missingthekeep | [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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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.

[for Meredith]

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