InsaneJournal

Tommy was dead.
Who: Tiffany and Wally
When: After these text messages
Where: Picking her up, but she’s in a bad place
What: A date? Kinda? But not really?
Rating/Warnings: High. Sex, but glossy.
Status: Complete

amazingly gorgeous</s> woman at the park. Fleur. She was incredible. And Wally wasn’t the kind of guy to go “spread his seed” or whatever. He normally wasn’t interested in casual. He liked Tiffany, and was probably going to get his heart crushed over all of this.

Anyway, he pulled up and parked on the street in front of Tiffany’s place (the converted garage), then climbed out of his car and walked up to her door to knock. He was smiling. He couldn’t help it. He was fairly excited to see her.

But Tiffany didn’t answer and the seconds ticked by, turning into minutes. Upstairs, in her room at the top of the garage, she was sprawled out across her bed, her hair tied up, not dressed to go anywhere, her face marked by her pillow. It was only supposed to have been a quick nap, but what she had seen seem to have taken days. Months.

She couldn’t stop crying.

Wally knocked again. He could hear something coming from the window upstairs, but he had no idea what was going on. He’d only just talked to her, what, an hour ago? Two at the most. Then again, that was via text message. He turned to where the window was, open, and called out. (A very strange thing for Wally to be doing, honestly.)

“Tiffany?”

Her eyes snapped open. Shit. Shitshitshit. Wally was here. In her misery, everything she ought to have remembered had gone out the window. The same window he could probably hear her sobbing. Oh God.

Tiffany took a deep breath and ordered herself to pull it together. Tommy wasn’t real, even if he was her dream husband; even though he had just died and she’d been at the funeral. A widow before she was thirty. Fuck. No, he wasn’t really real.

Pushed herself off the bed, Tiffany wiped her cheeks again and again, until there was no moisture left on them. She took another breath and pushed up the window, so it was open all the way. “Hey...” she said. Her voice was very ragged. That couldn’t be helped.

“Hey.” He called out. The smile that’d been on his face at the thought of taking her out for gelato was gone, and replaced with a very concerned expression. She’d just been sobbing as if the world was ending, and now? Her voice was ragged. The normal light that he saw in her eyes was dim.

“You alright?” Wally asked. He motioned toward the door, feebly, as if to say ‘I was knocking,’ but no sound came out. He was too concerned about her welfare to come up with proper words.

Though she thought she’d brushed away all the tears, Tiffany felt new drops form in the corners of her eyes. “I uh... I feel asleep...” she said, knowing it hardly counted as an explanation. What she did know was that she couldn’t leave Wally standing at the door. And there was always the chance her mom or Ronnie were snooping. She swallowed. “Hold on. I’ll come down.”

Wally gave a little nod. He wondered for a moment why sleeping would make her weep like that. Or if there was something that she wasn’t telling him? Well, he wasn’t going to pry. Wally wasn’t the type to press people for answers. He was a calm, quiet, comforting presence. At least, he hoped on the comforting part.

He moved back over to the door to wait for her, concern still stretched across his brow.

Tiffany gave one final attempt at clearing her eyes before opening the door, but her skin was still red and splotchy. There was no pretending she hadn’t been crying. For a moment, she stared at Wally, unsure if there was any excuse in the world that would have sufficed. Nothing came to mind. “Hey... I just had a really terrible nightmare.”

She stepped aside to let him into the garage, before anyone else saw her tears.

Wally stood for a split second, awkwardly, wishing that he could do something more to comfort her. “Must have been some nightmare,” he said, then stepped through the doorway and let her close the door behind him. He glanced around, realizing that hers was the only house on his route that he’d ever stepped inside before.

The door clicked. Tiffany pulled the elastic out of her hair and re-tied her pun, trying to put herself back together. “It was...” she said dryly, pacing across the floor.

“It was...?” Wally repeated after her, standing somewhat awkwardly. He wanted to offer his arms to her, wanted to give her a hug and try to make her feel better. But she seemed so wound up. Would she appreciate that? Would she want it?

He took a step closer and lifted a hand to touch her arm, gently, as she paced close by.

Tiffany looked up at him. It wasn’t that she hating looking vulnerable. Everyone had their bad moments. It was that this weird pain and sadness she felt had nothing to do with reality and that scared her, made her worry she was finally going crazy. Tommy wasn’t real.

“Have you ever had any of these dreams people talk about?” she asked. Her voice was still popping and cracking.

"No," Wally said. His hand was still resting on her arm, and he took a half step closer. He could comfort her, right? Give her a hug if she needed one? Of course, nightmares were terrible. But Wally had never had one of those dreams, so he didn't know how real they were, or how much the emotions in them crossed over into the real world. "...was it... realistic?"

Tiffany finally stopped pacing. She didn’t wrap her hands around Wally, but she had no instinct to push him away. It was about then that she realized just how good it felt, despite everything, that he was so close.

“I felt like I was watching things go by that took weeks. I... was married and he died... and I went to the funeral...” Her voice began to break, now, rather than merely waver. Her face was distorted in pain. “We were trying to have a baby...”

“Oh man.” Wally frowned a bit more deeply, then stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. He bit the bullet, hoping she wouldn’t push him away. For some reason, he didn’t think she was going to.

Wally hadn’t had any of these bizarre dreams, but he was starting to understand the impact that they had on people. How crazy the emotions were, how much they affected people. And it sucked to see it happen to Tiffany, who he was so fond of.

Tiffany let him hold her. She wrapped her arms around him, too. She needed something strong to hold on to. It bothered her that the strong thing wasn’t herself, but Wally was willing and capable. She pressed her face into his chest. “But none of that is real...” she cried. “How can I be so sad over something that isn’t real?”

“The emotions are real.” Wally said. He honestly had no idea, but he sounded like he did. It was his calm, gentle demeanor, his sturdy arms around her, his firm but gentle voice. “What you’re feeling is real, no matter where it comes from.” He really hoped that he was helping, and it felt like he was. She was strong, he knew it, and even though she wasn’t that much smaller than he, she felt tiny in his arms. Fragile. Like he wanted to protect her.

She didn’t know what to say. Affirmation came so rarely to her, that Tiffany’s face contorted again and fresh tears began to flow. She knew what she had seen was more than a dream. It was a memory, but a memory of something she’d never experienced. Maybe she really was losing her mind.

Wally was content to hold her in his arms and let her cry. She had a lot of emotions, a lot of frustrations to release. He didn’t mind letting her. He wanted her to get better, and sometimes the only way to do that was to let it all out. His hand lifted to run up and down her back, gently, over her shoulder blades.

Like a mantra, Tiffany repeated over and over in her head that Wally was a real person, someone she could look at and touch. Tommy, whoever he was, didn’t exist here. Wally is real. This is real. Right now, this is really happening. She pressed her lips into the center of his chest, feeling the flesh gently give beneath the pressure, and held him tighter.

Wally wasn’t sure if there was something else he was supposed to be doing besides standing there, holding her, and being comforting. He turned to press his face into her hair, and marveled at the smell. She always smelled so good. For a brief moment, he wondered what shampoo she used. Strange thought. But he found he was usually consumed with thoughts about her. Oh, yeah, the poor, silent guy had been harboring a bit of a crush on the girl in his arms. And holding her like this definitely wasn’t helping.

She kissed his chest again. And again. Holding him wasn’t enough, she wanted to climb inside Wally. His heartbeat was like a clock, ticking and grounding her in time.

He lifted his hand to run over the back of her head. Wally hadn’t been expecting this. He supposed he probably should have at least considered it?--sex was comforting, right?--but it hadn’t even crossed his mind. Should he stop her? He didn’t want to take advantage while she was vulnerable. Then again, they’d done it before. They liked each other very much. It wasn’t like he was slipping her a roofie. Still. Torn.

“Tiffany,” he whispered into her hair, still holding her close against him. It was a question, a reassurance, a lot of things all rolled into one.

“What?” she asked, but her lips and moved up to his neck. Tiffany had to stand on her tip-toes to reach his chin. She wanted sex now. She wanted a release and a warm body to hold. She wanted something good.

The lips on his neck made his hands tense against her back. Damn. Damn. This was such a test of his self-control. His body was responding to her attentions--of course it was. How could it not?--but his head was still cautious. He didn’t want to do something she’d regret. But would she regret it? “...are you sure?” He whispered. Please, God, say yes.

She absolutely wouldn’t regret it. When it came to sex, Tiffany had few reservations and no bad memories. She didn’t respond with words, she just began to work on the buttons of his shirt, working with speed. She didn’t even care about making it upstairs.

Wally gave her a moment. Not so long that he would seem rude, but long enough to respond. Her actions spoke quite a bit louder than words, and he took that to mean consent. He dipped his head down and captured her lips with his own, tightening his arms around her. If she wanted this, he’d give it to her. And enjoy every second of it himself. ...feeling slightly guilty about enjoying himself so much when she was obviously distraught.

One thing Tiffany couldn’t do was get into Wally’s head. She couldn’t grasp the situation from his perspective, she couldn’t understand why he might feel any reservations. Maybe the honest truth was that she was being selfish, even using him just a bit, as a band-aid, as a means to heal.

She pushed him against the wall and began to take what she needed.

Now that his moment of hesitation had passed, Wally was much more willing to let her have what she needed without question. He was more than content to be pushed around and used. After a moment, though, he spun her around and pinned her to the wall, kissing her roughly, hands tugging hungrily at her clothes.

Tiffany loved sex. And she had a feeling she was especially good at it. After all, this wouldn’t be the first time Wally and she would be getting it on, and he certainly seemed excited. Very excited. It wasn’t too much longer before they were on the floor. She liked to take charge. And give orders. “Get down. Lie down. I want to be on top.”

Wally wasn’t about to argue with that. He flopped down onto the floor, kicking his shoes off, then reached up to help her get her clothes just out of the way enough so they could do this. Neither had to be completely naked, and taking clothes off all of the way would waste precious time. He was looking forward to letting her take control, letting her do what she wanted. It was one of the hottest things he’d ever experienced.

Maybe, just maybe, if Tiffany was completely honest with herself, she would have been able to admit that she knew she was very good at this. So damn good. She knew how to reel a man in... at least this way. And maybe that was a bit of a problem, maybe Wally’s concerns weren’t totally unfounded. Because she did use sex; she believed it would get her where and what she needed, when all else failed. Right now, she wanted Wally. Maybe she was falling for him, too. Sex was the best way she knew to keep him around.

Poor thing. If only Tiffany knew that Wally would be hanging around with or without the sex. If only Wally knew that was what was going on in her mind. He would have reassured her as best he could that he liked her not just the way she gyrated her hips. But oh, did he mention gyrating hips? Good God. She was very very good at this. Wally had never been with a woman who played his body the way she did--like an instrument. His hands wandered her body, drawing her in against him as she moved against him, taking charge and making his brain shut down.

Tiffany’s thoughts also flatlined. There was nothing else worth thinking about at this point, when instinct and desire took over. She did, however, enjoy to the glassy look of pleasure in his eyes, like Wally had entered some other dimension. They were both somewhere far from the dreams now. She finally felt safe. “You have no idea how awesome you are, do you?” she said, between gasps.

Wally let out a little grunt. His hands were clasped tightly on her hips, grinding her down against him harder and faster. She knew exactly when to ease up, so he wouldn’t finish prematurely, and she knew exactly when to go hard and fast, letting them both enjoy it more. “...That’s my line,” he said, teasing, breaking into a grin. One of his hands slipped between them to help her along. He wasn’t the best lover in the world, but he’d picked up a few tricks here and there. And he was learning more and more from her every time they were together. ...both times, so far.

If Wally thought he wasn’t a great lover, it was probably only because he’d never experienced himself from the other side. Cos what he knew, and other guys didn’t, was that one of the best ways to please a woman was to just let her do her thing. No trying to show off, breaking concentration, no pretending he had some top secret government method. Tiffany appreciated it immensely.

Although, one of the curious things about her style was that she didn’t make a lot of noise at the climax. It all came out as one happy groan.

God, he hoped that was her finishing, because it drove him over the edge. His body bucked up, he grunted his release. Sex with Tiffany was the best. The. Best. He’d been in love before, made love before, had break-up sex and make-up sex, but this was far better. He could feel how much she needed him, and that made it more powerful. Not to mention that incredible thing she did with her hips. Whatever it was.

He collapsed, panting, to the floor. His hands still weakly clinging to her hips.

Tiffany collapsed against him like a wave. Her hair had come lose and stuck to all their exposed skin with sweat. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the rest of the ride, pushing Tommy and the dream deeper into her mind, until they were shadowy and difficult to see. At last, the sharpness of the pain had faded. She smiled and kissed Wally’s chest. “Er, thanks.”

Wally was breathing hard after all that. There was a part of him that never wanted to let her go, really, and it had only about eighty percent to do with the amazing sex they’d just had. The other twenty was because he was totally digging her. Falling, maybe. She was beautiful, and funny, and she had this absolutely amazing body--and she knew how to use it. He was more than smitten.

Wally chuckled softly, even through his hard breathing. His hands moved up and then down her sides once, massaging her hips lazily. "That's my line," he repeated himself from earlier, playfully. "I should be the one thanking you."

Tiffany smirked. “Well, who’s stopping you?”

Carefully, she rolled off him and stretched out along the floor, closing her eyes and enjoying the waves that were still coming. She looked over a at Wally, her eyes tracing his chiseled profile. He was as easy on the eyes as he was easy to like. “...But seriously, thank you. I feel better now.”

Wally gave a little chuckle, still reeling, still tingling from what she'd just done to him. "Thank you, really." He turned to look at her and smile, then wrapped an arm around her to cuddle close. Okay, he was a bit of a cuddler. Not too much, though.

"I'm glad." He said, gently. "This was better than gelato." Though, they could definitely still go for ice cream.

Hmm, ice cream did still sound good. Tiffany sucked in her bottom lip and looked down at Wally’s arm around her. “I just... don’t want to confuse that world with this one.”

Wally watched her looking down at his arm, and debated moving it. He didn’t want to push his luck, after all. “...you think you might?”

“I kinda did, didn’t I? Crying like that.” Tiffany caught herself, refusing to go back to the way she felt before. “I dunno. I have an active imagination. Or something.”

“There’s a difference between leftover emotions and thinking a dream is real.” Wally said. Lots of words for the guy who doesn’t normally talk. He took a deep breath and let it go, still cuddled close, but not too close. “...I’ve cried from watching an emotional movie, but I know it’s not real.” He was trying to be helpful.

“Yeah, but what if one day you thought it was real? I mean, what would you do?” Tiffany waved a hand in the air before bringing it back down to touch Wally’s arm. “Nevermind. Just ignore me. I’m rambling. ...Let’s get ice cream.”

It was a good thing she said ‘nevermind’ when she did. Wally didn’t have an answer to her question. He had no idea what he’d do. He was thankful that his life was simple. Nothing really confusing--besides how he felt about Tiffany. And that was a good kind of confusing.

“All right.” He leaned over and kissed her hair, then climbed up off of her. There was just a little clean-up to do, and he was dressing again. “Gelato it is.”