He’s trying to go to sleep. Trying to ignore the shallow tent in his boxers. They’d been unpacking all day and she was asleep before her head even hit the pillow. She’d practically sleepwalked into the bathroom, out of the shower, dropping her towel once she was in the bedroom.

Her hair was still so wet that it dripped on her shoulders, the droplets falling slowly down over the tops of her breasts. The only light on was her bedside lamp and when she sat down at the edge of the bed, the shadows cast over her naked back, and – seriously? He wasn’t made of stone. Or. He shook his head, watching as she stretched out to put lotion on her legs. Smooth. Even when she was a zombie she shaved them. He pressed his hand down against himself, chewing on his lips, and she got up again to put on her pajamas.

Now she’s snoring lightly, just a soft catch with every inhale, and he presses his lips together as he stares at her. She wears these sweet little nightgowns – soft and cotton with thin straps – that barely cover her ass. It’s incredibly sexy. Even more so than the slinky satiny things Karen would wear sometimes – not that he didn’t appreciate those as well.

He can still smell the lotion she applied after her shower. Her hair is still damp. He reaches his hand out and delicately takes a tendril of hair that’s fallen in her face to tuck it back, and her nose crinkles as she turns her head so more hair falls in her face. He smiles in the dark. He wonders if living with her is going to turn him in to that guy. The one who is constantly hounding her for sex but she’s tired. He can’t even contain himself when she’s getting ready for bed.

They live together now. It sends a shiver through him like when he was a kid and he’d wake up and realize it was Christmas morning. Like when he was in high school and was trying to sleep the Sunday after they won state imagining how awesome Monday was going to be. He’s generally excited with his life. Something he’s wanted to feel again for so long.

He finally digs up the courage to gather her in his arms – albeit gently. She shifts and presses her nose into his throat, her arms folding against his chest. He never likes to wake people up, especially when they're genuinely tired. But, tomorrow is Sunday and they can sleep in.

He soon regrets his decision to cuddle when the stirring in his boxers reaches his attention again – with more force now, because he can feel her breath on his skin. She’s too close for him to sneak out of bed without really waking her now, and it would just be embarrassing to jerk off in the bathroom if she were awake.

He shifts his hips slightly to find a more comfortable position and her knee snakes between his. He knows his erection is resting heavy on her upper thigh; knows he isn’t going to be able to get to sleep now. He can feel her naked against him, her nightgown bunched at her abdomen. She snuggles further in to him, causing him to rub against her and he closes his eyes tight. He makes a decision – holds his breath and begins untangling himself from her. He has one foot on the floor and is easing the other down from the bed.

“Hey, where are you going?” Her voice is thick with sleep and it shoots straight to his groin.

He hitches a thumb over his shoulder, “Bathroom.”

“Come back to bed.” He turns his head to the doorway, for effect, before looking back at her. “Come back to bed.” It’s more pointed this time. Like each word is punctuated with its own meaningful period. He purses his lips and gets back in bed.

“Sorry I woke you up.” He turns on his side, facing her, with his knees bent.

“It’s okay,” she stretches an arm over her head, arching her back and her breast is perfectly outlined by the cotton, pressing toward him. On instinct, he frames it with his hand, rubbing his thumb over the underside.

Her tongue swipes over her bottom lip and he takes that as his cue, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her open mouth. He feels her hand trail down over his side as goosebumps appear in its wake, and then her fingers are trailing over the waistband of his boxers, around to the front and sneaking inside.

“I don’t think you’ll find an offer this good in the bathroom,” she whispers against his cheek, kissing him there as he laughs lightly.

“I’d be hard-pressed to find one anywhere,” he looks at her, his tone on the verge of sincere, but she just raises her eyebrows at him.

“You’re hard-pressed?”

“Hm. C’mere,” his hand presses firmly to her lower back and she complies, her lips parting under his. She takes him in her fist, squeezing gently, and he exhales roughly through his nose, his forehead pressing against hers as he breaks the kiss.

“I love you.”

“You’re just saying that because I’m touching you like this.” She knows he means it, and he knows she knows.

“Fair enough,” his voice is strained as his hips jut forward into her grip. He enjoys her gentle full-fisted strokes, with her slender fingers fluttering over the tip on each upstroke, so much different than how he does it himself. He twists away from her slightly and she gives him one final squeeze before withdrawing her hand, resting it on his forearm. He kisses her neck, pulling her nightgown up to her breasts with one hand, were he can lay his palm flat against her – soft, and pliable under his hand. She sighs as he takes her nipple between his lips. She feels the hint of his teeth, but mostly his tongue – warm and wet. He moves to lie between her legs, covering her breasts with his hands and kissing her stomach, just above her bellybutton. She puts her hands over his and pushes them further down, to her hips. He looks up at her, can feel her stomach flutter and jump as he kisses her there, and lower. He kisses the cleft of her thigh when her legs fall wider open for him.

“Jim,” she sighs when his tongue parts her lips. He presses his middle finger inside her, twisting it to feel her clench around him. She lets her eyes fall shut, her head pressed against the softness of her pillow. Her breathing is deep and even and he almost thinks she’s falling asleep, so he finds that spot inside her, and lets his lips barely close around her clit and she’s arched off the bed, her hands clenching the sheets at her sides.

“Okay,” it was a whimper but it held a sense of authority. “I want you now.”

He pulls back, breathing against her, then covers his mouth with his hand and wipes the slight remnants of her away before crawling up to eye-level. He supports his weight with one arm at her shoulder, pulling his boxers down with the other and twisting his legs and feet until he’s rid of them completely. She smiles. And he makes a face at her, which makes her smile a different kind of smile and she puts her hand to the side of his face. Sometimes he feels like a teenager around her.

He reaches down to hold himself at her entrance, and pushes all the way in, causing her to move slightly with the invasion.

“Okay?”

She nods, wrapping her arms under his to grip his shoulders and pressing her knees up to clench at his sides.

“Oh, God.” She relaxes against him, her eyes hazy, and he’s in so deep. It just feels good. They were at this perfect place in their relationship where they’d trained each other on what they liked most, and he was doing it all right now. Finally his knack for remembering and recording things was being put to good use. Watching her face contort and her head twist to the side just makes it better. She starts squeaking little moans and he feels himself drifting.

“Pam? Pam,” he hadn’t been expecting all of this, and he is embarrassingly close. His arms are shaking and his hips are keeping his thrusts shallow. Her eyes open and he knows she can read him like a book.

“Just. Faster. Just go faster.”

He does, and he is just there. Just at the right angle to – “God, Jim.” She is whimpering affirmations – yes, yeah, good – and her eyes are closed tight. He feels her fluttering erratically around him and tries to wait until she’s finished. Until it’s just a slight twitch every few seconds, but she presses her hips in to his and her nails bite into his back and he’s a goner.

With one low moan, he bites the inside of his lips and lets go – his cheeks flushing. He pushes hard inside her and waits for the waves to subside, dropping his head to press a kiss on her forehead. She can hear the guttural sounds in his throat—like the air in his lungs is being caught and forced. Her hands come up to cup his face, and he breathes hard through his nose.

After a few beats he moves to rest beside her, keeping her firm in his arms and pressing his nose against her shoulder.

“Don’t you need to go to the bathroom?”

He breathes a laugh, pinching her side lightly.

“No?”