and failed, burying the thoughts behind a wall of sensations and feelings. You hoped they would never resurface again. Somehow.

“Good?” Neil’s question made you start, instantly pulling you back from the abyss in your head.

The surprise must have shown on your face, for Neil followed the question by brushing his nose against yours, tenderness permeating every glance and gesture.

It was almost too much.

“Great” aware of the shakiness of your smile, you splayed your hand over the expanse of his chest, feeling the heartbeat.

It was both a distraction and searching for confirmation. A confirmation that you were not about to make an idiot out of yourself.

The rapid beat beneath your hand erased the doubts, helping you make that decisive move. Meeting Neil’s questioning gaze, you smiled. The edge of your grin turned sharp at the mere thought. Before he could catch the meaning, you got up from the sofa and reached out a hand towards Neil. Extending an invitation.

You could see the quick calculations behind his stare, the blue eyes switching between your extended hand and the enigmatic expression. Although the silence felt eternal, it only lasted a beat. Without another word, Neil took your hand, enlaced your fingers in a loose hold, and stood up from the couch. The certainty in his gaze made it easy to start leading him towards the room down the corridor. The room he has already seen, albeit not in this context.

At the doorway, you let go of him to turn on the lamp in the corner, bathing the room in a warm glow. Neil crossed the threshold, following you like a ghost. You did not need to tell him to shut the door till only a small gap remained. Or to meet you halfway across the room and pull you back into his embrace like you belonged there.

And tonight, it felt like you did.

One giddy kiss quickly turned into the next and then another after that. Until you were both gasping for breath, needy hands tugging and sliding across the pieces of clothing that were in the way. It was then, midway through an inhale you desperately needed, that you realised there was one crucial thing left to settle. One question that you owed Neil:

“Before I make a fool of myself… Do you want this?” settling your hands on his shoulders, you met Neil’s gaze with what you hoped was a coherent enough look.

You could tell the question surprised him from the way his eyes widened, hands wrinkling your dress over the hips with a tight grip. But the pause only lasted a second.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t” the confidence was striking, almost fatal in how well it fit his beautiful face. The angles softened by the warm light, and the smugness still felt lethal, threatening to cut you open if you kept on being reckless. You pushed the warning to the back of your head, focusing on the look in Neil’s eyes, “I want you. So much it drives me crazy” the admission completed the desire in his gaze.

Its simplicity drove a shiver up your spine and bloomed heat on your cheeks. While it was nothing you have not anticipated, hearing it said so plainly drove the point home. It offered no space to bargain for insecurities and doubts. As much as you still did not know the expiration date on this precious, lovely thing between you, now you knew where it was going. You knew the drill. The logic of it. Need, want, desire. Yearning to have another person, claim them as your own, just for one night. Just until you felt whole again. One night should be enough.

Right?

Instead of addressing that thought, you smoothed out the creases in Neil’s tie and met his gaze with indifference. (At least outwardly).

“Fab. I’m glad we got that sorted” giving the Windsor knot a final pat, you shot Neil a smile.

Slowly, with his grounding touch running over the sides and down to your hips, you could feel the temperature rise again. The increase was steady, not yet overwhelming like before on the sofa, but it was very much there. It made your gaze wander, trailing down the column of his neck, begging to be kissed and bitten, to the expanse of his chest, still hidden by the frustrating layers of cotton and linen. You desperately wanted to get your hands on him. Properly.

“Do you?” the question caught you by surprise, making you look up to see Neil’s searching gaze.

Your brain muddled with want, needed another second to understand what he meant. Only then disbelief took the stage, with the bewilderment in your eyes. What kind of stupid question was that?

“Obviously. I’ve only been eye-fucking you for months” that was an understatement.

But it hit the mark, with a hitch in his chest and a subtle move of hands on your hips pulling you a fraction closer. Enough so there was barely space left between your bodies, and you could just about feel the effects of your words and actions on Neil. At least the physical side of them. A glance down, below his belt, confirmed the suspicions and made you grin like a wolf that has just spotted its prey for the night.

“Have you now?” the hints of amusement in his voice, still somehow mixed with uncertainty, were enough to put the need aside for one second and meet Neil’s gaze with confidence.

The apprehension, when it came to how you saw him, had no place here. Not when each time you laid your eyes on him, you only found more reasons to be captivated. Not when Neil tended to be the only one you could see when you were together. When he haunted your dreams with beauty and pleasure. No, that wouldn’t do.

Covering his hands with yours, you stood on the tiptoes to kiss him on the forehead. Leaning in, you whispered a simple admission:

“Yes, Neil” you hoped he could tell there was more behind those two words. That he could see the depths of admiration you had never possessed for another person, save for him. That he knew how much you meant every tender compliment and careful touch. It was the most you could offer. The furthest line you would cross. It was high time to return to the crux of the conversation. You did so with a bat of the eyelashes and a smirk on your face, “And now I want you to fuck me. Is that clear?”

Admittedly, the whiplash you served Neil was quite something. He took it with a few seconds of hesitation, a lack of comprehension flashing through his eyes in something resembling the 500 error screen. You fought the urge to burst out in ridiculous giggles. Then, as if his brain finally caught up with your words, Neil blinked. Once, then twice. Blue eyes flashing with inklings of understanding. It was fascinating to watch. To notice the different shades of his iris and then the exact second when yearning replaced the previous confusion and took up reigns.

“Yes, m’am” grinning wide, Neil mimicked a lazy salute and took a decisive step forward, pushing you towards the bed with newly minted drive.

You sure did not mind the initiative, letting him steer you in the right direction until you felt the edge of the mattress hit the backs of your legs. A sudden strike of inspiration made you use the years of ballet and turn on your toes, pivoting you both to reverse the positions. His quiet gasp was an indication that you succeeded. Without another word, you pushed him down to sit on the bed, meeting the bewildered gaze with a grin. It was high time he got used to it.

When you had him where you wanted – seated below you with a gaze full of awe and parted lips, you whispered the only praise that came to mind:

“Good boy,” the effect was instant.

A swallowed groan, complete with an eye roll that was still somehow fond. Before you could react, tease him further, Neil reached out to grab onto your hips and pulled you down, throwing you off balance. There was no point in resisting gravity as you tumbled down onto the mattress with a whoosh and found yourself in his arms. Again. His hands wandered over your body in broad strokes, igniting the fire as you closed the distance and captured his mouth in a kiss.

One kiss stretched into another and one more still, spanning minutes and seconds until you were both gasping for oxygen. Until all you could taste was Neil, and all you could feel was his touch. Between one sharp inhale and the next, you placed a kiss on the edge of his mouth and started trailing pecks down the column of his neck, making Neil shiver and moan. Each kiss was sealed with the tiniest bite, barely reddening the tender skin and a reconciliatory lick so you could satiate the desire with his taste. Just a little bit.

His exploring hands crept beneath the hem of your dress again, pulling up the fabric and creating goosebumps on your thighs. There was no guessing what it meant. Ending your intensive study with a lingering bite over his pulse point, marking him for everyone to see, you leaned back far enough to meet Neil’s gaze. You offered him a subtle nod and sat up, twisting so he could see the zipper running down your spine. The message was clear. He caught it with a knowing smirk, lightly brushing away the hair falling over the nape of your neck. The tremble in the wake of his touch had to be disguised with a sigh.

Even now, Neil was gentle. One of his hands settled on the back of your neck, stroking the delicate skin with unnecessary care, while the other tugged at the zipper, slowly undressing you. That first hit of colder air in the apartment was a shock to the system, making you inhale sharply. The sound alerted Neil. His hand skirted down your spine to warm up your skin revealed beneath the dress. Now, you could not do anything about the shivers rocking through your body in an embarrassing display. Before you could even attempt to fill the silence with another dose of bullshit, Neil pulled the zipper all the way down to the base of your spine and slipped his hand inside the dress. The warmth of his palm against your bare stomach felt like a burning flare, putting your soul alight. Sucking in the air sharply, you pressed your back to his chest, seeking out more.

The intimacy of the moment could not escape your attention. The slow pace and conscious decisions to get to know each other first were something new. Something unheard of as far as your hook-ups went. There was no rush in tearing off the clothes and getting off as far as possible to avoid the thoughts catching up. Instead, there was Neil’s hand against your midriff and his mouth against the back of your neck, gently biting the sensitive skin and making it impossible for you to detach from the present moment. Not that you wanted to.

When he deemed it right, Neil leaned back and slipped the dress off your shoulders. A sudden uncertainty took root in your heart, like a bad seed eager to corrupt the rest of the crops. What was about to happen seemed substantial somehow. Despite the improbable nature of the idea that Neil could take one look at you naked and decide that you were not worth his time, the concept was still there. It replaced the previous bravado, making you exhale shakily before standing up and turning towards him, holding up the article of clothing to keep it from falling.

You knew there was no point in fooling yourself that Neil did not catch on to your hesitation. Not with the way he always saw right through whatever posturing you tried to attempt. You met his gaze, aware of the extent of damage to the reputation it would do. All you found looking back at you was his silent reassurance, trying to keep you anchored. Inhale. Exhale.

Before your brain could become a little bitch again, you relaxed the hold over the fabric, letting it fall to the floor. You had nothing to hide behind, having left the bra back in the dressing room and your underwear on the floor of the living room. The chill in the air made you tremble, barely resisting the urge to cover up.

Neil’s gaze remained steady as he took you in. His eyes roamed over your body, noting the curves and edges, imperfections, and flaws. That fear was still there, making you tighten your hands into fists. Neil closed the gap, taking both your palms into his and relaxing the muscles. Taking a deeper breath, you risked meeting his eyes. The blue depths lured you in, showing nothing but affection and infatuation. For reasons unknown, the look felt dangerous in way you could not describe. So, you stared back, ignoring the desire to fill the stifling silence with words that could not be taken back.

As always, Neil proved to be the braver one.

“Are you alright?” his soothing tone complemented the gentle touch of his hands running up your bare arms to rest over your shoulders.

Even now, Neil proved to be shockingly respectful. His eyes never strayed from yours and although he had all rights to touch you as he pleased - he did not. Something in his gaze told you this was a given for Neil. A rule he would never even consider crossing. The realisation helped you find your voice again.

“Always,” the wavering tone did nothing to create an illusion of nonchalance.

But then, it was too little too late, anyway.

Upon Neil’s searching gaze, you nodded. It must have been what he was looking for because the next thing you knew, he was placing a lingering kiss on your lips and letting his hands wander. At first, tentatively down the centre of your chest and over the heart, beating so fast you would swear even Neil could hear it pounding in the silence. Then, he got braver, palms cupping your breasts and tracing the pink areolas, making you gasp and tense. If his hand delved between your thighs, you knew he would find you dripping wet.

But he didn’t. Instead, Neil mapped out the constellations of freckles and beauty marks over your chest and stomach while massaging your breasts and stoking the fire burning underneath your skin. When he first tweaked your nipple, the resulting moan made you clamp your mouth shut with your hand and stare at him in silent horror. There was no room for aloofness and detachment here. No space to pretend you were not bothered. And that was terrifying.

Yet, the most terrifying moment came a little later when Neil had you spread out beneath him on the bed. He was still wearing clothes, and it was a fact that would have caused much more annoyance had he not just finished leaving marks over your chest, kissing, and biting all the sensitive spots. Your panting mouth was still parted on a gasp when Neil released your nipple with a wet pop and moved back up to meet your gaze. Like this, with his cheeks permanently coloured pink and lips red from the kisses you did not seem able to stop trading, he was exceptionally breath-taking. Your chest heaved as you attempted to formulate any words, but before you could succeed, Neil broke the silence:

“You’re beautiful” it was an echo from maybe an hour before, uttered with even more reverence.

The effect was strengthened by the look in his eyes, roaming over your face with something akin to worship.

Worship you were not worthy of. Never. And especially not by Neil, who, without a shadow of a doubt, deserved better. The thought was not anything new, yet it acted like a bucket of ice-cold water, wiping off the dreamy haze you had settled into. Oh, so stupidly.

Suddenly, the rightness of it all seemed wrong. Skewed in a direction you did not dare ponder. Because yes, Neil was the right one, the one you desperately needed to have. Even if just once. But not like this. Not with all those feelings and monumental thoughts that strayed too far from the comfort zone. No, you had to act. Had to remind both Neil and yourself what was going on here. Who you were supposed to be.

Swallowing past the inexplicable lump in your throat, you sat up and pushed Neil up with your hands around his neck. It was much easier to breathe like this, no longer entirely at his mercy. With his blue eyes peering at you with curiosity, you settled your hands on the buttons of his vest and smirked:

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” now that sounded more like you.

It was a perfect opener, instantly eliciting a reaction in the form of widened eyes and parted lips. Neil stared at you for something close to thirty seconds, which proved that it was the last thing he expected you to say. But then, just as you dared undo the first button of his vest, he grinned. That wolfish smile which haunted your sleepless nights flashed at you with an edge of something dangerous hidden beneath. Something you wanted to discover.

“Then do something about it, Cupid” Neil shot you a wink and leaned back on his elbows to strengthen the point.

The point that you were allowed to do whatever you wanted to him. There was no need to say it twice. You undid the rest of the buttons on his vest, pushing the garment down his shoulders and letting Neil shrug it off till the garment landed on the floor. It had served its purpose. Definitely.

Loosening up the tie was the easy part, and as you took it off over his head, you paused with the burgundy accessory in hand. The second of hesitation did not go unnoticed.

“What’s up?” Neil’s cautious tone made you grin as you looked up to see him peer at you with curiosity and alarm in equal proportions.

Wrapping the tie around your fist to keep the accessory as a needed prop dressing in the scene, you shrugged:

“Nothing. I’m just thinking about the different ways I could use this on you” the twinkle in your gaze was unmistakable for what it suggested.

There sure were ideas. Tones of them, and one better than the other. Images like wrists bound together with the tie or the burgundy fabric used as a blindfold were only a start of what you could concoct at the spur of the moment. The ideas alone made you shiver with anticipation.

Even more so when you saw Neil’s blank gaze, staring at the very topic of the conversation with something that could only be described as revelation. It dawned slowly as his pupils dilated, and the darkness consumed the blue irises. Licking his lips thoroughly as if already feeling the effects of what was about to happen, Neil raised his head and met your gaze.

“Now?” he sounded breathless, tongue stumbling even over a one-word question.

You buried the wave of affection under a dry chuckle, focusing on unbuttoning his shirt with single-minded focus. The tortoiseshell buttons necessitated a certain degree of patience, which you were not sure you possessed. And least of all right now. But, considering that the alternative was doing something stupid like ripping it off him, you did your best. The expletives still came, even if only in the quiet of your mind.

“Next time” once you were halfway done, you looked up and winked.

Was it too much? Probably. It assumed a course of events that you had no right to dump on Neil. Let alone like this. As if it was a given. But hopes were there, traitorously scheming in the unconscious layers of your psyche. Faint wishes that maybe you could have more than a one-night special.

Before you could dwell on the probability of thoughts like these, you broke eye contact again and glanced at your work in progress. With just a couple of buttons left, you could see the perfect canvas - pale and almost unblemished. You rushed through the remaining steps and pushed the shirt down his arms until he took over the task with a smirk and shrugged it off. You did not wait to look where the shirt had fallen as your eyes took in the picture.

He was beautiful in that perfectly imperfect way that tended to catch you unaware. His broad chest narrowed at the waist, presenting just the right amount of musculature. Strong arms drew you like a magnet, and you did not hesitate before letting your hand dart out to skim over his biceps and down the planes of his chest to touch the firm muscles. Neil was watching you intently. His gaze followed your every move as you slowly took him in. Noticing the scattering of beauty marks along the inside of his right arm and the dark, coarse hair covering his torso. Pressing your hand against the centre of his chest, you felt the beat of his heart and the heat of his skin. A strange sense of completion settled in your chest, making the heat bloom on your cheeks. That never happened before, either.

Before you could spiral over that singular, alarming thought, Neil covered your hand with his and asked:

“Better than the picture?” although the smug smile graced his features, you could sense hesitancy underlining the question.

A fear that you were about to laugh at him or ridicule his looks. As if he wasn’t the most incredible person you’ve seen. As if you were not rendered speechless.

There was no other way to approach it than by acting. Fast.

You glared at him with what you hoped promised no bullshit to be accepted and pushed at his chest till Neil was sprawled on your bed with his head propped on the headboard. He painted a beautiful picture. The only flaw was the infuriating presence of pants, but that had to wait. Just a little longer.

When you had him where needed, you straddled his lap and met his slightly bewildered gaze with a confident smile.

“Definitely,” you nodded, strengthening the statement with a careful touch as your fingers stroked his torso, wandering down till you could lay your palm flat against his abdomen. The trail of darker hair disappearing under the belt acted like a magnet, and you did not even try resisting the pull, “You’re fucking stunning,” sealing the compliment with a kiss was just a formality.

Yet the way Neil leaned into it, kissing you back with the ferocity of that first time on the platform, made your head spin. Somewhere, at the edge of consciousness not presently occupied with the taste of his tongue and the exact way his mouth pressed against yours, you could not ignore the obvious. The fact that it was never like this. No one-night-stand ever felt this deliberate and measured in a way that still incited a fire in your stomach and hunger in your blood. There was something different in how you kissed and let things slowly build up to sex rather than just rushing through every step along the way.

It all led to another thought, a faint realisation that you might have already subconsciously decided that one time with him would not be enough. Even before getting to know what it was like. That thought was not as terrifying as you expect it to be. Still, you ignored it, placing it among the towering piles of things not spoken or thought of until the end of time itself.

The piles were beginning to topple. One by one.

Neil broke the kiss with a telling gasp, shifting beneath you and bumping his hips into yours, drawing your attention back where it belonged. Namely to the darkness of his eyes and the visible bulge below the belt. Your hands almost automatically wandered to the belt buckle, but before you could put them to work, his breathless attempt at speech made you stop:

“I’m not-” you did not need to hear the sentence to understand it.

It was there in the uncertainty of his gaze and the bashful blush on his cheeks. How he still chose to stare at the bedcover instead of you, even when you were in his lap, free to be ogled for all he liked.

It was increasingly clear that Neil was not like that. That he was not like anyone you had ever known.

Ignoring that primal desire to undo his belt right this very instant, you abandoned the task and cupped his face between both hands, forcing Neil to meet your gaze.

“You are. Trust me,” there was no need to make those words sound convincing, for you believed it more than you knew how to express.

You stared as Neil seemingly tried to take it in. His eyes roamed over your features with scrutiny for a beat. He must not have found anything amiss because the next thing you knew, Neil was breaking into a smile and pulling you back into his arms.

Things went a little easier after that when you could fall upon familiar sensations and actions to push you in the right direction. Sure, there still were a couple of hung-ups, like that embarrassingly long pause you stumbled into once you had successfully taken off Neil’s trousers and underwear and could compare imagination to reality. Your imagination fell short. Somehow. Because, as you probably should have expected, Neil had no reason to compensate for anything. In the slightest.

At first, your undivided attention made Neil fall quiet, with the bashfulness threatening to replace the tentative confidence you were beginning to enjoy about him. But that changed when you shook off the hitch and let your hands explore. Your fingers traced the veins on his length as your palm started stroking him with confident twists in the wrist. Then Neil was not able to stay quiet any longer. He groaned, the sound reverberating through his chest as he laid next to you on the bed. Something in his gaze made it impossible to look away as you stroked and touched him, listening to the cues so earnestly provided. Soon enough, you knew what he liked, what moves elicited the moans that shot right to your core, making you squeeze the thighs hard in pointless hopes that it would do something to ease the throbbing want. It didn’t do shit.

As if reading your mind (or simply seeing the need written all over your face), Neil batted your courageous hands away with a pained glare that told you all you needed to understand and allowed his palms to wander. The hand that was previously placed on your hip slid down your naked skin. The places he touched felt like they were on fire, and the sensation grew when you felt his elegant hand delve between your legs again with confidence. Unbeknownst to Neil, that – his beautiful and mouth-wateringly long fingers moving between your thighs and between your folds – was a frequently-featured hit in your nightly fantasies. The reality lived up and surpassed the imagination in this case, too.

A wolfish grin you noticed too late did not warn you of what was coming. Neil wasted no time. His right hand instantly darted to your clit to circle the bud with precision and speed that matched the level of your fever. With him, you found no need to fill the silence with pointless words, instead letting yourself gasp and moan as he met your gaze with a smirk on his face and dipped a finger inside. There was no need to question the wetness he must have found, yet you noted a surprise pass through his face as if that was somehow unexpected. But you had no time to dwell on the thought. That delicious stretch as Neil added the second finger to your entrance wiped all coherence from your head. A loud moan tore at your throat as you shivered, finally feeling something take care of the emptiness at your core. But it wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t be till you had him.

His fingers quickly build up a rhythm, with the thumb pressing at your clit just right. Your hands, which had previously idly rested on his chest, ventured up to grasp at his shoulders, looking for support as the pressure rose with overwhelming pace. You were aware of the red lines you were scratching on his back and the pathetic moans and half-swallowed curses that permeated the silence. But you were unable to do anything about them. Not with how Neil knew exactly what to do to make you come. Again.

That lethal strike came when you felt a third digit delve inside. It joined the other two, keeping up the pace and making you scream with pleasure. The perfect fulness could only be replaced with one thing. One sensation that would go beyond it. It was a thought that pushed you over the edge, making you rake your fingers through his skin and squeeze your eyes shut against the force of the orgasm. Only once you felt like you could breathe again, lying lifelessly on the bedding, you opened your eyes again. The smug smile on Neil’s face confirmed one thing – he knew what he was doing. You were but a mere puppet in his hands.

A very willing puppet, one might add.

When you recovered the senses and coherence enough to speak, you met Neil’s gaze and stated:

“I’d like you to fuck me” there was no need to hide behind metaphors and euphemisms when saying it out loud was merely a formality.

Everything before led to it, after all. Every touch, glance, and flirtatious exchange that with Neil was almost too easy. It was what you always wanted, right from that first conversation and the dawning understanding that Neil was too incredible to forget. It was not an accident that ever since meeting him, you had close to no desire to have sex with anyone else, no pull to score another hookup in the bathroom of a club or the apartment of yet another random guy.

No, what you wanted (who you wanted) was Neil.

What you saw in his eyes, looking back at you through the narrow space between your heads, told you that he got the message. The yearning you often thought you saw in his gaze was present now. Along with want that dripped from his hands as they touched your body, tenderly yet with purpose. Neil stared at you as if he never wanted to look away and could not be convinced to. Like you were the only thing he desired. Or at least, you hoped it was like that for him. Too.

“Are you sure?” the pre-emptive question would have been silly was it not so damn endearing coming from him.

It coexisted with his hands skating over every inch of your skin within his reach and his hardening length pressing against your thigh. You had no choice but to offer him a smirk and cup his face to soften the tone. Just a notch.

“Very,” sealing the response with a kiss, you moved closer across the minimal space so that no gap between you remained.

It was easy to hitch your thigh over his hip and take him in your hand to guide him inside. It was easier still to break the kiss with a gasp once you felt him enter you. The sound mixed with his choked breath, sharp and sudden as if even though it was expected, Neil was not quite ready. His hand tangled in the hair at the back of your head, gently holding you close. The other was splayed over your waist, helping to find that perfect angle. He slowly inched inside, taking his time to bottom out, for which you were more than grateful. The pace helped you get accustomed to the feeling of fullness, almost painful yet not at all. The slight discomfort was the wake-up call you needed, a sensation so familiar that you could rely upon it to find your footing. To ignore the feelings and inconvenient thoughts for the sake of this, right here.

It helped you adjust the position, placing your hands on his shoulders for leverage and meet his gaze. A moan upon the feeling of him inside you, filling you perfectly, was muffled with a kiss he incited. It deepened as you opened your mouth for Neil and shifted so that your pelvises were touching. The move made him break the kiss with a telling groan, expressing exactly how it felt. He occupied all your senses, making it impossible to think or do anything but stare back at his beautiful face, now transformed by pleasure.

That first moment, the first sensation of connection when you slept with someone new, often hit like a drug. A dopamine hit, going straight to your brain. A rare sense of completion, especially sweet after months or weeks of pining for someone. It was like that now, too. The sensation of his naked skin touching yours, the heat of his body burning at your cells, and the strange knowledge that at least for the moment, you were one. Bodies and souls joined for one common purpose. Chasing that spectacular high that you knew was in reach now. Only then did you not feel like you were missing something crucial that you would never attain.

“All good?” your silence must have been alarming, for Neil’s question had a tint of concern underlining it.

Only that made you realise he was still as if frozen by uncertainty and afraid to mess it all up somehow. As if that was possible.

That had to be amended instantly.

“Yes,” offering him a slightly manic grin perfected by insanity in your gaze and tender touch ghosting over his beating heart, you added, “You can move now,”

Neil did not need to be told twice. He took your hand in his and started the slow tempo, thrusting with something you could easily mistake for gentleness. Softness you were not used to crashed against the walls built around your guarded heart. For now, they were too weak to cause damage. Thank God.

Tightening the hold over his palm, you raised your joined hands over your heads, looking for something to hold on to. Your other hand found purchase on his shoulder, digging in your fingernails as the pressure rose. The unhurried rhythm made the pleasure fill your veins in slow, consistent waves. You could feel it build up again as your inner muscles contracted, eliciting moans and curses from Neil. Once you knew how to meet him in the middle, you bucked your hips in response, earning a groan that shot straight to your molten core. The sound and the gratification it carried brought a grin to your face. It spurred you on with the promise that you could return the immense satisfaction Neil brought you. That you could make yourself memorable.

That notion inspired you to use the core strength and athletic training and topple Neil without letting you separate. His sharp gasp told you it was the last thing he expected. Good. From your new position astride him, you watched his heaving chest as Neil processed your impish trick. Warm light painted his skin and made his hair look like a golden halo belonging to a fallen angel. An angel worth the fall from the heavens.

Before he could recover fully, you rolled your hips and rose on your knees to fall again in the slightest of moves. It only strengthened the titillation on his face, but it did the trick. His blue eyes blinked awake as his hands found their purchase again, skating over your thighs to rest on your hips. With your subtle nod, he guided you to match the desired tempo.

Like this, with full opportunity to control the pace, you could allow yourself to stare. To take note of the subtle changes on his face. Like the crease between his eyebrows begging to be smoothed out. Or the panting mouth, pink parted lips still red from the kisses. Or the pearls of sweat on his temples and chest, proving that you were doing something right. Proving that perhaps Neil would remember you.

The coil in your lower stomach was tight now, feeling close to bursting and bringing you another orgasm. You could tell Neil was close, too. It was visible in the bliss written all over his face, and the abdomen muscles pulled tight. Your fingers grazed over his chest, drawing mindless patterns and bringing out goosebumps as a reward. As if able to read your mind or feeling the way you constricted around his length, Neil met your haze and raised his hand to place it between your thighs. Thumb on the clit, circling the bud with a rhythm that by now he knew would work. Just like that. Without you ever having to ask.

The realisation alone was why you could not stay quiet any longer.

“Neil-” a pathetic sob interrupted the sentence with no aim in sight, so the rest came out in a rush, barely aware of what you were saying, “You’re perfect,”

It didn’t make the words any less true. Any less real.

But still, it was not something he anticipated. Neil glanced at you, and before he could school his features into a less vulnerable expression, you noticed hints of uncertainty. Something else was there, too, occupying the dark depths of his pupils and shining through the greyish blue of his irises. It was gone before you could identify it, but you considered tattooing the exact shade of his eyes on your skin the morning after. You felt like it might match the shade of your heart tomorrow.

“You stole my line” there was no genuine grievance in the look he gave you, instantly bucking his hips into yours to make you swear and shiver. You were so close now. The edges of your vision were growing fuzzy again as you felt your inner muscles contract and squeeze around him, eliciting another groan and a sigh that matched the words echoing in your head, “Jesus Christ…” it took him another second of composure to find the words that only confirmed your suspicions “Cupid, I’m not gonna-” using his seconds of distraction, you leaned forward to deepen the contact and covered his mouth with yours, interrupting the sentence.

With the kiss, as hungry and devouring as always, you hoped to convey everything you could not tell him. That he mattered. That you were beginning to worry he had ruined you for anybody else. Ever. That although you would try, nothing would ever be the same again. Neil took the kiss with an eagerness that was still somehow startling. He nipped and licked at your lips, ensuring they stayed red and swollen. Only when another moan escaped the confines of his mouth and made it impossible to continue the kiss, you broke the contact and met his delirious gaze with a smile. You could feel his rhythm stutter and wane as he visibly approached orgasm. There was just one thing left to about it.

“Come for me” although piecing together a sentence was a struggle, the reward in the form of Neil’s muffled curse and full-body shudder was worth it. You watched as his abdomen muscles tensed, and he began thrusting with no rhythm or pace, helping you chase the feeling that was just around the corner. Leaning forward again, you placed your hand over his head and whispered into his ear, “Now,”

The word acted like a trigger. Neil stiffened in your embrace, his hands seeking out your waist and holding tight. Without thinking, you rested your forehead against his and felt him fill you to the brim. Warmth spread through your core, making you clench around him one last time before your body gave in. White sparks filled your vision as you closed your eyes and entangled your fingers in his hair. You could finally let go. A pleasured scream rang through the silence of the room as you collapsed, limbs falling lifelessly against his sturdy form. For a split second of stupid indulgence, you let yourself believe that Neil would always be there to catch you.

But that wasn’t a happy ending people like you wanted. Or deserved.

You were half aware of what came after. Of how your body trembled in Neil’s embrace and how he whispered your favourite nickname repeatedly, filling the word with enough affection to bruise your heart purple. You knew you should cut this short to prevent the inevitable awkwardness that almost always followed as fast as possible. But you couldn’t. Not yet.

Instead, you snuggled into the crook of his neck and inhaled, feeling the ache in your body. It would hurt like a bitch tomorrow, you were sure. But for now, you focused on the steady rise and fall of his chest and the comfort of his hands resting on your naked waist and back. By some miracle, it seemed like Neil was one of the few men who did not mind your desire to snuggle and breathe instead of quickly dismissing whatever transpired between you as an unimportant rendezvous on the timelines of your lives.

Yet, soon enough, you had to break the silence. The best way you knew how.

“You’re such a good boy” as soon as the words left your mouth, carried on a teasing tone, and accompanied by the smirk hidden in his neck, Neil’s comforting touch stilted.

Judging by the hitch in his chest and an ill-disguised cough, he choked on the breath intake. Even in the confused depths of your mind, you had to admit it was rather adorable. And it most definitely did the trick by diffusing the tension caused by the deafening silence and your synched-up heartbeats, which had no right to exist. Not here. Not ever.

“You’re incorrigible” laughter rang through the letters in his response as Neil chuckled dryly and resumed the caress, letting his fingers skim up and down the ridges of your spine.

You never wanted to move again.

That’s why it was high time to do so.

“You love it, though,” the rebuttal was easy to conjure as you lifted on your forearms and slid off his body with an apologetic smile. The gasp at the loss of contact and emptiness that followed was inevitable but also necessary. Laying down on your side so that you could see his face, you spoke, “Damn, that was…” before any accurate adjective could be found, Neil turned onto his side, mirroring your position and met your gaze, striking you mute in the process.

There was something indescribable there. A vastness of emotions you could not decipher without delving into that scary territory of your understanding that was never meant to be breached. Especially not like this. Not right now.

So, instead, you let your eyes take in his beauty, and the fading blush, complete with lips kissed raw and tangled hair. A look so thoroughly labelled as ‘freshly well-fucked’ that no other words were necessary or even advised. Even better so that you were the sole cause and reason. A point of pride, in fact.

“Good?” the joy in his gaze was enough reason to banish the strange thoughts and focus on the fact that his question demanded an answer.

As much as you were almost positive Neil knew just how damn good the sex had been, it still seemed like he wanted to hear it from you. You were happy to comply.

“Very good” a smug grin was complimented by the satisfaction Neil was bound to see in your radiant gaze.

Strengthening the point, you shifted closer to him to place your hand over his heart and winked. It did the job. Neil flashed you a bashful smile and leaned over to press a peck onto the crown of your head. That was an unprecedented act. Something that had never happened before. Terrifying in its novelty.

The realisation was enough to make you sit up and gather the covers to gain at least an illusion of modesty. A glance at the alarm clock told you how late it was, with the digits flashing a remorseful 02:27 AM. It was high time to make a move.

Without waiting for Neil to catch up with the drastic changes in your demeanour, you reached towards the chair next to the bed, where your dressing gown had landed that morning due to marvellous luck and got up to put it on in one, practised move. Only then could you look back at Neil to say:

“I’ll be right back,” sending him a smile that was hopefully neutral enough so that he would not understand the depths of your inner turmoil, you turned on your heel and waltzed out of the bedroom straight down the corridor to the bathroom.

Once the door had been closed, you let out a relieved sigh and met your crazed gaze in the mirror. Your hair was a tangled mess, and your lips were kissed red, telling a simple tale. As were the faint pink marks left on your neck, which would require concealer tomorrow. It was all worth it. You knew as much without having to search your heart. At least now you understood what it was that you craved so badly. How it felt and how it tasted. Now you knew what about Neil made you feel so insane.

And now, knowing all of it, you also understood that just once would not be enough. It couldn’t be.

Armed with that knowledge and the particular pain of realisation that often accompanied those hard-hitting truths concerning interpersonal relationships, you also knew what you needed to happen. You had to do everything in your might to keep Neil close. To ensure you would not lose a dear friend so quickly after gaining him.

As you stared at the bathroom floor tiles, you reminded yourself of the crucial detail that it was all in Neil’s hands. He would be the one dealing the cards. The one deciding what awaited you next. The best you could do was be yourself and not scare him off prematurely. Easy, right?

A quiet scoff answered the rhetorical question as you dried your hands with a towel and turned towards the door again. Now onto the harder part…

If there was one rule you had, one that you never, ever crossed no matter the circumstances, it was that you never stayed for the night or invited whoever you had sex with to stay over at your place. Simple. Except for that first time you had to bring it up with someone new. Like now.

Before you could even consider deciding how to go about it or how to signal what you needed to happen without making the situation painfully awkward, you walked out into the corridor to see Neil standing in the doorway of your bedroom. He was finishing buttoning up the shirt and met your gaze with an understanding smile:

“I’ll get going” no matter how hard you looked, you could not see hurt or grudge in his eyes or in the shrug he sent as he put on the tie and tightened the knot.

That was certainly a relief. A cop-out, but you were not the one to argue with fate when it offered easy wins. But-

“Are you sure?” you had to ask.

Not that you were willing to break the rule, but you had to know that he was okay with it. Because, for some unknown reasons, what Neil felt and thought seemed important in ways you did not begin to understand. It was just a fact.

“Yeah. It’s late anyway” the assured look in his eyes told you there was no point in prodding further. Instead, you watched as he put on the vest and fastened the buttons. Before you could get lost in thoughts, Neil spoke again, “Thanks, though, it was… a very memorable night” the hint of a smile in his voice was clarified by the bright grin he offered.

It was a wild, sharp thing that always felt so right on his face that you wondered how come he was not smiling all the time. Although that could cheapen the effect, you noticed upon a second thought.

The grin almost made you ignore the affection in his gaze. Almost.

“That it was” the blush on your cheeks was no longer as rare an occurrence as you wanted it to be, so you tried to hide it by glancing at the floor instead of holding his all-seeing gaze. The sentiment stayed true, “Message me when you get home?” it was another question that had to be asked although you could not understand why, “So that I know you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere?” because that concern was also something new.

You never cared quite so much. Never before. It was worrying in ways that made you want to hide your head in the sand and never poke out again for fear of the consequences crashing on top of it. But life rarely offered such mercies.

“Of course, Cupid” feeling Neil approach, you looked up in time to see him close the awkward gap between you.

He passed you in the corridor, the cuff of his shirt brushing against your arm as he raised his hand, visibly hesitating. Tilting your head in a silent question, you waited for him to decide. The resolution came in the form of his hand cupping your cheek for the briefest of seconds. The touch was gone before you could react, but the ghost of it stayed behind as you whispered:

“Thank you” it was another sentiment that needed no prompt or inspiration; it was just a fact.

Something that sprung from your heart like an overeager daffodil seedling breaking through the frozen February soil. Too early and bound to freeze before it could ever bloom into life.

“For?” Neil stopped in the doorway to the living room and stared back at you.

The expression on his face was impossible to puzzle out. It almost made everything easier. Easier to risk the freezing for the chance of elaborating on what you wanted him to know.

“Everything, really,” shrugging, you offered Neil a smile.

Not the sharp, dangerous grin he knew too well. No, it was a gentle thing; so ill-fitting of what you thought you understood about yourself.

But perhaps you understood nothing.

Not too long later, you heard him open the door to your apartment and let himself out quietly. You padded to the living room and picked up the used dirty wine glasses and the empty bottle. For a second, you contemplated smashing the bottle against your head to stop thinking. Then you realised the blood loss was probably not worth the passing relief. Probably.

***

Staring at the depths of the coffee in his mug, Neil sighed heavily for the umpteenth time within the past three hours that passed since waking up. Waking up in the new world, he unhelpfully added upon opening his eyes. As if his brain conspired to fuck him over, Neil could not stop thinking about it. About her. And everything that happened. All to the point that he barely slept within the odd four hours he snatched between stumbling into his apartment past 3 AM and waking up with a curse on his lips sometime after 7 AM. There was no sleep to be found after, so he gave up.

Visit to the gym did not cause any miracles either, but at least now he was free to sit on the sofa and stare into space. As if that would help. It is not even that anything was wrong. Or that he regretted the previous evening because he certainly did not. He did not. Everything that happened was something he wanted. Starting from the not-so-smooth seduction and ending with making her come. Three times. Not to be smug or anything. He wanted her. Full stop.

And now, having gotten the taste, Neil also knew that the desire would not stop there. She would not be just a box on a checklist, ticked and forgotten. Cupid was not someone he could forget. Even with the current prognosis, which was not optimistic. Because she laid out the modus operandi from day one. There would be no fantastic love story culminating with a kiss in the rain in the middle of Piccadilly Circus. Not even because of the high risk of being run over by a car.

Yet, still, being an idiot, Neil could not help but think. About her. About their evening. About how it felt. About what he wanted to happen next. All the while knowing that not much could happen beyond it. And nothing without Cupid’s will and desire for it. That knowledge did not help the thoughts or dilemmas playing out in his head.

With another heavy sigh, Neil got up from the sofa and walked over to the radio to put on music. If he was to suffer, he might as well do so with the accompaniment of bops. In the truest meaning of the word. Yet, the algorithm must have held a grudge against him, too, for he barely managed to down the remains of his coffee before trouble started. It all came crashing down with the voice of Simon Le Bon and a song Neil knew too well. Usually, he enjoyed it. Usually, there was nothing particularly stinging about this song. Usually, the opening synths and the bass rhythm did not elicit a groan and make him hide his face in his hands. Usually.

‘And you wanted to dance, so I asked you to dance

But fear is in your soul

Some people call it a one-night stand

But we can call it paradise

Don't say a prayer for me now

Save it 'til the morning after’

When the bridge came, along with the final chorus of the damned song, Neil was seething. Be it with rage or utter frustration. The accuracy of what was so beautifully sung by Duran Duran did not escape his attention. Or the fact that this was the first one-night stand he could not just let go. The first time, Neil was wallowing in self-pity and confusion at the state of his feelings and thoughts because of a hook-up.

Or what was supposed to be just a hook-up.

The problem was Neil was beginning to worry it was not just that. That it couldn’t be. And it was a terrible realisation to have. It made him want to be hit by a car on Piccadilly Circus. Or on the Oxford Street. He was not picky.

Quietly cursing every star on the firmament and the sparks in Cupid’s eyes, he reached for the phone and automatically opened the text conversation with the woman in question. Their last texts offered no respite from the suffering with how she bid him a good night after Neil informed her that he had found his way back home unscathed. It took him another two minutes to get his shit together and dial the number with a press of the correct icon on the screen.

Feeling the heartbeat in his throat as he awaited her to pick up the call, Neil stood up from the sofa and began pacing the living room. The seconds stretched into infinity, almost making him talk himself into ending the attempt and blaming the call on a mistake. Before he could act on the cowardice coursing in his veins, the click on the line followed by her voice acted like a heavy curtain, shutting off every doubt and uncertainty until all that remained was Cupid:

“Hi,” the breathlessness in her voice made it seem like she was not anticipating the call.

As if it caught her by surprise. Neil winced against the observation, forcing himself to reply.

“Hello. How are you?” even to his ears, the innocent question sounded strained.

It betrayed the motifs before he was ready to disclose them. His pacing has brought him to the window, so he stayed there, leaning against the sill.

An intake of breath from Cupid broke the silence before she replied:

“Good, great even. Achy as fuck, but then I got up to stuff last night, as you’d know” the slight nervousness in her quiet giggle sounded off, out of place among the implications.

The infuriating blush Neil did not seem able to get rid of even when closer to the age of thirty, made an appearance again. It bloomed across his cheekbones like weeds, making him hang his head with shame despite being the only one present in the room. Ever so helpful, his bitch of a brain chose this moment to show him a reel of last night’s events. Cupid underneath the stage lights, dancing with grace in every step. Her laughter upon the streets of Soho. The feel of her naked skin underneath his hands. The taste of her upon his tongue- Yeah, message received.

“Yeah, I was there” the ridiculous feeling of pride entered the crowded stage of his heart.

Before Neil could attempt to shrug it off, Cupid spoke again:

“You were. I remember you” her tone lowered almost imperceptibly, yet enough so Neil would notice. The low timbre spread across his chest with warmth as she added, “Vividly” the emphasis made everything worse as it awakened the exact shade of yearning he wanted to banish for eternity “Neil, I know you didn’t just call me to ask how my morning is going” the matter-of-fact turn in her voice was the wake-up call he needed.

It reminded Neil about the true purpose of the call and what he needed to say. Now, ideally. He took another deep breath, aware of the prolonged silence on the line and the rapid beat of his heart. It took him another second to convince convincing himself to speak the words into existence. All with the grace of an elephant stumbling over the vowels and tripping on the consonants:

“No... But it’s- I’ve never done this before. I had one-night stands, but not with someone like you” the ending came out in a rush as Neil tried to get it out as fast as possible without further embarrassment.

Although he knew that it was too late for those kinds of worries anyway. He was already a personification of shame in all meanings of the word.

The laugh he expected from Cupid upon such a pathetic display did not come. Instead, he got a quiet huff, which was hard to interpret with his lacklustre detective skills and a question carried on a soft tone:

“Not with a friend?” to Neil’s surprise, she did not sound judgemental or sarcastic, as if making a joke on his expanse.

Admittedly, it was what he anticipated, knowing how the sentence sounded and what it conveyed. Knowing what a loser he was, confessing the facts instead of pretending to be someone he was not. Instead of doing what he usually did.

For whatever reason, Neil increasingly often found that he did not want to pretend with Cupid. He particularly enjoyed those moments when it felt like she saw him and enjoyed the picture revealed. It was at once terrifying and exhilarating. It was what made him turn on the heel to press his back against the wall by the window and slide down to sit on the floor, risking yet another admission:

“Yeah, exactly. And like- It was amazing. It really was, but now I’m… I’m so… confused” the word hardly covered the state of his mind since waking up, but it had to do for now.

Somehow, Neil knew she would understand. She would find meaning within the stammers and pauses, interrupting the incoherent reasoning. She was smart like that.

Because the clue of the matter was that there were no regrets. No particle of his soul that wished last night did not happen. It’s just that he didn’t know what was coming next. If anything at all.

“I get it. It’s uncharted territory for you” once Cupid spoke again, Neil tried to determine her feelings on the topic from her voice. There was nothing to interpret apart from thoughtfulness and the desire to understand. To understand him, of all people. A feat few attempted and even fewer succeeded at, “From my point of view, nothing has to change between us. But I don’t think last night has to be a one-off. It could happen again” the meaning of her words took a while to sink, and even longer to be processed by his brain, slowed by incompetence and whatever charm she had him under. When it did, Neil sat up straighter, a rare sense of excitement tugging at his gut and making him open his eyes wider “If you wanted it to” the addition was almost a footnote.

Because, of course, he wanted to. He would be a fool not to. Right?

The enthusiastic reply was almost at the tip of his tongue, but the remains of dignity stepped in at the right time. Instead, Neil let the silence speak, taking a moment to ask the second most terrifying question. If not the first.

“And what about you?” the fate of his self-respect was placed upon the pedestal made of four words.

Ready to be crumbled with just one sleigh of her hand. While Neil knew Cupid enjoyed what he did to her (and with her), there was no guarantee. No way of knowing without asking her first. Now, all he could do was wait.

Wait and listen to her breathing through the phone, trying and miserably failing at not hanging upon each exhalation as if it were a sentence determining the rest of his life. Luckily, Cupid was not the one to make him wait in misery for too long.

“I’d definitely want a repeat” the certainty in her voice felt like a rush of blood to his head.

It was tinted with that shade of playfulness he considered her trademark. It was barely there, but still, it made everything easier. Brighter.

Now Neil did not even try to fight off the grin from his face as he asked:

“Yeah?” it was just another lousy trick to make her confirm what should have been obvious but was not.

At least not to his stupid brain, burdened with the eternal fear of not being enough. Ever. For anyone. Not even as a friend that you occasionally shag.

“Yes,” Cupid did not hesitate, humouring him joyfully.

Or at least that is how Neil interpreted the light chuckle that followed the reply. It eased the burden a little, but soon he found another pressing question that needed answering. Should they continue… whatever it was that was happening. Phrases like the infamous ‘friends with benefits’ started floating around his head, but for the time being, Neil brushed them away.

“So, if we did… do it again, what are the ground rules?” the clumsy wording was something he could do without, but alas, there was no choice.

He could only hope that Cupid would ignore the failure. It was the very next thing he needed to settle. The rules of play, per se. It was a completely new territory for him, something he had never done or entertained because there was no reason to. No person was worth the confusion. But now- Yeah, now there was. And Neil had no fucking clue how it all made him feel. Or whether he was not making the mistake of his life by even considering the concept. Still, he ignored the idea as Cupid broke the silence with a factual voice:

“No staying over afterwards for the night, and you must tell me if you find someone to be with for real. I don’t want to be the mythical other woman” the business-like tone suggested what Neil already knew – this was not the first time for her.

Far from it. He added a strange pinprick of jealousy to the ongoing list of feelings and thoughts to be ignored and rested his forehead against his folded knees.

The simplicity of the do’s and don’ts was undeniable. Still, it was impossible to tell how bad of a decision it would be on the endless spectrum of ‘ways to fuck up’ that Neil knew too well. From experience.

“Okay,” he nodded, although she would not see it and risked another question. To calm the running thoughts before they escaped his control entirely, “Is it fine if I think about it for a while?”

The pros were easy to think of. If he agreed, this one night would not have to be the only time Neil would have her. He could keep acting on what came to him so effortlessly when near Cupid. He could touch and kiss her as he pleased, whenever he wanted, without first worrying whether it would destroy their friendship.

But the cons were not hard to come by either. Adding sex into the equation often destroyed the friendship on its own. Neil was not sure whether he could trust himself to be as detached emotionally as the situation required him to be. He would never actually have her. Not that he wanted to. Because he didn’t. He didn’t.

“Sure thing, sunshine. We don’t have to change anything right now” her steady reassurance stopped the increasingly frantic thought processes and filled his chest with warmth.

Neil never knew he was a fan of nicknames. Of being called sunshine. But apparently, he was.

The sudden wave of peace settling over his head was the only sign that the conversation was successful. He has reached at least some sort of clarity. Even if he still had no clue what the hell he was supposed to do.

“I’ll see you Wednesday. Like always?” the pathetic edge to that question did not escape him.

But it was impossible to end the call without asking. Without checking whether Neil had something to look forward to. Without ensuring that they were okay.

At this point, Neil did not even try to pretend that Wednesdays did not become his favourite day of the week. For absolutely no reason.

“Yeah, you will” the internal debate about whether he actually could hear her wink got quickly interrupted by Cupid’s question, “And Neil?” a noncommittal hum had to do instead of a reply, what with his brain becoming a lost cause. Still, it was impossible not to wait on her addition with bated breath and heartbeat thundering in his ears. You know, like a normal person would “You know I can’t offer you a relationship, but what we have still means a lot to me. It’s not every day that I have sex this good with my best friend” this time, Neil could definitely hear the sly smile in her voice.

That strange smugness and pride returned to fill his chest with warmth and painted a grin on his face. It was the highest of praises. Both because Cupid admitted that whatever they had was worth her time and attention and because she confirmed that the previous night was… satisfying. It was a challenge not to let that get into his head, successfully distracting Neil from any other thought he could have had.

He was a simple man, alright? One spoonful of praise placed at his feet, and he was done for. In all meaning of the word.

“No?” the joy was audible in his voice as he risked a tease, “I’m such a lucky bastard, then” it was barely an overstatement.

Even if it all was to backfire spectacularly and bite him in the ass soon, Neil felt lucky. Lucky that Cupid wanted to waste her time on him. Even for a wink of her time.

And yes, he knew he sounded like a pathetic simp. He was aware of it, thank you very much.

“You are” her laughter still rang in his ear as she whispered a necessary goodbye, “I’ll talk to you soon,” for once, Neil felt no need to question her promise.

No reason to doubt.

“Bye, Cupid,” his farewell was met with another chuckle before the woman in question ended the phone call.

Slowly, Neil put down the phone and raised his head to stare at the ceiling. The white paint was occasionally spruced up with cobwebs, reminding him just how long had passed since he had last deep cleaned the apartment. A sigh had to do before Neil got up from the floor and turned up the music.

Duran Duran had nothing on him now. Surely.

#neil tenet #tenet movie #tenet #tenet 2020 #neil tenet x reader #neil tenet fanfic #neil x reader #neil tenet imagine #tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson x you #robert pattinson x y/n #robert pattinson imagine #deadlines & commitments

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neutron-stars-collision · 1 year

Text

Deadlines & Commitments

Neil x F!Reader

Chapter 1 - Stratford Underground Station

Masterlist Summary: Everybody knows anything can happen on London tube. That includes meeting a handsome stranger with a strange name, who doesn't mind saving a ballerina in distress. Chapter playlist Warnings: Swearing and E-rated language (as the preview already shows). Author's Notes: So it's finally here, my opus magnum. Or so I hope. As I've hinted before, this project is the love-child of a few things - my unfading obsession with Neil, fascination with London and the love of public transport. Or something along those lines. I've no idea how long it'll be, or the exact details of what's going to happen, but I know that it's going to be fun. For both me, and them. And you, too, I hope. Chapter titles come from station names (in case you've been wondering) and I decided to go wild and attach a short, chapter-centric playlist to each of them, because why not. Enjoy and please, let me know what you think 💕 Taglist: @hollandorks, @kristevstewart, @stargirl25 (let me know if you want to be added)

The discovery that it would be a day came a mere two hours after the harsh sound of your phone alarm. Its harbinger took the form of Liam – a moderately tall, dark-haired man with an acceptable face and an ability to make you come that did not seem to get the hint.

Instead, he continuously nagged you for days after the (absolutely intended) ghosting you have implemented. While you would admit it was harsh, it was also not your fault that you had enough of him after the hook-up no 5. It was just fine, nothing spectacular and, most importantly, it was getting predictable. Solution? Ending the situationship before it could become a chore rather than a pleasure. Problem? Liam did not seem to think the same.

So, when, this morning, you finished the lukewarm coffee and picked up the phone to check the socials before leaving, only to find another string of texts with pathetic emojis, the mood has soured. It was nothing new, just more hearts, pleading eyes and invocations to your goodness, all culminating in the same way. With another proposition of date, with another love confession he could not have possibly meant. This time, you’ve had enough. You ignored the urge to smash the phone and instead broke the silence by sending him a simple message – Fuck off. With that, you let out a string of curses that probably made poor Miss Stevens next door recoil in disgust and blocked Liam. The triumphant spark did not outweigh the annoyance, however.

The second blow of the day came not that much later and could also easily be blamed on Liam. Or so it was easier to believe. There was no sense of distraction as you tied up the ribbons of your pointe shoes and started warming up. And, at first, it was all just as it was supposed to. You welcomed the opening notes of the coda enthusiastically, happy to go through the steps just as you were supposed to be. As you were taught. A turn after turn, the burning in your legs felt like a benediction. That was what you were always supposed to do.

Until it started to feel different.

One misstep was instantly noticed by Jane, who danced alongside you, perfecting the same choreography. You could hear her quiet gasp, wordlessly pointing out the mistake you would never have missed anyway. In a split second, you knew it was enough to throw you off, losing the tempo and balance, barely managing not to sprain your ankle and topple onto the parquet. Refusing to look at Jane, you slid down the wall by the barre and let out a frustrated groan. Not long after that, you decided to check out of the studio. One humiliation was quite enough.

By the time you had set onto Southwark station, intending to catch the tube back home, you were half contemplating unblocking Liam to sue him for mental damages. And the cost of reparations of your dignity. It seemed like a fair deal, considering everything. On autopilot, you descended the steps to the station, welcoming the cooling air of the metal-plated hall. While the whiteish subway tiles in most stations felt like home, the futuristic tinge of Southwark had always felt special. Even if the afternoon bustle could sour your mood and make you throw daggers at any human in your path. There was a dose of relief in the knowledge that it had already been done. You were pissed off beyond measure.

Any innocent bystander could probably see it in the angry square of your shoulders as you strode through the ticketing hall and past the gates. After all those years, there was no need to check the signs; your body knew where to go. Down the escalator, following the graphite signage leading towards the correct platform. Once you were there, you looked up at the timing screen to check the ETAs. Stanmore 2 mins. Thank fuck. Moving down the platform like god intended, you got lost in the chaotic ambience. Sometimes, especially on those difficult days, the noise was better than any music you could listen to. The babbling children, the chatting adults, and, if you were lucky, an odd bark or two in between. That, combined with the PA overhead, was enough to ground you. To take in that deeper breath.

Only that tell-tale whoosh of the approaching train could pull you back into the moment, the body yet again taking the needed steps without you ever telling it to. One step back, not crossing the yellow line. Two steps to the side, aligning with the platform edge doors, yet not standing in the way of those leaving. By the time the train arrived, you were exactly where you were supposed to be. A surveying look inside the cart told you the crowds had been avoided. Luckily. With only a handful of people occupying the space, you stepped aboard and zoned in on one of the empty seats by the window.

It was then that fate chose to intervene again.

You barely stepped in the right direction before the train started again, the sudden movement throwing you off balance and making you drop the bag hung precariously on your shoulder. You watched it fall, unzipped pouch spilling the insides onto the dirty grey floor. Another string of curses lodged in your throat as you knelt among the wreckage of personal items. Before you could reach for the notebook, another hand appeared on the edge of your vision. Long, fair-skinned fingers met yours over the moleskin cover, making you look up and follow the outline of a person. Up over the legs, clad in black jeans and over the bare forearms, revealed by the rolled-up sleeves of a dress, pinstripe shirt. Until you met the striking blue eyes of the man kneeling in front of you, having joined the fray. The stranger stared back, his piercing gaze roaming over your features, seemingly just as struck as you were.

A beat passed, and neither of you moved. You glanced up, taking note of the dirty blonde hair falling over his forehead in disarray. The announcement over the system began calling up Waterloo. It was the wake-up you both seemed in need of. He was the first to shake off the stupor, snatching the notebook to place it in your waiting palm. He shot you a friendly smile, the expression brightening his stunning features.

“Bad day?” his husky voice was another pleasant surprise, shooting through your brain like the restart to the systems you seemed to have been missing.

You looked up to find him one step ahead again. There was something mysterious in his handsome face, instantly making you forego the suspicions against strangers. This one did seem at all dangerous.

At least, you hoped he wasn’t.

A sardonic smile invited itself onto your face. For the first time since the morning, the expression was not forced.

“You could say that” picking up the bag, you accepted the belongings he had collected from the floor and hoped to convey the gratitude through a simple word “Thanks,”

“No worries. Hope that’s everything…” the stranger threw a final glance at the cart floor and got up, brushing the dust off his knees.

The nagging feeling in the back of your head did not ease off, helping you decide what the next step should be. After all, there was no reason to cut the interaction short. One glance out the window told you there was still time. The train had just left the Waterloo station, giving you at least a quarter of an hour till you had to get off.

Perhaps, that was your sign from the petty destiny to get your shit together. Strictly speaking.

“Looks like it,” dropping the remaining items into the pouch, you extended your hand in greeting, “I’m Y/N,” raising your head to find his gaze, you were welcomed with yet another bright smile.

Judging by the lines around his mouth and crinkles in the corners of his eyes, your mysterious saviour did smile a lot. The realisation only strengthened the conviction, pulling you into his orbit effortlessly.

His warm palm engulfed yours in a firm handshake. It lasted just a second too long, yet no complaints were to be raised.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Neil,” the gleam in his eyes was like the poisoned edge of a dagger, a fatal weapon to strike you down should you be reckless.

You knew for sure that face would be hard to forget. Even if you were to never see it again after today.

“You don’t look like a Neil,” catching onto the peculiarity of his name, you shot him a cheeky smile.

Finally remembering what started the ordeal, you took the seat you had been hovering over and motioned for Neil to join you. He did not hesitate.

It only made you like him more.

“Elaborate, please,” the curious tint in his voice, completed by a deadpan look, made you grin, unable to defy his charm.

Not that you were trying to, anyway.

Making a show of giving yourself time to think of an answer, perfected by the loud hum and a hand stroking your chin, you measured him critically. Still amazed by the man Transport for London put on your path. By the seemingly faultless features, harsh lines of his cheekbones and the kind eyes that still held uncertainty that you were all too familiar with.

“You know… a little more geriatric. A little less dashing,” you sent Neil a wink, watching with fascination as the pinkish blush spread over his cheeks.

That sort of reaction was always a compliment. A sign that you should keep going because it could only get better. The frustrating morning had been almost forgotten, having stood no chance against the unpredictability of the interaction.

You could see Neil process the compliment with rapidly blinking eyelids and a parted mouth. Westminster had been called before he spoke again:

“That’s a new one, but I’ll take it,” the blush had faded slightly, yet the disbelief in his pretty eyes told you he was not used to the flattery.

Which was a surprise considering the way he looked. But that, like all the other discoveries you had made within minutes, would have no application. You would likely never see him again.

“You should. I don’t hit on complete strangers every day,” you sent him a pointed look, meaning every word and hoping Neil would see that.

The amused smile he cracked along with a chuckle, were the rewards for the risks you had taken. Being that forward with a stranger could backfire terribly. You had first-hand experience of that. This time, though, no alarm bells were to be heard as you waited for Neil’s response, with your gaze fixed on his face. If only because it was hard to look away.

“Now I’m flattered,” the sparks in his blue eyes burned bright as he took a cursory look out the window and then back to face you with complete focus, “So… do you want to tell me about your day?” the lack of judgement in his gaze helped you decide before you even knew you were considering it.

Usually, confiding in random people met on the tube sounded like a bad idea. Not entirely off-brand for your poor judgements, but still. But this interaction was anything but usual. The temptation was too big to be ignored. You twisted in the plastic seat to face him properly and channelled the anger dormant beneath your skin. It was all too easy to do.

“There’s this guy… We’ve had sex a couple of times, and it was quite good, but now he wants more, and I- I’m not even sure I believe love exists, let alone feel that way about him. Trouble is he doesn’t get the hint, so…” becoming aware you unloaded the whole speech without taking a break to breathe, you took a greedy inhale and spit out the conclusion with a frustrated huff, “He’s just pissed me off” it was a lot.

You could tell Neil was slowly coming to the same conclusions from the dumbfounded look on his face as he processed your rant. He blinked, unseeingly staring at the Jubilee line plan above the opposite seats. The apology was ready on the tip of your tongue when he finally spoke again:

“Overeager?” the sympathetic wince in his face made that same affection stir in your heart.

All because he understood. He got it. And that was rare. Yet again, you contemplated unblocking Liam. This time, to send him Neil’s phone number with an annotation – This guy gets it. He can explain.

But it was hard to say whether Neil would be up for such a task.

“Mm, yeah,” you offered him a tight-lipped smile and a nod, confirming the theory.

“Sorry,” it was your turn to suffer through a double take.

With incredulity filling every inch of your soul, you stared at him in confusion:

“What for?” as the train arrived at another station, you glanced up to check you had not somehow missed your stop.

But it was fine. There was still enough time to continue what was slowly becoming the most fascinating conversation of the previous couple of months, if not years.

It was Neil’s turn to be amused. His eyes roamed over your face as his lips quirked into a smirk. The cheeky expression sent your heart tumbling through the ribcage. You knew he could be dangerous. You were right. Again.

Yet, no sense of foreboding danger could make you look away. That was for the weak. Or the smarter.

“Being a representative of the male species,” Neil shrugged as if his answer did not leave you agape with amazement, “I know almost everything is our fault, one way or another,” the slight grimace passing through his face told you he knew that was an understatement.

But it was better than nothing. Better than the load of self-entitlement and egocentrism displayed by most of the men you had ever met. It sure did set him apart.

“Guess that’s true,” nodding in agreement, you chose to forego the subtlety and reached out to pat his hand, “Thank you, though,” yet met his eyes, not trying to hide the extent of impression he had left on you “I can already tell you’re a better representant of the species than Liam,”

The fading anger at that man seemed so distant now. Like a dream that you could no longer remember, except for how it made you feel. Liam would stay blocked and hopefully never seen again, but now you could finally see yourself having a pleasant evening. That felt like a reward in itself.

“And he’s called Liam? Good god,” Neil’s dismayed tone was the one to bring you back to the present.

The smile played in the corner of his lips. The amused expression was fast becoming your favourite. Which could be problematic, but you were never the one to search your soul if that was uncalled for. Which it definitely wasn’t.

“I know” sharing an eye-roll with your companion, you chose to focus the attention on that second part of the shit day, “The other thing that happened was how I fucked up the ballet practice” almost automatically, you winced, self-consciously rolling the right ankle as if feeling the phantom pain of the twist that never came (thank god) “But it also can be blamed on him,”

Too caught up in the thoughts of vengeance you would never actually implement, you missed Neil’s surprise, reflecting through the widened eyes and an intense stare boring through your temple.

What you did not miss was a question uttered with so much disbelief that your head swivelled in its direction faster than you thought possible:

“Hold on, ballet practice?” Neil’s scrunched-up face, complete with a frown between eyebrows and mouth agape, was the reason for your giggle.

“Yup, I’m a ballerina at the Royal Ballet,” there was an unusual sense of pride in the proclamation.

Probably because it had been a long time since you got a reaction this stunned. You did not remember the last time someone looked starstruck when hearing about your occupation.

“I’ve never met one before,” his blue eyes still roamed over your face with amazement as Neil confirmed the obvious.

While attention was always pleasant and a reason you got into professional ballet in the first place, this kind of focus felt different. It made the rare blush dust your cheeks as joy surged in your veins from the sheer force of being noticed. From being seen through the best you could offer rather than the multitude of shortcomings that were all easy to find.

“Well, now you have,” you opened your arms in the ta-dah motion and added, “A second soloist, to be exact,” the hierarchical promotion was still an additional point of pride.

A result of years of practice and mental conditioning to try and improve. The culmination of hours of pep talks, pleading to your strength not to give up. To keep on trying. A proof that you were good enough. But it was also a reminder that you were not there yet. That there was still more to achieve.

“I’ve no clue what that means,” the apologetic tone in Neil’s voice was another reason for a smile.

Without thinking, you nudged his shoulder with yours and grinned upon noticing the bashful blush creeping back onto his cheeks. That alone was a reason to delve into the explanation:

“That I’ve still got a long way to go if I want to get promoted to principal dancer. Which is the dream,” hope waged war with scepticism as you chose to stare at the window opposite the seats, taking note of the passing darkness of the tunnels outside. That moment of wistfulness inspired the next thing you said, “You could come to see me if you wanted to,” it was another risk taken.

Another potential to end the conversation prematurely by misjudging the limit. Before you could find the tenacity to see the reaction, Neil’s question got rid of the doubts:

“Are you hitting on strangers again?” the smile in his voice was matched by a cheeky grin on his face.

The brightness in his eyes told you he was enjoying the conversation, that it was not just you who been silently wishing for more time. For more opportunities to continue the back-and-forth, testing the limits of what was acceptable within an unusual connection like yours. Because, surely, there were limits. Right?

“You’re not a stranger anymore, Neil,” instead of searching for the lines drawn in the metaphorical sand, you laid a careful hand on his shoulder and watched with the breath caught in your chest as he glanced at it and back at your face. The only indication that too was not a misstep was the darkening shade of pink on his cheeks and the persistent smile, motivating you to land a double strike, “I am, though. Is that bad?” innocently batting your lashes, you signed off the move with a quick stroke of fingers, tracing the collar of Neil’s shirt.

He swallowed hard, clearly reacting to your risqué move. The goosebumps rose on his skin following your touch, making your smile widen. Unwilling to stop the fascinating game just yet, your fingertips skimmed down the front of his shirt to strengthen the invisible lines in the collar and encircle the tortoiseshell button. As your fingers drifted ever so closer to the bared sliver of the chest revealed by the two buttons left undone, Neil gasped and met your searching gaze with an intense look of his own. It was easy to see the curiosity there, brewing underneath the composure. Not for the first time since you met, you wondered what else was hiding behind that steel-like grip of control. What else was there to discover?

“I’m not complaining,” answering your question with ease, Neil did not flinch away from your taxing gaze.

It was good to know. Just because.

Unable to look away, you realised that your hand was outstretched with the fingers lightly touching the collar of his shirt. The heat from his skin radiated onto your palm, making your fingers flex unconsciously. It was your turn to swallow against the sudden dryness in your throat, as yet again you found yourself arrested by his gaze. Like then, the time seemed frozen, leaving you stranded between one heartbeat and the next. You were content to stay there.

Only the familiar announcement over the PA system could wake you up. The train is now approaching St. John’s Wood. Your body jolted awake with the curse ready on your tongue:

“Shit, that’s my stop” a spiteful glance at the darkness of the tunnels outside was a reflex, born out of the annoyance for the world that did not seem to care about your happiness or the desire to stay in that Jubilee line train cart till the very end of times. The anger passed quickly, yet you knew the frustration would persevere long after you made it home. The only way to push back against it was to turn your focus back to Neil, “It’s been a pleasure. I’d say I won’t forget you, but I’m not sure I can promise that,” the exaggeration in the statement, and the knowledge that it was unlikely you would forget him, were better left unsaid.

As much as the chance meeting was everything you never dreamt of experiencing, it was just that. A pleasant outlier. The one-off happening, that would never happen again. You could feel the sharp prickle of that realisation stab at your consciousness as you checked whether all your belongings were accounted for and got up from the seat. The train was slowing in the approach at the platform, forcing you to grab onto the nearest railing.

“Try your hardest,” Neil’s response made you whip your head back up to stare at him in confusion until the meaning of his words caught up.

Then you could only grin, willing to stretch the limits one last time.

“Or?” the question was accompanied by the tip of your tongue running over your lower lip as your eyes traced Neil’s gaze.

He caught the hook. The intrigue and hunger in his stare proved the point as he glanced at your mouth, not even trying to resist the obvious trick. You were glad it worked.

One look at the world beyond told you there was no time to lose. The familiar voice called out to make sure everyone minded the gaps, and you could not help but throw one final glance at Neil. His dirty blonde strands caught the fluorescents and created a washed-out halo-like effect. The blue eyes were still fixed on you, observing and calculating. Yet again, a wayward thought begged you to stay. To say fuck it and check what could happen if you had more time. But the courage was not quite there when the train came to a stop, and the doors slid open.

Before you could take that decisive step outside, Neil replied:

“I’ll be disappointed,” the smile in his voice was an easy trigger, bringing a breathless chuckle to your lips.

You still laughed as the doors closed behind you and the train started moving away from the platform. You did not look back, letting the crowd of commuters carry you along the tunnels and towards your apartment. It was better that way.

Only once you got back home did you realise one crucial fact. One simple observation easily missed in the rush of thoughts about striking blue eyes and sharp cheekbones. It had been hours since Liam crossed your mind. And somehow, it all made sense.

#neil tenet #tenet movie #tenet 2020 #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet fanfic #neil tenet imagine #tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson x y/n #robert pattinson imagine #deadlines & commitments

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