Fitz and the Machine, part 2
Who: Fitz and Farrah, with Gwen hanging about eating the free food What: Pre-launch of Fitz's new record company. Farrah 1) remembers Fitz is vaguely famous, and 2) hears him sing for the first time. When: July's Friday the Thirteenth Where: Purgatory's VIP Lounge, then Fitz's apartment Warnings: NSFW sexytimes. Sans Gwen, naturally.
“Yeah, I guess I’ll give it a shot,” Gwen said. With Farrah to encourage it, she found she was more open to the idea. Besides, Gwen tried, but she didn’t spend as much one-on-one time with the boys as she did with the girls. They could do with a few role models. Especially if those role models were non-human and not flinching in disgust at the sight of them. “Can’t let all that muscle go to waste.”
“Indeed,” Farrah said with a nod. She should probably tell Fitz more about Gwen’s situation with the orphanage, too. No doubt he’d do something gallant, like provide the kids with a music room or something. “Plus he’s testosterone-y enough that the little boys will be impressed and the little girls will think he’s magic. Or something.”
Gwen laughed. “He is,” she said. “He’s a fire elemental. That’s magical, isn’t it?” Plus, he was a tough, manly fireman. Firemen always went over well.
She was feeling a little bit dizzy from all the champagne, but it was a nice kind of dizzy, more floating than swooping. Still, she figured she’d take a break from drinking for a little bit and eat more. She lazed back on her chair, and nudged Farrah’s foot with her own. “Thanks for bringing me,” she said, not remembering if she’d already told her that. Couldn’t hurt to say it again.
“Oh, right,” Farrah said at the mention of Dex being a fire elemental. Sometimes she forgot there was more to her sister’s boyfriend than a pair of greasy, too big hands he seemed intent on putting all over her little sister. “Well, might want to tell him to keep that power to himself at the orphanage. Don’t want him getting excited and setting fires all over the place. That might cause the nuns to stroke out.”
When Gwen nudged her, she smiled. “You’re welcome, sweetie,” Farrah said. “Thank you for coming. I would’ve been miserable here by myself.”
Gwen decided it would be better not to tell Farrah that Dex had been plenty excited around Gwen and managed to stop from burning the boat down. Instead she just shrugged. “Oh, you’d have made friends, I think,” she said. “Wonder how many people would think getting on your good side would be a career advantage? I hope Fitz knows which of these people are creeps and losers and which are the real deal.” Probably.
“Probably,” Farrah said after a minute. Fitz seemed sweet by default, but he was a successful business man, and that didn’t happen when someone was naive. “I’m not sure how long he’s been doing this,” she gestured to the crowd, “but hard to be in here for five minutes and not think of it as shark infested waters.” She picked up the little cupcake Gwen had offered her earlier and had a bite. “This food is amazing. Fitz was back there eating cold roast beef when I busted in.”
“Jealoussss,” Gwen said. “Of the roast beef, I mean.” She had a reputation for being hungover the next day and eating food without the energy to even zap it in the microwave, and she could vouch for the goodness that was cold roast beef. “I hope they saved him some of the hors d’oeuvres though. You at least let him finish eating, right? Or was starving him part of your power play?”
“I let him finish eating,” Farrah said with a laugh. “Poor guy. He’s really very put upon, I’m sure. Trying to shove cold food in his mouth while his girlfriend attacks him with hands. He seemed to take it well, though.” She winked at Gwen, then stretched. She’d be happy to have some time with him, that was for sure.
“Poor bastard. Make sure you let him get some sleep tonight,” Gwen said. It must suck, having a boyfriend that busy. Dex never seemed to have anything going on besides work and drinking, and she could always tag along on the latter if she wanted to. She supposed in their relationship she was the one who would cite being busy. Though she probably had less of a reason than Fitz did to do that. “Don’t go all wildcat.”
“I’ll try to reign it in,” Farrah said with a nod. “Though I guess we’ll see. It’s been a while, you know. And when he holds out on me, I have to let the were loose, though I’m trying to mind that. The last time I leapt on him unexpectedly, there was a good period of awkward time afterwards. Our time is too crunched for that right now.”
“Well you leapt on him unexpectedly just now, didn’t you?” Gwen pointed out. “And you seem to be in a good mood. And not awkward.” She was also willing to bet that if she peered around the crowd to try to locate Fitz, he wouldn’t seem to be uncomfortable, either. “I think you have the green light for tonight.”
“I did,” Farrah said with a nod. “And he didn’t tell me to settle down or anything, so I think you’re right.” She bumped her knee against Gwen’s under the table. “Which is good, as I don’t really feel like playing it demure tonight. I’m not known for my patience.”
“No, I don’t think you are,” Gwen agreed. When the waiters came by, she happily refilled her plate, though she was nearing full. Well, Gwen didn’t care. When good food showed up under her nose, she took advantage of it. “I think the lack of those sorts of traits runs in the bloodline.”
“You’re right on that one,” Farrah said with a nod. She had consumed enough champagne in a short period of time that she was starting to feel tipsy, and she stretched languidly. Her body was still a little wound up from what she and Fitz had gotten into in the back room, but promise of future satisfaction combined with sitting and talking to her sister had quelled that a bit. “Good thing, too. I can’t imagine all the things I wouldn’t get done on a daily basis if I fucked around and pretended to be shy.”
“‘Well-behaved women rarely make history’,” Gwen quoted, picking bits of walnut off the top of her date square and eating them one by one. More dessert seemed to be making its appearance, now. Good. The nuns would have preferred that Gwen lead a more sedate lifestyle, but she would have none of it. They liked to cite Serafina, their main financier, but Gwen was always suspicious of that woman and could never really put a finger on why. Besides, she probably lived a wilder life than any of the nuns believed. They weren’t omnipotent, nuns, they just wanted you to think they were.
“Very true,” Farrah said, crossing her legs beneath the table and bouncing her foot in time to the music that was playing over the loud speaker. She was handed something that had a shit ton of whipped cream on top, and no matter what sort of bakery confection was beneath, Farrah was instantaneously pleased. “God, whipped cream is good on anything. I need to buy us some whipped cream vodka,” she said decisively. She was sure that, in addition to making movie nights with her sister more entertaining, she could find some uses for Fitz with it, too.
“I have never had that,” Gwen said, raising her eyebrows. “I’m an old-fashioned girl with my Southern Comfort and my Jack Daniels, though.” She had to agree, though, that anything with whipped cream on it was stellar, so she wasted no time in snagging a confection for herself, taking a moment to puzzle over how to eat it without giving herself a whipped cream beard.
“The boss wanted to get some for work, though I’m not sure if he ever ordered it,” she said, her brow wrinkling. “I should attempt to talk him into it. I’d like to try it without buying a whole bottle. Or can. Or however it’s served up.” Then again, the clientele for the Orchid was mostly men, who likely wouldn’t publicly enjoy whipped cream vodka, though she and the dancers would surely like it.
“I dunno. Even if it’s terrible, I’m sure we’d drink it anyway,” Gwen pointed out. That was what they did during nights in anyway, wasn’t it? Try to empty out the liquor cabinet? Her nose wrinkling a little in thought, she finally figured out she could turn the pastry at a diagonal and take a few bites of it from that direction. She was moderately successful and only got whipped cream on the tip of her nose. “This is amazing,” she said, staring at it, “but probably more fun to eat with a man around.”
Farrah laughed at that, looking at her own dessert with an amused shake of her head. The only way she could see to eat it with any sort of finesse would be to eat a good portion of the whipped cream off first, and since she was in a very fancy public place, that would require using a spoon. Which just did not seem to be the best way to eat whipped cream to her. It was serviceable, sure, and she was sure the whipped cream would still taste the same. But it would be much more fun to lick said whipped cream off Fitz’s mouth. Or maybe suck it from his finger. A shame indeed. “Maybe we should see if they have to go boxes,” Farrah joked. “Bring a few of them. Pack all the leftovers up. I’m sure they all know I’m Fitzwilliam’s plebeian girlfriend by this point. No one will be surprised.”
Gwen laughed at the use of the word plebeian. “Well he probably paid for all of it,” she pointed out. “Tell him you want to hand feed him some of the choicier bits and I’m sure it’ll all be packed up in a flash.” She craned her head around and caught a glimpse of Fitz, exchanging European-style kiss greetings with two women heartily in their fifties. “They look like he just gave them their first climax in three years,” she remarked.
Farrah craned her head to look, smiling at the sight of Fitz with the two older women. “I bet he did,” she said with a nod. “Older ladies love Fitz just as much as the little girls do. He’s such a boyish gentleman, or he comes off that way to them, I’m sure.” She turned back to Gwen and sighed a little, then licked a glob of whipped cream from her finger, manners be damned. “He probably made a few men question their sexuality earlier tonight, too.”
“Yeah, well, that’s what men like Fitzy are there for,” Gwen said. “You can put him up on the list with Johnny Depp and Michael Fassbender, no one would bat an eyelash. Actually,” she pondered. “He kind of looks like he could be related to Fassbender. Kudos.”
“Shew,” Farrah said, turning back to look at Fitz. Fassbender was a bit of a weakness for her as Gwen well knew, so that was actually very high praise. “Maybe through the mouth,” Farrah agreed. “They both smile like they have to show you all their teeth at once.” This was said very fondly, as Farrah actually loved Fitz’s smile. “Though it looks like his parents spent close to a million on making his teeth as perfect as possible, so smiling like that makes sense.”
“Boy’s got good bone structure,” Gwen said, yawning a little bit. She checked her watch, surprised. It was far later than she would have estimated, but that was what they said about having a good time, wasn’t it? It looked like the crowd was beginning to thin a little bit, too.
Farrah noticed that the crowd was beginning to thin as well, which made her happy. Hopefully when Fitz wasn’t being pulled in a million different directions he could make his way over, and they could finally head back to his place. She nodded at Gwen’s comment. “That he does,” she agreed and sighed a little, then forced herself to look away from him lest she be sitting there mooning or something equally undignified.
Gwen just smiled and went back to eating, though by now she was mostly just playing around with the food in a manner that was certainly not genteel but, then again, she wasn’t really trying to be. Let Farrah sink for a moment in her own thoughts. Gwen didn’t mind semi-silence.
She glanced up when she saw that Fitz was coming over, and smiled. “Great show,” she said. “The bits with you, especially.”
“I appreciate that, Gwen,” Fitz said. He didn’t sit down, just stood next to Farrah and rubbed his hand soothingly over her arm, not really greeting her in any other way than that, but he figured she would understand him.
Farrah tipped her head back and smiled up at him as she rested her cheek against his arm for a moment. “Yes, I agree. They should’ve saved you until last,” she told him, then continued. “Are they releasing you to my care now, or do you have more things to take care of?”
He looked down at her with a soft smile. “I don’t like playing at the end of the set,” he explained, smoothing his hand over the back of her neck. “And I’m free to go now, as it were.” He wasn’t going to say it, since it smacked of arrogance, but he was too important to stay until the very end. People needed to seek him out, not the other way around, or it put him into a less powerful position. In any case, his hirees could see to the details of the party winding down.
“Oh, good,” Gwen said, starting to gather herself up. “I was getting a bit tired. But the food kept me going. I hope you had some of the crab wontons. I think I died, went to heaven, and then was brought back to life with each bite.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Farrah said, even as she leaned into the way he rubbed at the back of her neck with a faint shiver. “Did you get some of this food? It was amazing. Especially the crab wontons. Gwen is right.” She also moved to gather her purse, then stood up beside him, looking over their table to make sure that she nor Gwen were forgetting anything.
“I had a bit. Not the wontons, though.” Fitz leaned over to kiss her cheek when she finally stood up, though he waited for her to be done looking around, of course. “We can bring some of it back, if you like, there’s too much out back. You can never tell with these gatherings, you never know when they’re going to eat everything because it’s free or decide they’re too cool to eat. The serving girls told me you two had the best appetites tonight.”
Farrah flushed a little bit at that and huffed a laugh, leaning against him slightly and winding her arms around his waist. “Oh dear. Yeah, we were plowing through the food,” she agreed. “And the champagne. It was just so delicious. Your servers stayed right on top of us, though.”
“They might have been biased,” Fitz said. Whether because they were polite or there specifically via Fitz, he wasn’t sure and didn’t particularly care. While Gwen was rifling through her purse to make sure she hadn’t dropped her lip gloss (and to ascertain she had a house key), Fitz motioned one of the caterers over and asked them to box some of the spare food and take it down to the cars, at least two, so Gwen could bring some home with her.
That finished, Fitz offered his arm to Farrah, and then Gwen. “I’ll walk down with both of you, I think,” he said. “So I can feel like Hugh Heffner.”
“Because we’re adorable and drunk girls are always more fun,” Farrah finished teasingly. “There has to be at least one too-drunk person at every get together, but because you’re so important, you got two. In the form of sisters, no less.” She hooked her arm through his, leaning into the warmth and firmness of his side and waited for Gwen to do the same. “If I’m going home with you, let us hope you’re less feeble than Hef this evening.”
“Not to worry,” Fitz said, sagely. He didn’t care that, once Gwen looped her arm through his other one, other people had to get out of the way to let them pass. Sometimes he felt like he wasn’t a big enough jerk - well, that he wasn’t really a jerk at all - and small bits of ridiculousness like this made up for it. “I take all of my vitamins. Also I’m a little bit younger.”
“Enough to make a difference, I hope,” Gwen said, stifling a yawn as they began to make their way downstairs. It was a good thing she’d decided to go home, since she was feeling pretty tired. Also smug, as she shot a few of the men who had been eyeballing her all night a few choice looks as she waltzed by with Fitz. That’s right, suckers.
Farrah was well aware that the three of them together, creating a wall that the remaining guests had to part for, made quite a spectacle, but she enjoyed it. She felt drunk and full and happy, doubly pleased that Gwen and Fitz got along as well as they did. Their easy politeness made her sometimes wonder if she should go out of her way to be nicer to Dex, but she always quickly put that idea to bed. She was nice enough to him, and if she’d ever attempted to adapt the easy teasing Fitz and Gwen could dish out with Dex, she’d likely grind her teeth to dust.
“Just a little bit younger,” Farrah agreed, squeezing his arm gently with hers. “Though mine and Gwen’s physical attributes are considerably more real than those of Hef’s girlfriends. And your wardrobe consists of more than pajamas and robes.” She nodded. “I think you officially have Hef beaten, Fitzy.”
Fitz kept his arm looped with Gwen’s polite and chaste, but he allowed his other hand to smoothe around Farrah’s waist after a moment, resting on her hip. Though he did have to doublecheck in a moment of paranoia, to make sure he hadn’t felt up the wrong sister.
“I don’t know, Hef has a mansion,” he pointed out. “And those pyjamas are really nice.”
“I bet you could have a mansion easily enough,” Farrah countered. “Though if you ever got rid of your lake house, I might have to be grumpy with you. Also, Gwen’s boyfriend would be homeless.” Of course, Farrah knew Fitz wouldn’t do such a thing. He needed the lake, and that was his parents property. “Surely a fancy apartment and a gorgeous lake house is equal to one playboy mansion.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s not,” Fitz said. “But I guess the Playboy Mansion has all sorts of miscreants going in and out every day. I really only have the one miscreant and I grew up with him, so.”
Once they were outside, there was already a pair of cars waiting. Gwen tried to arbitrarily pick one, but before she could even move someone was giving her a large, white box she could only assume was full of food. That, or delicious smelling bombs. Jesus, they worked fast. She had to untangle herself from Fitz to take it, but he probably wanted both hands for Farrah, anyway.
“Well, thanks for everything,” she said, standing on tiptoe to kiss Fitz on the cheek, before moving to hug Farrah. “I had a great time.” She figured it would be best not to linger, since they probably wanted to go home.
“Excellent point,” Farrah said to Fitz, then came to a stop in front of the cars. She smiled when Gwen kissed Fitz on the cheek, then let go of Fitz to wrap both arms around her sister and squeeze her tight. “Thanks for coming with me,” she told her, rubbing her back a little before letting go. “I love you. Be good and get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Gwen smiled. “You too,” she teased, before hopping into the first car, pleasantly surprised when the driver came out to actually open the door for her.
Fitz moved to open the door to the other car before the driver could, allowing Farrah to climb in first before following her. “Astor, please,” he said, once he closed the door (but not before being handed a parcel of his own to match Gwen’s. With his metabolism being what it was, he knew he ought to take it. Especially with Farrah over - he wouldn’t have time to make his own midnight snack). In the closed confines of the car he could better smell Farrah’s perfume, but he still leaned over and put his face to her neck, breathing it in.
The air conditioned confines of the car was a pleasant contrast to the heat and humidity outside, and when Fitz crawled in behind her she found herself turning toward him in the seat as much as she could. She tipped her head back, her hands slipping up and over his shoulders, one moving to cup the nape of his neck. “Did you have fun tonight?” She asked him, turning her head a little to press a kiss to his temple.
“Mmmn,” Fitz murmured, agreeably. But he would be hard-pressed to respond any other way when he had his face in Farrah’s neck, after all. “Well, enough, at least.”
“Good,” Farrah murmured softly, her fingernails gently scraping through the hair at his nape. She wanted to press herself even closer, maybe slip into his lap so she could be entirely surrounded by him, but the lack of privacy and space in the car kept her where she was. “You really did do so well tonight,” she continued. “I was so proud.”
Fitz smiled. He didn’t expect her to compliment him, not when so much of what he did took him from her, but he was pleased by and appreciated it. “It was nothing,” he said, moving to kiss her lightly on the mouth. “But thank you. I’m glad you came.”
She slid her hand from the nape of his neck to cup his jaw, her thumb lightly tracing over the shaved smoothness of his cheek as she kissed him. “I’m glad I came, too,” she said when the kiss broke, pressing her lips against his once more and sighing a little. She lifted her hand to smooth over his chest, feeling his skin through the open V in his shirt and smiling teasingly at him as she was reminded of something else . “Gwen said you almost gave her an orgasm when you sang and that I need to talk to you about being inappropriate with my sister.”
It was a testament to Fitz’s talents that when Farrah said that, he actually didn’t know if it was serious or in jest. For a moment, he felt incredibly awkward. As far as his voice went, he was a bit untrained, and not in the sense of whether he could hit a B or a B flat. A siren, for example, could control her talents, but since Fitz had never been raised with the intention of hypnotizing people so that they drowned, as his kind might have done in the past, there’d been no reason to fully hash everything out.
“Well,” he said, and paused, because he wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that safely. “Perhaps we shouldn’t invite her to any more events where I might be performing.”
“Awww,” Farrah said with a bit of a laugh when she saw how awkward he felt, and tipped his head back to gently press a kiss to his lips in comfort. “I was just teasing you,” she told him. “Gwen did say that, but I think she was joking, too.” She squeezed him. “Though you did have a very real effect on all the ladies present. Were those older ladies you were talking to before you came to get me hitting on you?”
“No. Well,” Fitz amended, running his hand lightly over her leg. “They were certainly very friendly. But not too friendly, you know. If they were, I can’t pretend it’s their fault, anyway.” It was a reason why he didn’t perform in public that much. One of them. He was happy to keep himself as a collaborator and producer, or working on instrumental music of his own.
Farrah smiled, though she dipped her head to nuzzle him. “Not their fault, hm?” She murmured. “Does that mean I can’t be held accountable for my actions where you’re concerned, either? Luckily for me, I’m your girlfriend. No one thinks much of it when I bombard you with hands, do they.”
“Girlfriends must always be held accountable. They’re sensible and clever and above all the silly things mere mortals are capable of,” Fitz teased, kissing her on the forehead. “Didn’t you know that? I’m surprised no one’s brought it up to you before.”
She smiled up at him, then moved to nuzzle his neck, her head resting on his shoulder. “I don’t have huge amounts of experience in being the girlfriend, Fitzy,” she told him teasingly. “So I bet that has gotten left out somewhere. I knew it was too much to hope that you’d come with an instruction manual.”
“There was a manual once, but I spilt gin on it,” Fitz said, squeezing her knee. “You’re a perfect girlfriend,” he said, seriously, a second later, laying his cheek to her hair, soft against his skin. “So I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”
Farrah squeezed him tighter at that, her face turning further into his neck as though she could hide from it. Jesus, if she could only be a normal girl. She’d never wished for such things until him. “I’m not, really,” she told him, then kissed his cheek. “Fitz, do you know how difficult it is for me to grow attached to men? You’ve accomplished quite a thing, here.That makes you a very special boyfriend indeed.”
“You are, really,” he said, disagreeing with her quite readily. As far as he was concerned, Farrah was perfect - it was he who had been failing her lately. And another woman might have pitched a fit by now and left him to sort things out, but Farrah had simply stated what she wanted. Some time together. Fitz would try to do that, even if it might be, as she said, only a few hours sleeping beside one another. “I suppose that means I’m special to have gotten you, though, at least,” he said, nuzzling her hair. He was glad that she had picked him, but was afraid to say it, worried that it might sound a bit too serious for her. He didn’t want to make her feel awkward, especially now.
She sighed a little at that, tipping her head back to look up at him and gently shake her head, though she was smiling. Even though it made her feel a bit guilty about all the wrong she’d done in her life, it was still far nicer than she’d ever imagined to be cared about by someone she cared for in return. “You say things like that, like I’m not going to have your pants off and you inside me as soon as I possibly can.” She was teasing him, as she knew he didn’t say things like that in order to get laid. At this point, sex was pretty much a given.
“The driver can hear you,” Fitz pointed out, amused. He moved to take her hand, turning it over, rubbing the pad of his thumb across her palm. “And I say things like that because they’re true,” he said. “Or it’s honestly what I think, in any case.”
Farrah shrugged, smiling at him. “Well, it’s true,” she whispered back, rubbing the tip of her nose against his, then gently squeezing his fingers where he held her hand. “I’m sure he’s not paying attention. And if he is, I’m sure he knows I’m taking you home with salacious intent. I have that look about me, I’m sure.” She brought his hand up to her mouth and kissed his nearest fingertip. “Also, you’re beautiful. There’s really only one outcome when our forces combine.”
“You have the look of salacious intent?” Fitz asked with a laugh, though his smile was almost tender when she moved to kiss his fingers. He could feel the car slowing to a stop and without looking up, knew that they had reached his apartment. He kissed her temple before beginning to carefully pull away from her. “Home,” he said, even though it was pretty self explanatory. He thanked the drive before climbing out, bringing the food with him, and automatically reaching in to help Farrah out of the car.
“Mmhmm,” Farrah said. “Isn’t that why you like me?” She straightened when he announced they were home, smoothing a hand over her hair and fixing her skirt before she took his hand and climbed out of the car. She craned her head back to look up at Astor, as always awed by how huge and luxurious the place was, as she had lived in a million apartments in her life with her mother, but none had ever been a fraction as nice as this. She’d thought about pricing apartments here when she’d first come back to Cambion, but she liked the stability of owning her own house. Permanence was a lovely thing.
“So,” she said as they walked through the lobby. “What’s the agenda, Mr. Carver? Food or baths or...?”
It was the kind of place that had a doorman but, thankfully, the man whose sole job appeared to be to push the elevator buttons for everyone else was mercifully absent (Fitz was convinced he was only employed to sate the snooty tastes of the people who lived on the far more luxurious floors than him). They had the elevator to themselves, and not that it was a long ride, but it was something.
“Or what?” Fitz teased. “What could you possibly mean by trailing off like that?”
“Something salacious, obviously,” Farrah teased back, leaning in to nuzzle at a spot just beneath his jaw. “Something that could perhaps involve my mouth on you. At some point.” She felt the golden handrail of the elevator digging into her back as she leaned against it, but she made no move to step away. “Just a slew full of options that I’m throwing out there so I know how to act accordingly when we’re in your apartment.”
“Oh, I see,” Fitz replied, dryly, though if he were to remain wholly unaffected by her he would be one hell of an actor, and he wasn’t. He turned to kiss her briefly before the elevator doors dinged open and they were on his floor.
Figuring being inside as soon as possible would be better than continuing endearing smalltalk out in the hall, he opened the door, turning the alarm system back on once they were inside. He set everything aside, including dropping his keys and wallet on the side table, before turning back to her and smoothing his arms around her. He could feel his tiredness weighing heavily on him, but he didn’t care.
“I was thinking we could start where we left off,” he suggested, in a soft, idle voice, smoothing a hand tellingly down over her hip and to her thigh.
Farrah followed him out of the elevator, taking a look around as they walked down the hall. She’d been here a few times before, of course, though they usually spent time together at his house by the lake, seeing as this was where he stayed when he was working. Inside the apartment, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed against him, making a low, soft noise as he smoothed his hand down over her hip.
She could sense his tiredness, and she found herself worrying about how well he was taking care of himself when he was working so much. She decided then that she would go out of her way to take care of him when she could, or at least to the extent his schedule would allow. “That sounds like a good place to start,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck, her hands dipping to smooth beneath his shirt and over his back.
Fitz nosed at her jaw before moving to scrape his teeth lightly over the curve of her ear. It was easy to recall again how she had stepped in on him while he had been hiding in the backroom. It made him feel good, to be reminded that she wanted him; it was easy to push such an idea to the side when he was busying himself working, and, in fact, made him feel less guilty if he considered the fact she might crave him as he did her.
His hand slipped around to lightly, ticklishly brush the inside of her thigh. Her hands on his bare back made him shiver, though they were far from cold. He dipped his head down and began to nip and suck at the side of her neck, tasting the faint salt of her skin.
Farrah sucked in a breath when he moved his lips to her neck at the same moment she felt his fingers slipping along her inner thigh, her head tipping back as she offered herself up to him. Her hands slid further up his back, allowing his shirt to bunch and gather about her forearms, dragging it up his body as she went. She wanted it off, obviously. Wanted him as naked as she could possibly get him, as she always did.
“Maybe we should move somewhere more sturdy,” she murmured, unsure as to how long her knees were going to hold her up if he kept touching her that way. She’d been in a state of aching since she left him in the back room, and that wasn’t doing much for keeping her wits or her balance about her.
Fitz lingered on her neck, though he couldn’t ignore the logic in her suggestion. He thought about letting the shirt come off, but also figured it would be best to wait until they were somewhere more convenient. Like the bedroom.
“Alright,” he murmured, pulling away from her. Not that she needed leading, but he took her hand regardless and gently tugged her to the bedroom, stopping only to flick the light on before bending to press his mouth against hers.
Farrah considered taking off her shoes for a moment, but the delicate little strap and buckle that fastened them around her ankles was sure to prove far too complicated for her compromised dexterity, so she left them alone. There were more pressing matters, like stripping Fitz of his shirt and his pants and making it to the bedroom without her knees buckling.
Once inside, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed close for another kiss, her neck still tingling from his lips and teeth. Her hands eventually began to wander once more, and she smoothed them down over his hips and then around to the front of her body to slide her hand over the front of his pants.
Fitz made a noise in the back of his throat when he felt her hand smooth down over him. While he was tired, he was also tense, and even if this was going to cut back on some of the sleep he might have had, he was willing to bet what he did get would be a lot more restful.
Not that he was thinking that when he kissed her, however. Instead he was thinking about how best to get her on the bed, barring dragging her over there. He smoothed one hand into her hair, kissing her intensely, in the way he wished he could have back at the club every time he saw her.
Farrah was torn between the desire to draw it out, to savor every bit of him since she hadn’t had him to herself in far too long, and the desire to fall to her knees in front of him and tug down his pants right where they stood. He’d already told her that he had to work in the morning and she felt bad, knowing she was infringing on his sleep. Still, she could not bring herself to step away and insist they just go to bed to sleep. She needed him, at least once.
Her fingers moved to the waistband of his pants, working open the fly and allowing her hands to delve inside. The cotton of his underwear was warm from his body, and when she slid her hand beneath he was hot and growing hard. Farrah made a noise, then.
“Bed,” she said breathlessly against his lips. “Now.”
Fitz made a soft noise against her lips when she touched him, his mind going for a split second completely blank. But then he found himself in utter agreement and, without a word, headed for the bed with her in tow.
He stopped to tug his shirt off over his head, figuring it would be best to do it now, before pulling her close again. He found and then began to drag down her zipper, doubting that she would find his eagerness at all bothersome.
She took her hand out of his pants long enough to take the few steps to the bed, figuring it’d be far less awkward that way, and stood back to watch as he tugged his shirt over his head. Her hands went immediately to his chest, grazing down over his stomach as he unzipped her dress, then taking a step back so that she could push it off of her shoulders and over her hips, leaving it in a pile on the floor.
It was then that she moved down to her knees, using her dress as a way to provide a bit more cushion to her knees as she knelt before him, and lifted her hands to start working his pants and underwear down over his hips. She was unable to keep her eyes on what she was doing when he was exposed to her, gazing up at him instead as she absent mindedly pushed his pants from his calves to his ankles. There, his pants were forgotten and she was lifting up a bit, licking along the backside of him before taking him inside her mouth without preamble. They didn’t have a whole lot of time, and she was beyond eager to taste him.
Despite how eager he was, Fitz was pleasantly startled when Farrah suddenly got down on her knees. He immediately smoothed both of his hands back into her hair, watching her, shuddering at the first touch of her tongue and then moaning aloud at the wetness of her mouth. He felt the same in that he wanted to take his time, to savour her, but while he didn’t feel exactly rushed - whatever hours of sleep he was going to give up, he was giving them up willingly - he did want to make the most of her while he could.
Farrah braced one hand on his thigh to keep herself steady and wrapped the other around the base of him, stroking what she couldn’t fit. She didn’t think she had the patience to stay down there until he finished, though she did want to taste him, at least a bit, before they got on with their business. It’d been far too long and she’d missed him far too much to not want to sample every available bit of him. She was very aware of the fact she was still in her underwear and shoes, the heels of the latter were currently digging into her where she sat, but she couldn’t be bothered with little details like that, either.
Fitz groaned, oth at the sensation and the image of her as she worked. He didn’t think he wanted to let Farrah stay down there for too long, either, no matter how good it felt; he wanted her in other ways. He worked his fingertips against her head, smoothing down to rub at the back of her neck, soothing and encouraging.
Her free hand smoothed along his thigh, feeling the bunch and tenseness of his muscles as he responded to what she did to him. She couldn’t stop looking at his face, getting distracted by the way his fingers felt working through his hair or the noises he made, and after a moment more, she pulled back. She licked at her lips as she looked up at him, her hand still stroking his cock. “I haven’t managed to let you get into bed yet, have I? I’m sorry.”
Fitz spent a moment just looking at her before he was able to scrape together the concentration to actually answer her. “No, but I haven’t gotten you to bed, either,” he murmured, reaching down to help her up - she couldn’t be comfortable down there on the floor, after all. He moved to climb onto the bed, pulling her up against him when she followed, smoothing his hand over her lower back.
She took his hand and stood, feeling a slight pang from sitting on her knees on the floor, though his carpet was plush enough that it wasn’t bad at all, and she’d been enjoying herself far too much to care. She crawled in bed after him, wasting no time in draping herself against his body and leaning in to kiss him. Now that she was settled again, she slid her hand down to wrap around his cock once more.
Fitz groaned in the back of his throat when she yet again took hold of his cock, and slid his hand down to tuck into the back of her panties to begin sliding them off. “You were the most beautiful girl there tonight,” he murmured, nipping lightly at her bottom lip. “I know. I had a good view of the room from the stage.”
Farrah smiled against his lips, her free hand cupping his jaw as she continued to kiss him. She was pleased by the compliment, though, and she sucked gently on his bottom lip before speaking. “Mmm, thank you. But I think you’re speaking with a fair amount of bias,” she teased him.
“What if I am?” Fitz countered, tugging down her panties, his hand smoothing along the back of one of her thighs. “I can’t help it if I know that you’re also smart, and independent, and gutsy.” He licked at the corner of her mouth. “And very good with your hands. Bias is unavoidable.”
Farrah lifted to aid in the removing of her panties, shifting and bending down to help him work the tangle of her panties over her shoes before returning to being pressed against him. “I suppose it is,” she agreed with a nod, dipping her head down to bite gently at the skin of his collar bone, sucking at the flesh there. “In that same vein, you were definitely the most beautiful man there. Though I tend to think you’re the most beautiful man everywhere. I guess that is bias, isn’t it.”
Fitz’s hand glided over her leg, her skin smooth and soft underneath his fingertips. He loved touching her. “I guess so,” he returned, rubbing the tip of his nose against hers. He slid his hand up between her legs, to touch her as he had back in the club, but without the barrier of her panties this time.
Farrah exhaled roughly when she felt his hand slip up the inside of her thighs, though she parted them easily enough, licking her lips as she leaned back to look up at him. She would’ve been almost embarrassed by what he found there, if she had not already made it quite clear to him what he did to her, and what he had been doing all night. Slowly, she rolled her hips down against his fingers. “I can’t help it,” she replied.
Fitz guided her leg over his hip so that she was spread a bit more comfortably while they laid side by side. “Yes, I know,” he murmured, sliding his fingers through her, shivering at how hot, how wet she was with him having barely touched her through the night. “I suppose it’s all my fault. I’m very sorry.”
“It is all your fault,” she countered, moaning as his fingers slid through her, her own hand stopping momentarily on his cock as she tried to gather herself, then continued. “I’ve never been like this with anyone else before, so you’re definitely the culprit.”
“Do you want me to stop?” Fitz asked, teasingly, though he continued to stroke her, circling the bead of her clit with a fingertip. “I would, except I don’t know how. Perhaps I could gain weight. Attempt to grow a beard. Stop washing my clothes, that sort of thing?”
“Nooo,” Farrah said, sort of whimpering, and scooted closer to him. The thought of not having Fitz like this was more upsetting than she could admit to. “Never. And no to all that other stuff you said, too. I don’t mind what you do to me,” she continued. “I just want you to be aware of what the consequences are so you aren’t startled.”
“Well according to you, I just have to walk into a room. But I know it can’t be that simple,” Fitz continued to tease, but still he continued to touch her, and then also allowed his mouth to trace over her jaw and go down the line of her neck. “Is there a way we can avoid it? Just for those rare occasions where it would be best to. Baptisms, children’s birthday parties, church, that sort of thing.”
“I just - “ Farrah started, then had to swallow a moan as Fitz’s touch continued to reign havoc on her and her thought processes. She was already so sensitive, so wet, she could barely focus, but she was giving it her best effort. “I just think we should avoid those scenarios,” Farrah said finally, arching her neck as he kissed down over it. “Just to be safe.”
“To be safe,” Fitz agreed, moving his lips to her ear, dragging his teeth lightly over the shell before nibbling at her earlobe. Despite feeling like he needed her immediately and any later would be unbearable, he still found himself lingering over her skin with his mouth. That, too, was a temptation he found hard to fight.
Her free hand slid up to cup the back of his neck when he used his teeth on her ear, encouraging. She liked the use of his teeth on her skin, the slight pain and possession of the act appealing to her more animalistic nature. She made another soft noise in pleading. ‘I don’t think I couldn’t ever not touch you,” she told him honestly. “I could try for a while, but I’d fail.”
Fitz slipped his hand from between her legs, tracing his wet fingertips over her hip for a moment before reaching around behind her, unhooking her bra. “That’s good,” he murmured against her ear, helping her slide her bra off and tossing it aside. “You’re good with your hands, remember? I prefer them on me more often than not.”
“Ah right, you might’ve mentioned that,” she murmured, watching his face as she slowly and steadily stroked over him. “Good thing, too, seeing as how I’m incapable of stopping. I would hate to take unwelcome liberties with you, Fitzwilliam.” She leaned over and nibbled on his shoulder, looking at the faint red marks her teeth left behind when she pulled back and the faint, red smear of lipstick from where her lips had brushed against him. He was so pale, so perfect. She smoothed her free hand over his chest. “Does being a Nix give you skin this perfect, or is it just good genes?”
His eyes fluttered closed for a moment by the stroke of her hand, his hands faltering as they smoothed up her side. “I’m not quite sure,” he replied after a moment. He worked his fingertips gently over her skin where her bra had made faint indentations. “It could be either of those. Neither of my parents seemed particularly affected in that area.”
“Remind me to write your mother a letter of thanks someday,” she murmured teasingly. “She’s gifted me with a very beautiful gentleman.” She kissed down over his chest, making a low humming noise as she tasted his skin. Her free hand slid down over his side to his hip, then back up again, her knee hooking over his hip in a spot that was just a bit higher. “Think she’d mind that? A long, thorough letter explaining how wonderful her son is?”
Fitz pressed against her, carefully rolling her back against the bed and situating himself atop her. He bent his head, skating his lips over her throat and collar, then over the curves of her breasts. “Maybe try not to be too thorough if you decide to do that,” he said. “Because then she very well might mind an awful lot.”
Farrah wound her legs around him, her hands sliding up over his back and one into his hair, encouraging him as he kissed over her. “Very true,” she said. “Though now that I think about it, she wouldn’t have anything to do with how badly I need you inside me, and all that you do to me once you’re there. So I could, theoretically, leave that part out.”
“Please do,” Fitz breathed, visibly affected by her words. Instead of lingering over her breasts as he might have done normally, he straightened up to push his mouth against hers. He could still taste a bit of himself on her lips, a fact that had him pressing down against her.
Farrah made a low noise as she kissed him back, her teeth snagging on his bottom lip as her legs tightened around his hips, attempting to draw him closer. He tasted like champagne, and was so warm she couldn’t stop herself from lifting and rubbing against him, eager and needy.
“I’m glad you came out tonight,” he breathed. Glad he had invited her, glad that she had come by to see him after he had played to touch him, kiss him. Glad that he could inspire a woman as tough and solitary as her to be with him. His hands worked over her legs, fingertips smoothing over her thighs while he ground himself against her, feeling her hot and wet against his cock.
She whimpered almost pleadingly when his hips rolled down against her. Dear God, this man. “Me too,” she breathed in reply, licking her lips as she rolled her hips back up in response. She didn’t really need to be endeared further by Fitz, though tonight had proven to do just that. She was unused to a man that, as she continued to bare him to her layer by layer, didn’t eventually end up rotten. “If I hadn’t gone home with you, I’m sure there would’ve been a line of ladies wrapped around the building waiting for the opportunity.”
“I would have avoided them,” Fitz breathed. “Walked out in sunglasses and a hat and a fake beard.” Still, he couldn’t continue joking with her, not when she was pushing up against him, her feelings for him absolutely no secret. Finally he could take it no more, and he shifted, moving to finally press himself inside of her. Though she was wet and ready for him, it had been long, and he wasn’t going to give her more than she could handle, no matter how badly he wanted to just bury himself inside of her.
Farrah did wonder when Fitz would happen across another woman he didn’t want to ignore in favor of going home to Farrah, but she didn’t let herself think about it just then. It was far easier to allow herself to sink into the moment. She’d gotten where she was with Fitz by ignoring her ingrained instincts where men were concerned and giving herself over to what he could evoke from her. No reason to stop now.
She threw her head back when he pressed inside her, her fingers pressing into his shoulders as she held on to him, moaning loud and pleading as he slowly worked inside her. She was eager for more of him, though her body clenched around him, adjusting to the sensation of being filled after their separation.
He sucked and nipped at her bottom lip once he was seated inside of her, distracting himself with that while he took a moment to let her get adjusted, to enjoy the feeling of her all around him. Then he began to shift, pulling back and thrusting forward smoothly, with care, not wanting to disrupt her, to move too violently. He wanted her to feel good, he wanted her to enjoy him as much as he enjoyed her. He skated his lips along the line of her jaw, his breathing soft and uneven, his whole body tense.
When he began to shift and move inside her, Farrah moaned outright, her legs shifting at his hips in an attempt to find a place to grip him harder, hold him closer. She wanted more, though she knew he would give it to her whenever she was ready. It did not stop her from being eager and greedy, though, and moaning pleadingly.
It was so difficult to restrain himself when Farrah was writhing underneath him, gripping at him, begging him to do anything but. He couldn’t ignore her for long, and he didn’t really want to try, anyway. He moaned against her ear, one hand grasping at the sheets below them, the other smoothing over one of her legs as he began to quicken his pace.
Farrah buried her face in his shoulder, letting the flesh there muffle her moans as his pace quickened. She gripped at his back, her toes curling as she parted her lips enough to bite and suck at the flesh beneath her mouth, wanting to taste him.
Fitz groaned as he felt the heat of her mouth, though it was nowhere near to approaching the heat between her legs. He thrust himself inside of her, eagerly, his moans unmuffled and filling the bedroom, moreso than the slap of skin on skin. His hand on the back of her thigh hiked her leg up a bit more, spreading her just a fraction wider.
His hiking her thigh up changed the angle he slipped inside her just a bit and had Farrah groaning outright, her head falling back from his shoulder to dig into the pillow as her body arched. It had been too long since she’d had him, and despite the fact that he’d gone easy at first to give her body an opportunity to catch up, it was overheating far too easily. She shuddered beneath him, moaning his name a split second before she came with a shout, her nails digging into his shoulders in encouragement.
When Farrah came, Fitz felt it, the way she shook beneath him, the way her muscles tightened around his cock and her nails bit almost violently into his shoulder. He thrust twice more into her clenching heat before coming with a rough cry, burying himself inside of her. He kissed at the skin beneath his mouth, at her ear and neck and throat, moaning raggedly.
Farrah moaned again when she felt the flush of heat that accompanied his coming inside her, her mouth feeling impossibly dry as she shifted her arms to wrap tighter around his shoulders, uncurling her fingers and nails from his skin. She took a deep, ragged breath and slid her hands down over his back after a moment, though she still held him to her.
Fitz shifted slightly, moving so that he could kiss her, softly, almost delicately, despite how energetically he’d just fucked her. His feelings, after all, remained tender. “Christ, I’m lucky,” he sighed into her mouth, not meaning to say it out loud, though he supposed he didn’t regret it. It was true, anyway.
Farrah lifted one hand to cup his jaw as she kissed him back, humming contentedly in her throat as she moved her fingers through smooth through his hair. “Look at you,” she murmured in response to his saying he was lucky. She gently rubbed the tip of his nose with hers. “I’m a bad, demanding girlfriend.”
“Wonderfully demanding,” Fitz murmured against her lips, smiling. “And bad in a very good way, I can tell you.” He moved to kiss the tip of her nose, feeling stupidly, ridiculously happy in that moment, even though he was tired and run ragged and when all was said in done probably only going to get four hours of sleep, if that. But it was worth it.
Farrah shook her head, though she couldn’t help but smile up at him. When had a man ever made her feel so stupidly giddy? Farrah wasn’t used to being overly happy, but Fitz could evoke it in her easily enough. “My poor, tired boy,” she murmured, kissing his nose, then his cheeks, wrapping her arms around him for a squeeze.
“I’d rather be tired from spending the night with you than tired from working,” Fitz said, cuddling himself against her once she wrapped her arms around him. She looked so sweet and glowing to him in that moment. “At least with you it’s energy well spent.”
“I meant what I said earlier,” Farrah reminded him, kissing his shoulder. “About you spending the night when you have time. I promise I won’t demand sexual favors from you if you show up in the middle of the night beat. I just like sleeping with you. You round out the seashell bed nicely.”
Fitz smiled at her. From what she was propositioning, she made it sound so different than he would have considered it - like she was infringing upon him. “I’d be worried you would think I was being selfish, dropping by in the middle of the night,” he said, nuzzling at her hair. “Because you deserve more than a midnight call, Farrah. That’s all. But if you think I can spruce up the seashell bed, then of course, I’m at your disposal.”
“That’s not what it is,” Farrah said with a shake of her head. “It’s you stopping by because you’re making an effort to make time for me in a day that’s packed too full to make room for me anywhere else. However, if you have the day off and don’t bother showing up until 3 am after you’ve had some drinks and are too bored to go to sleep, then it’s a midnight call. And then, I will take offense.”
Fitz chuckled and kissed her cheek. “You don’t have to worry about that happening anytime soon,” he said. “What man in his right mind would sit and have a drink when there’s a woman waiting for him elsewhere? And I’m only a little bit crazy, as opposed to entirely.” He didn’t bring up that he also had to try to make time for Dex, too, because he knew she would assume that already. But Dex was easier to please than a girlfriend, despite appearance otherwise.
She smiled up at him. “You would be surprised, darling. And anyway, I’m just saying that I don’t want you to feel guilty. I’d rather get nothing other than to kiss you goodbye in the morning than not see you for weeks on end. I have enough trouble getting people to believe you’re my boyfriend without you turning into the invisible man on me.”
“Really?” Fitz asked, amused. “Who are you telling that I’m your boyfriend? I should go around and tell them you’re lying, make life difficult for you.” Though, of course, he would do no such thing. He kissed each eyebrow, in the spot where they arched down into a curve, and began to carefully climb off of her. He wanted to start drawing the bath.
“The people at work, mostly,” Farrah said with a shrug, though she held still for him to climb off of her. She didn’t really talk to many other people about her personal life, outside of Gwen, and Gwen had solid proof so there wasn’t any danger there. “I mean, I don’t say ‘Hi, I’m Farrah. Fitz Carver is my boyfriend.’ But I do use you as an excuse when men hit on me. You’re important enough to shut them up.”
Fitz grinned. “Get their business cards, I might know them,” he said. “Or their bosses. I could send them a sharp note, if you think they deserve it.” He stood but leaned down to kiss her once more. “I’m going to start the bath,” he said, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. She looked so good, sprawled out on his bed like that, that he had to take a moment to appreciate the view.
“Alright,” Farrah said, stretching. “I’ll do that.” She wasn’t sure what a sharply worded note from Fitz would entail, but she was entertained by the idea. She nodded when he said he was going to go draw a bath, tipping her head back for his kiss, then smiling up at him. She could feel the tug in her hips from over exertion, a nod to rowdy sex after she’d gone far too long without, but it was a pleasant sort of hurt as she knew where it’d come from. “Give me a yell when you’re ready.”
Fitz stroked his hand over one of her legs. “Of course,” he said. “And bring the food, won’t you, darling? You’ve worked up my appetite.”
He squeezed her ankle and left her in the bedroom, beginning to draw the bath. His bathtub was in a separate room from his shower - it was an elegant room, because as far as Fitz was concerned, if he couldn’t have a lake, then he would have something stupidly luxurious. It wasn’t a big enough tub to do laps in, but it was about the size of a large hot tub, and sunk in the ground. Because Farrah would be joining him, he threw in some bubble bath and a couple bombs to soften the water up, all of it smelling of lavender. Water had a slight rejuvenating effect, and he would have rathered taken his bath once waking up in the morning, but he wanted to share it with Farrah and wasn’t about to wake her up in the morning for it. Besides, whatever effect the water would have on him, it wouldn’t keep him awake for long.
“Farrah, bath’s ready,” he called, gently, once the water neared the top. He had to remind himself to leave room for an extra body.
Farrah stood obediently at his call and padded into the living room where she sat down her purse and the box of food they’d brought from the party. She pulled a plain, elastic hairband from the outside pocket of her purse and used it to pile her hair up on top of her head in an artless bun, then returned to the bathroom. “Should I get us something to drink, too?” She asked as she sat the things down near the bathtub. She’d thought about grabbing a bottle of wine or something, though she didn’t know if he was saving some bottles for certain things and didn’t want to grab the wrong vintage. Wealthy people could be particular that way.
“Whatever you like, darling,” Fitz said, once she came in, glancing up at her with a smile. He sat on the edge of the tub, desperately wanting to slip in. Now, in such close proximity to it, he realized just how long it had been since he’d been submerged. Too long to be healthy, he knew. “But nothing that’ll keep us awake.”
“Alright, I’ll be right back. You go ahead.” She turned to head back out to his kitchen, opening his refrigerator and selecting two beers. They were cold, and it’d be far safer as far as her choices went. She returned to the bathroom and sat them down next to the food, then dipped her toes in the tub. “My my, Fitzwilliam. You do have the most wonderful things.”
Fitz slipped in the tub when she gave him the go ahead, letting the warm water envelope his body. God, it felt good. He felt a shiver of relief work its way down his spine, and he sighed. “If I’m going to spend money on frivolous things, it will be on frivolous things I enjoy,” he said, leaning back and letting himself float a bit.
Farrah leaned back against her side of the tub, watching him float without moving to interrupt him. She knew he needed this, after all. Instead she eventually cracked open her beer and flipped open the lid on the box, selecting one of the little spring rolls. “As is your right,” she said. “If I was Fitz Carver rich, I’d have a houseful of enjoyable, frivolous things. The seashell bed times a million.”
“Seashell furniture?” Fitz suggested. “Pillows the shape of starfish, maybe?” He already felt a million times better, just being in the water. Showers helped, but they were never a true substitute - and if you asked Dex, there was a hell of a difference between a shower and a swim.
“Maybe,” Farrah said with a laugh. “Though if I were Fitz Carver rich, that would really sort of be childsplay, wouldn’t it? I could get pearly accessories. Like, lamps made of pearls. Tons of pearl jewelry,” she sighed. “I do love me some pearls.”
“Do you?” Fitz asked. He moved to slip completely under the water for a moment, wanting to feel the water through his hair. Being underwater was natural for him, he felt the comfort in being enclosed on all sides. When he came up again, he did so next to Farrah. “Just pearls, or do you like gemstones as well?” he continued, as if he hadn’t disappeared for a moment.
“I like gemstones,” she said with a shrug. “Though a lamp made out of emeralds would be too decadent, even for the Fitz Carver rich. Wouldn’t you agree?” She pushed at his leg playfully with her toes.