Kyla Winchester

Josh

I knew it. The moment she’d gone, I mean.

It felt more concrete than when he’d taken his leave three weeks prior, though she — and likely the rest of the world — might have called me a liar.

No, I knew she’d gone because my soul felt his own breathe a sigh of relief. The feral, ancient content that radiated from his being, wherever it was, reached me loud and clear.

His great gig in the sky had fallen into place.

I, with my grief, and he, with his girl.

You see, Jacob passed on a night as still as glass. The universe was hushed. Did it understand?

Mother Earth quieted her creatures and calmed tempestuous skies for Jacob Thomas. Bowed in honor of the music man.

He, who created so much joyful noise, had earned a solemn silence.

I was there to watch Jake draw his last ragged breath, as I was witness to his first.

I told him, that still and cloudless day, that it was time to relax his fist. That he should let go of that rage for the dying of the light. “Learn to leave a room, brother. I’m sick of you.”

“Fuck you, Joshua.” Had been his response. That biting, perfect sentiment is tattooed upon my waning heart.

As the blues record spinning like a whisper in the corner skipped as though it somehow knew, she had fallen to the floor. Crumpled down against the scuffed wood like waterlogged tissue paper when the light in his eyes had gone out.

She’d been so strong for him.

When his memory failed, she was his unwavering hippocampus. She filled in the blanks happily, readily. She kept his mind whole by lending bits and pieces of her own.

Songs. She’d learned those too. Meticulized over the chords and frets of his favorites. When arthritis marched in to cruelly snatch the melodies from his hands, she’d done her best to make sure that the walls of their home always knew music from the hand of someone who knew how it craved him.

Yes, their home craved him.

Jacob’s gait had echoed the halls for decades. His voice, his laughter, tunes coaxed from strings. Sneezes muffled into the crease of his arm. Earnest timbres when he felt passionately about a subject. Murmured timbres secreted when he felt passionately about her in the night.

That house, the one he’d promised her, the one he’d built her, mourned for him like a living being. His absence hurt us all, even those inanimate. He became our collective lost limb.

But his sugar……

Every star in the sky might as well have been snuffed out. She no longer saw them. She simply closed her eyes and forgot anything beautiful that wasn’t her Jakey.

She held fast for her girls, two of them…and even faster for their third, a wild-child son who they both claimed was nearly my clone. I still think I might be the only one who sees it, how much like my twin my favorite nephew really is. He makes me feel less adrift, and there are many days when my grief is thankful for his anchor.

But yes, she had been strong for them.

They had lost their father, those babies of theirs who were so grown it was difficult to believe they were ever small to begin with….

However, as hours turned to days and they began to rediscover their rhythm, she turned desperately inward.

I tried to hold on to her. I struggled to keep her face upturned..fought to warm her cheeks with light rather than let her skin ache with the salt of tears. Tried to carry her through the way he would have.

In those moments, I know our hearts remembered the love. That seemingly endless well of devotion..the fire that once licked at the walls of anything that threatened to touch it insidiously.

She and I….

Once, it was she and I…

And how we burned.

But we loved him. We both loved him. So, so, much more. She and I never stood a chance, and maybe I knew that the moment I watched his eyes track her in that crowded bar so long ago I can’t remember when.

I miss him.

‘Miss’ feels like such a lie. A blatantly deceitful word. I don’t miss him…I lament and throb in my sorrow. I would swallow this entire world, gnash it to pieces and callously spit it out if it meant one more moment with him.

She was not alone in her grief. And she was never alone in her devotion to Jake.

I knew it wouldn’t be long. Knew she had yearned to stumble along behind him the moment he’d breathed his last.

He belongs to the ages now, I’d wanted to hush. He’d always thought those words, murmured after Lincoln had succumbed to his assassin, were reverent, and a touch pretentious in a way that he’d liked.

If anyone on this earth deserved reverent and pretentious, it was my other half.

But he didn’t belong to the ages then, and he doesn’t now…

He belonged— belongs, to her.

So yes, the night she left this world, I know he was there, watching in the shadows of the room they’d shared for so many years. He would have burned this entire universe to ashes to ensure she crossed over peacefully.

Jake’s sugar would come home to him, but she would make her way without so much as an unsure breath. Her hand was nestled within his before she could worry for a blink, I know this as well as I know the sun will rise tomorrow.

He would have died a thousand deaths in her stead if it meant she would know a gentle peace, always.

I dreamt of her the night after she’d gone to join him.

She was young again, and so was I…

The waters lapping at the shore were a strange, crystalline pink…shimmering and shifting like a cut glass held up to the light.

I reached out, tucked a salt-kissed lock of hair behind her ear, “He’s waiting for you,”

“Yes,” turning to the glittering, shifting haze where the sand disappeared, she’d sighed in the softest content, “…he is. It’s forever now, isn’t it?”

My hands cupped her face and held on gently for a breath “It is.”

I could feel her energy shifting, and I could feel his becoming, what I can only describe as tenderly impatient. So, with a brush of a kiss upon the apple of her cheek I asked one last favor of her,

“Will you tell him how much I love him?”

“Fuck, Jake– Please.”

Sweat beads at your hairline. Your thighs tremble around his shoulders. And he's not budging.

“Patience, baby,” he murmurs, resting his cheek against your thigh, his fingers slowly moving in and out of you. “You know you'll get it.”

“Want you inside,” you whine, rocking your hips gingerly.

“You'll have me, sweet girl, just breathe.”

You obey, taking a slow deep breath, an attempt to ground yourself, to calm yourself down and stop the tears welling in your eyes as he cruelly dangles your orgasm just out of reach.

You'd been like this for maybe only half an hour at most, but to you it truly felt like hours. And you hadn't even intended for any of this to happen, you planned for a quiet night in, just you and Jake. Skipping Josh's usual big celebration for a night of pajamas and wine and warm kisses that slowly turned into him settling between your thighs.

And now he was just being evil, his mouth kissing and suckling over your clit as his fingers cured and fucked into you slow as can be, unhurried and sadistic.

“Jake,” you try again, making your voice as soft and sweet as can be, “Please baby, I need you.”

“M'right here,” he says, before he runs his tongue over your clit again.

“Make me come,” you plead, “Please– I've been good.”

“I know you have,” he murmurs, “Such a sweet angel, aren't you?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, your breath catching when he works his fingers a little faster, curling up against the spongy bump that makes your toes curl into the sheets, “Fuck, Jake…”

He hums, his eyes glinting, “Oh, look at you,” he rasps, “My pretty girl, making a pretty mess all over my hand.”

“I'm so close,” you whine, “Please.”

He groans quietly, leaning in to wrap his lips around your swollen clit once more. You gasp, your back arching off the mattress as your body nears its end, your thighs quivering as your hands tangle into his hair.

You let out a weak cry of his name, your body tightening as it washes over you. Your mouth falls open, your breath halting as your body is drowned in pleasure, warmth spreading from your core to your limbs, covering you head to toe. He hums against you, encouraging, proud, and it makes you sob as it shoots tingling jolts of heat throughout your lower half.

Your body collapses, your head falling back into the pillows surrounding you as he slows, working you gently through the aftershocks, knowing exactly how you needed it.

Your chest heaves, your eyes falling shut as he reluctantly pulls away, pressing soft, tender kisses over your inner thighs, graciously letting you recover in peace. You hum when his fingers slip out of you, your pulsing walls mourning the feeling of him inside of you.

“I love you,” he whispers, his lips brushing over your skin, “Love you so much, my sweet baby… Fuck, I love you.”

“I love you,” you say, your voice small, rough as you comb your fingers through his hair, “Come here,” you ask softly.

He climbs over you without a second thought, capturing your lips with his own, his hands gentle as they cradle your face.

You let your hands trail down, your fingers slipping past the waistband of his sweats, pleased to find he's not wearing any underwear as you wrap your fist around his hardened length.

You pump your hand a few times, swallowing down the soft sound he hums into your mouth.

You let go of him only to tug his pants down, your lower half clenching around nothing at the sound of his cock slapping against his lower stomach as he's freed.

You grab him again, wrapping your thighs around his waist as you angle him to your dripping hole.

He pulls back just enough to watch, a light smug smile pulling at his kiss-swollen lips when you try your damnedest to push him inside of you. You can't, the angle awkward for you, and you let out a soft whine.

“You just settle down,” he teases softly, replacing your hand around him with his own as you practically drool over the sight of him.

“I can't,” you admit, “Want you too bad, Jakey.”

“I know,” he says quietly, his voice only slightly patronizing as he settles his knees on either side of your hips, leaning back in, your thighs wrapping around his waist, “You need it so bad, don't you baby?”

You nod, gasping softly when he slowly pushes inside of you. Painfully slow, inch by inch, making you feel every bit of him as you try to greedily take him further in with a wiggle of your hips.

He hums chastisingly, shaking his head as he lightly swats your thigh, “Just feel it, honey. Don't be greedy.”

“I do feel it,” you manage to say in a shaky voice as he bottoms out, filling you to the brim, “Fuck, you feel so good,” you sigh, “M'so full.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, glancing down between the two of you, “Fuck, I love seeing you take it all like this, Y/n.”

“I love you,” you breathe, “I love you, I love your cock– So big,” you can't shut up, like his dick has some sort of truth serum in it, making you spew out whatever comes to your mind, “You fill me up so good, Jake. Fuck me, baby, please. Give it to me.”

“I will,” he promises, his hand petting sweetly at your face, brushing your hair away as he peppers tiny kisses over your cheeks, “I'll give it to you, pretty girl, make you feel me for days, yeah?”

“Please,” you breathe, your head falling back when he slowly begins to rock his hips.

“Aren't you glad we stayed home tonight?” He asks softly, fucking into you slowly, gently, “No stupid party, no crowds, just us. Just this.”

“Just us,” you repeat, your eyes fluttering as he works up, quicker, harder. His hips hit the backs of your thighs with a quiet, muted sound that makes you clench around him.

He pulls back to look at the clock beside your bed, and you pout at the distance, before he grins at you as he leans back in, “Almost midnight, baby.”

“How much longer?” You manage to ask, your voice weak. He fucks you harder now, your wetness coating your thighs as his cock pistons into you with slick, lewd noises.

“Couple minutes,” he says, smiling softly at you, “What a way to ring in the new year, huh?”

“Fuck,” you say with a weak grin, “I think I like this better than your brother's stupid parties.”

“Don't talk about my brother when I'm inside of you,” he says, his voice dropping just a little lower.

“I didn't mean it like that–”

He cuts you off by pressing a hand over your mouth, “You don't think about anything but us,” he whispers into your ear, “About how fucking good this feels. How hard you're about to come all over my cock.”

You whine against his palm, grabbing his waist tightly, nodding as he slips his hand away to wrap loosely around your throat. Not to squeeze, just to hold you, to keep your eyes locked onto his as you both near your ends.

“Jake…”

A loud, yet muted boom echoes from outside your window, and your head jerks to the side as flashes of color fill the night sky. The familiar crackle of fireworks spreads through the room, lighting up the area slightly, far away to not be overwhelming, yet close enough to make your heart swell.

He huffs a breath of a laugh, grinning at you when you smile up at him, “Happy New Year, baby,” he whispers.

“Happy New Year, Jakey,” you breathe, grinning now as he surges forward.

His lips find yours hungrily, his fingers finding your clit at the same time. You gasp into his mouth, before you whine loudly, nearly overwhelmed by all of it.

The pleasure with every thrust of his hips, the fireworks lighting the night, the soft warmth and love bleeding from each of you into the other. It makes your eyes water, tears beading along your lashes as you sigh his name.

“Don't cry, angel,” he says softly, his lips kissing over your tears as they glide down your skin, “I’ve got you, baby, you're okay.”

“I just love you,” you whimper, “I love you.”

“I love you,” he says, his voice rough, “My sweet baby. C'mon, I can feel you squeezing me so fuckin’ tight, Y/n. Let me feel your pretty pussy come all over me.”

That seems to do you in, your body immediately falls into it, back arching off the mattress again, toes pressing into the bed, your entire body quivering with the force of your climax.

“That's it,” he breathes, “Good fuckin’ girl, Y/n– Fuck, honey, you're– Oh, fuck,” his own hips stutter, the rhythm knocked just a little, “You're gonna make me come, baby–”

“Come in me,” you plead somehow, your voice no more than a weak gasp of words, “Fill me up, Jakey, please–”

You barely finish your sentence before he grunts, his mouth falling open as he spills into you. Your head falls back again, your lips turned up in an open mouth grin as he fucks himself through his own ending. You're still riding out your own, the aftershocks making you twitch and rock against him as he slows to a stop.

“Fuck,” he says, his hands tight in the pillows on either side of your head, “Shit, baby.”

You huff a quiet giggle as he melts on top of you, careful not to put all of his weight on you, letting you breathe as he nestles into you. His lips find your heated skin, leaving soft kisses as you both recover.

You notice then that the fireworks have stopped outside, the room filled with a silence aside from your shared heavy breaths.

“I love you,” he says softly.

"I love you, Jake,” you reply, your shaky hand still raking through his tangled hair. Your other hand slips down his chest, feeling his heart beat hard against your palm.

He hums quietly, “I think this should be a new tradition.”

You giggle, meeting his eyes and nearly crying at the tenderness you see there, “Yeah, honey, I agree with you completely.”

He sighs, smiling softly at you, “You wanna get cleaned up and finish that bottle of wine in the fridge?”

“I'd love that more than anything.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, "Maybe we can go for round two after, how's that sound?”