InsaneJournal

It probably defeated the purpose of being under Alex’s protection to go back to his house and get a suit, but he did. It also defeated the purpose of being under Alex’s protection to go ahead and book a hotel room, but he did that too: for one night, maybe the last night, he didn’t want to think about The Hand, or the thing he was about to publicize or where his life was going to be a few days from now. He didn’t want to feel scared.

So he shaved and showered, put on cologne and his suit, and rolled up to Dominique’s house intent on treating her like a million bucks before he probably dragged her through the wringer.

Not wanting to unsettle her mother, he didn’t ring the doorbell. Instead, he came outside to lean patiently against the passenger door and text her that he was here.

Within five minutes, Dominique was emerging from the front door. There’d been much change, both in appearance and feeling, between the Dom who’d answered those initial texts and the one who padded up to him with wavy hair and a billowing dress. The circumstances were surreal, but she wasn’t going to be the one to frighten him about tomorrow. Tonight was what was important.

She tiptoed up with a smile, set her hands to his chest, and leaned up for a kiss hello.

"Just threw this together, last minute?" Gio kidded as he broke away from the kiss. He swept back and held the door open for her.

Dominique turned her nose up, pretending at indignance. “I’m this talented,” she informed him before sliding in and buckling up. In truth, her hair had already been drying in twin braids, and her makeup routine was so minimal, the most time had been spent on picking out clothes. How did one dress on a last night of someone’s freedom?

Gio closed the door with a soft laugh and jogged over to the driver’s seat to slide himself in. The Wrangler wasn’t as classy as they looked but it was at least clean. He gunned the engine and drove away from the Diaz home.

***

Of course it was at the beach - Gio was Gio, after all. But as they let themselves into the room, it looked less like a beach house and more like… well, a palace. Setting down his undrunk glass of complementary champagne, he immediately slid his hand over the cool comforter on the four poster bed. “Holy shit, they weren’t kidding,” Gio exclaimed as he then bounced his way over to the french doors that opened directly onto the sand.

Gio turned around and closed the doors behind him, grinning at Dominique. Then he raced over to the bathroom with a grin. “Can you believe it?”

Her answer was a blur of movement as she lowered her bag and ran toward the bed with excitement in equal measure. Then there was a flurry of floral fabric and brown hair, and a squeal as Dominique hit the mattress she’d hurtled herself at. She was breathless laughter as she explained, “I have always wanted to do this,” before flopping down on her back.

Delighted, Gio launched himself up onto the bed and flopped down next to her. It was a very, very soft bed, very cosy and fluffy. He mindlessly toed off his shoes at the end of the bed and then turned over. “You’ve never jumped on a bed before?” he asked, smiling brightly.

“Not a bed like this, like a cloud.” In turn, she peeled off her flats to let them drop to the floor. “When maman and I came to Los Angeles, we stayed in a nice hotel, but not like this. We’re very...” Dom waved a hand, searching for the word, “simple? Non, c’est pas ca.”

“I always thought that if I ever got to go to a prom, I’d stay in a place like this,” Gio mused as he flipped again, now looking back up at the ceiling. “Do they have proms in France?”

She shook her head. “I think one day it’s possible, but not in the south of France. Maybe in Paris.” Her dress whispered as she scootched closer to him. “Would you come to France with me in the later summer?”

Gio’s head flopped to one side to look over at Dom. “I’d love to.” He wasn’t going to mention he had no idea whether or not she’d want to be seen in public with him in later summer - it wasn’t like either of them knew what it’d be like. “I’ve never been to France before. Spain, yes, but not France.”

Gazing down at him laid out like that, she felt a warmth rise in her belly that she would likely have to address, but for the moment, she was content to wiggle even closer. “I’ve been once to Spain. It was a wedding, for one of maman’s cousins. I was young and I remember,” she cut a hand through the air, “rien.”

His arm slid around her to close all distance between them and half-incline her to better settle at his shoulder, and she all too happily rested against him.

“I was on a television show once where I took a couple of guys down there to go diving. On the UK equivalent of HeroTV. The show was dumb, but the trip was super fun. France was… France was intimidating. Like, I got enough shit about the way I spoke English in England, and with the French’s reputation about people speaking French? But I know you’ll protect me,” he concluded with a teasing grin.

“Mmm, I don’t know...” Of course she would, but France was far away, and they were here. She smoothed down the closest lapel of his jacket as the homesickness struck her deepest chords. “We won’t give you shit for your French. We’ll give you shit for being American,” she smiled thinly. “A tall, loud, very goofy American.”

“No respect for the food and wine,” he said, leaning in and kissing her cheek softly. “Doesn’t know much about art. Or football. What will your relatives say?” he added another kiss to her cheek. “Where would we go in France?”

"Albi first, of course. We could stay in the south. I will make you cultured with wine and bread." Tease though it was, Dominique, all aflutter now, was serious in the offer. Whatever tomorrow brought, she knew she'd still want that, and this.

She crawled onto her knees properly to pepper his face with gentle kisses, and finally his lips.

Kissing he’d figured out how to do - slide his hand along the crown of her head, slipping his fingers between the cool strands at her temple, then follow a steady spiral into deeper and deeper kisses that gestured her to move in closer to his body.

Until he found himself looking up through his lashes at Dominique, remembering to breathe even if anxiety was creeping a little into his controlled demeanor. He licked his lips a little. “So… what do you want me to do?” he asked, very good at following directions.

They hadn’t gone much further than this point. Hands roamed and kisses were freely given, but there hadn’t been a discussion about what happened beyond this place. And confident as Dom was beyond the bedroom, with smoothing her hands along his chest and shoulders and face, this was uncharted territory for her.

Her face went hot as her fingers brushed buttons. “Your shirt, take it off.”

Gio did just that: rising at the waist slightly, balanced by the strength of his abs to make an obtuse angle with his legs, he slid button after button out of its slot. When he peeled back the crisp cotton shirt to reveal bronzed skin and a set of ripped abdominals, he tossed the shirt off of the bed without much thought to its future wrinkly state.

“Done,” he said, ticking that instruction off in the air with an invisible pen.

She couldn’t help her hands and let them touch down on his broad shoulders, to dip across his biceps, then pass down the middle of his chest. He was so warm, or — was that just her? Both? Feeling brave in the moment, Dominique eased a leg over his hips to straddle him. It would be okay. This would be okay, and good.

Down she leaned to kiss him, a bit more insistently than the first time, then: “You can touch me. There’s a zipper.”

It was some consolation that for all she was trying to project confidence, Dom was just as new to this as he was. It didn’t stop his heart from jumping towards his throat, but it was consolation enough.

He nodded his head gently enough that he didn’t have to stop the kiss, nor did they crack foreheads. Sightlessly, he reached behind to find the zipper along her spine. It came down in fits and starts as he mentally tracked the zipper location and what of her was slowly revealed.

“Touch is good,” he said absently as he abandoned the zipper and felt his rougher fingers along her smooth back. “Um. You know. Everything in me is always trying… like, to reset. To stabilize. So the more touch is happening, the more things will keep happening. Just. Like. FYI.”

She didn’t know what that meant, really, but it didn’t stop her from reaching up to shyly peel one shoulder of her dress off. “Will you… catch on fire?”

It was such a surprising statement that all Gio could do was laugh a little; it shook his self-consciousness a little and put the goofiness to the forefront. “Yeah, Dom. We’re gonna set this very nice bed in this very expensive hotel on fire.” He laughed a little some more as he watched her fingers rest on the other shoulder of her dress. “I mean. Maybe metaphorical fire. But not real fire.”

The dress came down over a pale shoulder, revealing even more skin and then pretty bralette. Before Dominique could fall victim to more of her own shyness, she took his hand in hers, pressed the back of it to her cheek. “Then anything else is okay.” But I’d burn with you, she didn’t voice. “And I would like more touch to happen.”

***

“Good?” Gio asked innocently, wondering whether the effort exerted had met the moment. This whole night was in design of pleasing Dom and whatever stone he’d left unturned he wanted to turn it. That was one - if possibly the only - sexual benefit to being indefatigable.

“Terrible? Somewhere in between?” he offered in addition as he cleared her collarbone of loose strands of honey-brown hair, then leaned down to kiss her there. “I can try again.”

He was asking her questions. She knew this, could see it, but her brain was like soup and her high flush had yet to fade, and words were difficult. Somehow, in a state of feeling very, very nice, she was able to force her lips to form them. “Yes, good,” she confirmed.

Both hands surged up to lovingly cradle Gio’s face, though not to pull him all the way down just yet. “Do you… can I…”

“Mmmm I don’t know, can you? Might not have done my job well enough if you can,” he teased back, deflected.

If possible (it was), Dominique went a little more pink. “Ah, I mean… it is okay?”

Gio nodded reassuringly. "If you are happy, I am happy." To punctuate the statement, he dropped another kiss in her collarbone. "I'm just sort of amazed I got this far."

Her fingers carded sleepily through his hair. "There will be more times, mm? Whatever happens, I'm here, Gio. Okay?"

He didn’t know if he believed her; if he still smiled at her dwindling consciousness, the ghost of that lingered behind his eyes. But Gio smiled anyway and gave her another kiss. “Are you toast or should I run a bath?”

“I’m not bread.” She bumped his nose against his. “A bath would be very nice.”

“As you wish,” he said pleasantly, glad for it. He had been pretty excited to try out the jets on the Jacuzzi tub.