missingthekeep | [for Meredith]

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[for Meredith]

Let it not be said that Sean has no Christmas spirit. Granted, the only reason he's up on the roof in the first place, stringing lights stolen from some nearby trees along the edges of his bloody cabin, is because he needs the distraction, but the point here is that he's doing it at all. The fact that he's heading towards another major holiday without Maeve, one of many, many more to come, the memory of how hard last year had been, running into Moira and everything that entailed, Sean isn't so oblivious as to not realize this is really just about finding something to keep his thoughts from heading to any of the old dark places and he hasn't suddenly turned over some festive new leaf. Really, it's almost the opposite, like he's cheapening genuine appreciation for the season by faking it for all the wrong reasons, but he doesn't care. He's up there, he's got his lights, he's got his Christmas spirit, and he's distracted enough by the simple act of not falling off for all the confusing thoughts and worries that having a girlfriend from the future show up apparently bring to be miles away. It'd be nice if he didn't have to look so damned ridiculous while he's at it, but it's a small enough price to pay for peace of mind, however brief.

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Meredith smiles, inexpressibly fond, something about the way he laughs getting to her. Slipping her arms up over his shoulders, she turns her head to kiss him lightly. "Something doesn't even begin to describe it," she says, smile turning sly. "Now you've actually got me looking forward to Christmas." That in itself has to be some kind of Christmas miracle. Bringing her legs up to rest against him, she brushing kisses along his shoulder, her movements still small and languorous. Whatever the holidays hold, however content she is just to lay here, the immediate future is pretty promising, too.

Well, he does aim to please. Sean sighs, letting his forehead rest against her shoulder and closing his eyes at the gentle brush of her lips. He's still on pins and needles, his body thrumming and yearning for more of her, wanting to leave them both feelings ravished and debauched, but when he speaks, there's a lazy, far-off quality to his voice. "Silly lights an' all?" he murmurs, smiling to himself.

"Silly lights and all," she sighs, nodding, giving in just a little. "Maybe even a tree." It's all so absurdly ordinary and Meredith doesn't really know what to do with all that, but there's a part of her that doesn't entirely mind the idea of a normal Christmas with him. Working her way up along his jaw, sucking lightly at his ear, she shifts under him, stretching her muscles. "Whatever you want."

Whatever he wants.

The things that Sean wants have always had to compete with each other, the urge for nice and normal and happy constantly at odds with the need for more. Even before Maeve died, the holidays tended to be lonely affairs for him, just because he was away more often than not. Now he has no say in the matter, nice and normal is the only path there is for him to take, and somehow he finds that, for once, he's glad for the lack of freedom because he wouldn't have everything else without it.

Moaning softly, he slides his hand along her body to cup a breast, leaning his weight on one elbow and pressing himself against her. "Want ye," he mutters, still stuck in that dream-like feeling, "everythin' else is jus'... bonus."

Meredith tips her head back, arching up into his touch with a small, high sound as her eyes fall shut. As good as it feels, his hand on her, the insistent press of his body, it's the words that wind up being most potent. Because, the thing is, she believes him. It's a little terrifying, believing that, being this sure he loves her, when she's been so uncertain of these things for so long, when she's so used to second-guessing — terrifying, but heady. Being all that matters — it would be impossible not to let that go to her head and her thundering heart.

She could make some crack about the lights or tell him the feeling is mutual. Instead she settles her hands against his face, pulling him toward her so she can kiss him, slow and deep. "You have me," she murmurs against his mouth. "Whatever you want. Tell me what you want."

What he wants is to marry her and live in a big place in the Irish countryside where they can make love every night and he'll never be allowed to make another decision for himself ever again, but not only is that all patently impossible, it's pretty far outside the scope of the moment. Still a nice thought, though.

"Want ta be inside ye," he sighs, not wanting to break that kiss for longer than absolutely necessary, running the back of his nails lightly along the curve of her breast. He has her, and she's got him just as fully, if not more. Most of the time that terrifies him because of how dangerous it is, but right now it's just a comfort. "Want ta make ye scream."

There's not a chance in the world she'll ever say no to that, not when his just saying that runs right through her, makes her so wet for him all over again. A whimper catching in her throat, she kisses him hard, nodding as she pulls back again, tracing her nails down his back. Desire tying knots in her belly, heart pounding under his touch, she opens her eyes to look up at him, and god, she just wants it to be like this forever — looking at him and needing him in her like this, loving him this much. "I want you so bad," she says, voice falling to a whisper. She doesn't trust it not to break with desperation if she talks any louder. "Need you so..." She shakes her head and kisses him again, figuring that has to be clearer than any words could be.

Sean makes a sound that's more growl than anything else, arching up into her touch and kissing her fervently. There's nothing as hot as this, that urgency in her voice, that look in her eyes, nothing that's ever set him off as much as being wanted so much. He's a simple man with simple pleasures, but in the right hands, even the simple things can be absolutely devastating, and Meredith's are about as right as they get. He should probably force himself to get up right about now, go grab a condom, but it's damn near impossible to break away with her under him like this, and he's busy sliding damp panties down her thighs anyway.

When he has her this wound up, this ready, his fingers moving over her skin and her hips lifting automatically to help him, even moments seem like forever. It makes focusing on anything outside of Sean more than a little difficult, but she has to, reaching blindly overhead to fumble for her pants (these days, when the least little thing has her on her back for him, it pays to be prepared, even if she sometimes forgets anyway). She kisses his throat, then tips her head back, exposing her own as she tries to look behind her to where they're out of reach. Stretching means shifting, breasts brushing against his chest in a way that draws another nearly inaudible gasp from her, and she barely even wants to bother.

His hearing might not be what it used to, but even the subtlest of sounds that she makes seem to ring in Sean's ears as clear as day. He looks up for just a second to see what she's doing as he moves to finish ridding her of what little clothes she has left before he's kissing her again, lips sucking at her neck, unable to resist taking advantage of the opening she's given him. It occurs to him that he's probably not making things any easier for her, but until she actually tells him to lay off, he can't be bothered to quit worrying at her skin with his teeth, not when he can feel her pulse under his tongue, can practically hear it.

Meredith stops straining to reach, fingers curling in and shoulders relaxing. It's too easy to get distracted by how good it feels, the slight tug of his teeth, the warmth of his tongue, the distant thought that that'll leave a mark. Sighing, she arches up toward his mouth, eyes closing, and every nip just makes her want more, makes her want him now. "Sean, wait," she murmurs, draping her arms over his shoulders again, sliding a hand to the back of his neck. "Wait. Condom. I can't reach." She really doesn't want him to stop at all.

Sean groans quietly in complaint, more petulant than anything, but in his defense, the way she wraps herself around him again seems really counterintuitive to making him stop. "Mmm, so?" he mutters against her skin in protest, but he's dragging himself up even as he says it, brushing a kiss across her temple as he forces himself to reach up and grope along the floor until he can grab the edge of her pants and drag them over. They're already far too lenient when it comes to remembering these things, but in the moments like this one, it's at least easy to understand why that is.

"So," she echoes, but there's no real reply, nothing to follow it up. Meredith's in no mood to get into that, not when he's already complying and she can watch him, rising up on her elbows just enough to take advantage of the movement to kiss along his chest. Twisting halfway onto her side, she searches blindly in the pockets. She'd be faster if she could just focus, she knows, but she'd rather pay attention to the slope of his shoulder, the line of his neck, the familiar taste of his skin as she nips playfully at him, smoothing over the tiny bites with her tongue. Distracted or not, though, it's a relief when her fingers close on the package and she pulls it out.

There's nothing frustrated in the way Sean groans this time around as he tips his head back for a second, eyes shut tight at the ministrations of her lips, her tongue, her teeth. No matter how familiar she feels, no matter how well he knows this, there's still a quality of 'new' to it all, like the past however many months have just been one long revelation that has yet to quit. "So," he sighs again, barely aware of it as he settles back against her. Kissing her deeply, he reaches up to pluck the packet from her fingers before he pulls back and opens his eyes to regard her with a teasing smirk. "Girl scout."

Meredith laughs, reaching up to push her hair out of her face. "I was never a girl scout," she says, "so I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure there's no contraception badge." If there isn't, she's reasonably certain there should be. It's sure as hell a lot more useful in terms of being prepared than knowing how to spot wildlife or sell cookies. "And one of us has to remember." Propping her head up with one hand, she reaches out with the other to rest against his arm, biting her lip as she watches him. It's only been a matter of moments, but she wants him back again already.

Sean's pretty sure they don't teach any of that in scouts, either, all her little gestures and looks and touches that all conspire to drive him wild and make him seriously lose his cool. No, those are all purely Meredith. "Maybe that's a sign that it should be one," he says with a quiet laugh, more out of a need for distraction than anything else as he rips open the wrapper and draws back onto his knees to roll the condom on with both hands. His hands might be steady, his movements sure, but all it takes is one glance at her, laid out like that in the flickering light of the fire, for him to know that underneath it all, he's anything but.

Meredith tries to stay put, really she does, but she's every bit as susceptible to the sight of him as he is to her and she's no good at pretending otherwise. Unable to resist any longer, she sits up, pushing herself up to kiss him again, running a hand over his chest and down, fingers trailing over his dick. "I'm pretty sure people would complain," she says, not really paying attention to the conversation anymore. She's got nothing to complain about right now, after all, except that she's still just sitting there.

Sean sucks in a harsh breath, hips jerking forward at her touch as he kisses her, desperate and rough no matter how he tries to keep on top of everything. "Let 'em," he mutters lowly, and while he's pretty sure that doesn't actually make all that much sense within whatever context they had going, he also doesn't care in the slightest as he kisses her again and pushes them both back down to the floor, one arm out to catch his weight. He barely gives either of them time to settle before he's positioning himself to slowly enter her, still not wanting to rush anything, but also thoroughly sick of dragging this part out. He's not made of stone.

Tumbling back, Meredith laughs, mostly just surprised and relieved, but it doesn't last long. It catches and stops and turns into a soft cry as he sinks into her, and truth be told, she's a little bit in love with his body right now, too, and the way he feels against her, inside her, part of her. It always feels like that should do the trick, be just enough to make all that wanting and anticipation die a little, but it never does. Slipping her arms over his shoulders, her hips lift up against his as she lifts her head to kiss him. She's not sure it'll ever really be enough, that she won't just spend the rest of her life wanting this.

Stifling a gasp with her kiss, Sean pauses for a moment to just take it all in: the press of her lips, the movement of her hips, the soft sounds, the arms around him, and that sensation of being buried inside her, so deep and so right. It's only a moment, though, and he's moving again, sucking her tongue into his mouth as he smoothly draws almost entirely out of her before pushing back in, losing himself in that slow, brutal drag. The things she does to him just by being herself, maybe they're dangerous in the long run, maybe they're terrifying in scope, but Christ are they good.

Pressing up against him, heart in her throat, Meredith just wants him close. It's not like he can get any closer and some of the desperation's gone out of her, but in moments like these, her fingers curled in his hair, tongues and limbs tangled together, all she wants is what she has. She's still not used to that, but it's hard to be thrown by it when it feels like it's supposed to be this way. If it's torturous — the way he moves inside her, drawing it out, how badly she wants more — it's somehow peaceful, too. Nothing seems to matter but the way this feels, the taste of him, the slide of his hips as she sighs into his mouth.

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[for Meredith]

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