missingthekeep | (no subject)

It takes Meredith a moment to answer, trying to make a decision when she doesn't want to think, a little self-conscious about the bruises. There's the possibility, more importantly, that seeing a reminder like that might change his mind, though they've faded considerably already. But he's right here and two weeks seems like such a long time when he's trying to get her undressed. She shakes her head as if clearing it and smiles, sitting up a little to make that easier. "Yes," she says on an exhale. "Very okay."

In response, Sean's lips quirk up into a lopsided grin as he focuses on getting her shirt up over her head with as little fuss as possible, but his movements slow once again when he catches sight of the bruises, fading purples and yellows spread across her abdomen that only serve to remind him of how bad this was. Far from changing his mind, though, they only end up goading him on further, making him that little bit more desperate for this. He wasn't there for her when it counted and she's paying the price, yes, but damn it, he's here now. That has to count for something, doesn't it?

"It's not that bad," Meredith murmurs, glancing down without quite looking at herself. She's usually so comfortable in her own skin, so confident in at least this one area of her life, and that only makes this awareness of the marks that little bit more unsettling. She believes what she said, though. This is just what little is left of the worst of the bruises. Cautious again more out of self-consciousness than self-concern, she leans forward to kiss him, one hand behind her, one at his neck.

"Still worse'n it should be," Sean quietly points out, sparing another glance at the marks before he tips his head to kiss her neck. It's not as if he could ignore them even if he wanted to, after all, but she's still herself, still perfect, still beautiful, and that's what matters in the end. "It's okay, though," he adds, mostly to himself. She obviously doesn't need the assurance.

Meredith makes an absent sound of assent, tipping her head to the side, hand slipping into his hair again. Awkward as she felt for a moment, there's little more familiar these days than his mouth on her skin and she knows she'll be fine soon. She's been longing for this, something ordinary in these difficult times, something they're good at, something that doesn't leave her feeling fragile and pointless. "It is," she says. "God, it feels like it's been forever."

"It's been hell," Sean replies, steadfastly ignoring the slight hitch in his voice as he marks a trail of wet kisses down to her collarbone and across her chest. "This last week, it- God, it's been hell." He means it solely as an agreement, referring only to their having to keep from falling back on this for so long, but it serves as an apt enough descriptor of his life in general, as well.

Arching up against him, Meredith moans softly. She understands, of course she does, and she knows the absence of sex isn't the only thing that's made things miserable, but it's hard to sound especially sympathetic just now. Propping herself back against the pillows, drawing him along with her, she smooths her hands over his back. "I know," she sighs. "It was. It was torture... That feels so good."

If there's one thing that's going to pull Sean away from all his vague feelings of self-pity, it's hearing her like that. Obviously, everything can't be all that bad. He looks up at her with a flash of a grin, drawing back for a split second as he tugs her bra down just enough for his mouth to close around one breast, at once entirely unhurried in his movements while too impatient to undress her properly.

The way that look alone sets her heart hammering in her chest can't be good for her. Meredith dismisses the thought as soon as it crosses her mind; shallow breathing minimizes strain, so it evens out. Either way, she presses up into his mouth with a soft whine, open-mouthed, nails pressing into his back. "That, too," she manages, hooking a leg around him, but it's always about wanting more, the desperation that makes it possible to forget how tired and unhappy she's been.

Sean's breath catches in his throat for a moment, but he doesn't let up any, taking his time as he mouths her breast, tongue laving over and around her nipple with just the occasional hint of teeth before he switches gears and moves to pay the same attention to the other one. It really does feel like it's been an eternity since he's had her before him like this, and maybe it's just the drink talking, but that strikes him as the most unfair thing in the world right now. This perfect creature who's always been good to him laying hurt, broken, while he's been unable to do a thing about it. She deserves better. She deserves this. "Ye get t'feel good," he whispers, only dimly aware that he's said it out loud.

There's a tiny part of her that never quite believes that, but it's effectively silenced now, guilt and doubt shoved wholly aside as Meredith stretches under him. Thoughts of her bruises go with them. Self-consciousness can't last long when he makes her feel like this so easily, everything he's doing running straight through her, making her gasp. That sharp, sudden intake of breath hurts still, but she tries to ignores that, too, her head falling back against the pillow, hand finding the back of his neck. "With you, I do," she says, moaning as she glances down to see him with his mouth around her. "Sean..."

Sean's first instinct at hearing any sort of limitation on that is to dispute it, but he shuts that thought up quickly enough; maybe he's nothing special, but it's not as if he wants her doing this with anyone else. "Meredith..." Lifting his head, he recaptures her lips with his own for a few long seconds, a lot of the urgency gone out of him now that he's actually got her the way he wants her, before he goes back to trailing soft kisses along her chest, between her breasts and lower.

Though it's tempting just to close her eyes, Meredith keeps watching him, trying to slow her breathing again. She rakes a hand through her hair, the careful, even breaths she takes at odds with her racing heart. Trying hard to keep still, she can't help squirming a little anyway. Even looking at him, knowing what he's doing, the faint pang accompanying the feel of his mouth on bruised skin manages to surprise her. That one, at least, isn't entirely unpleasant, or if it is, she misses it, lost somewhere beneath the growing anticipation. Her breath catches and sticks in her throat and she holds it without entirely noticing.

Sean's careful, keeping things light as he inches his way down to her stomach, but his eyes flick up to her face as he does, almost afraid of looking down again. "'Sat hurt?" he cautiously asks, still close enough for her to feel his breath on her skin.

The lie she wants to give sticks in her throat, too, and Meredith bites her lip a moment, not wanting to be brought back down to earth by questions like this. It's barely anything and he's so close to her; she just wants him to keep going, to forget for a moment that she's still not quite healed. "A little," she says, reaching down to touch his cheek. "Not really."

"Sorry," Sean whispers automatically, but he doesn't pull away, instead forcing himself to take in the bruises again as he noses gently along her belly. There's no forgetting about them for him, not right now, no matter how much he wishes that weren't the case.

Meredith shakes her head. "It's okay," she says. "It feels good more than it hurts." As long as that stays true, she decides, she's entirely justified in rushing a little, and she can't see how it could possibly change. Her desire to make him feel less like he needs to apologize fades as he moves, worry replaced with wanting as she arches unthinkingly toward him.

Sean's about to protest, unthinking, about how it shouldn't hurt at all, but then she's pressing up toward him and his mouth's on her once more, with far more important things to do than complain. Lingering with his lips roaming the skin just above the top of her jeans as he settles between her thighs, he runs one hand back down the leg she's got around him while the other smooths carefully over her stomach. "Ye're so beautiful," he says, his words a slurred sigh as he looks up at her. Dimly, he's aware that she likely just wants him to just get on with it already, but for some reason, the observation seems like an important one right now.

Meredith ducks her head a little, smiling. She's aching for more, so aware of him, his touch, his breath on her skin, but it's been so long that she sees no reason to rush. Not, anyway, when he's going to say things like that. The way he looks at her and sounds — when he says it, she believes him. "Am I?" she asks anyway, a little breathy. She bites her lip and her tone turns teasing. "You're pretty hot yourself." As far as she's concerned, it's the understatement of the year, but she always feels a little self-conscious, expressing in words just how ridiculously attractive she finds him, like it isn't evident already.

While he's still not in any great rush, happy to be right where he is, that does light a bit of a fire beneath him, and Sean grins, stifling a quiet laugh against her hip. "Am I?" he asks, too innocently pleased with the notion to act otherwise right now as he moves to undo her jeans.

"Don't laugh at me," Meredith says, but she can't quite shake that hazy little smile on her face. "You are. You're..." She can never quite figure out the word she wants, and it's not any easier now with him where he is. "Very sexy." It comes out almost a sigh. Licking her lips, she slips a hand under herself to unclasp her bra, never quite looking away.

She's got him mesmerized as it is, and that added distraction proves almost too much as Sean only barely resists the urge to go back to his previous task once her bra's out of the way. In the end, he compromises, reaching up to cup a breast with one hand while he slowly tugs her pants down her hips with the other. "Whate'er I am, luv," he says, husky-voiced as he rakes his eyes across her body, bruises and all, "ye're doin' yer damnedest t'leave me in the dust."

Meredith moans softly, pressing up into his hand a moment before she focuses on lifting her hips instead. Settling on slipping a hand over his, she squirms under him, desperate for more after going without for too long. The more of her skin is exposed, the more she wants him to touch. "Well, it helps that I'm losing all my clothes," she says with a crooked grin, her injuries all but forgotten for now. "You'll catch up. God, Sean..."

"That is a plus, aye," Sean says, helping that line of thinking right along as he pulls her jeans off. He really hates having to move in order to do so, perfectly content right where he is, but he doesn't actually want to make her wait forever, so it proves to be a worthwhile sacrifice on his end. Really, anything that reveals more of that glorious body of hers (fragile, maybe, but aren't they all?) would just about have to.

Meredith moves to accommodate him, raising her legs, flexing her toes. She stretches, arms moving up over her head, just enjoying the freedom of it. That lasts a bare moment or two before she hooks a leg over his shoulder to draw him closer again, laughing a little. Anything that brings him nearer works for her; she's hyper-aware of the way her pulse seems to have settled between her legs, of how badly she wants him to follow suit. "Definitely a plus," she says. "I'm completely in favor of less clothes."