#lukerosa

Or handle a cranky Vyn Richter before 10 a.m. when the need for early morning meetings arose. Not that he ever snapped at her. But holding him back from throttling Marius — and occasionally, Artem — was still a great feat, okay?

And then there was Artem Wing — sweet, over-compensating Artem — always so composed and patient, until it came down to social situations and non-critical decisions. How a man could argue in court so confidently, yet short-circuit when faced with the challenge of picking out a single restaurant, was beyond her. She’d pulled him out of enough social disasters to confidently claim that he’d grown dependent on her for moral support (no, she will not elaborate).

But none of them were the problem today, no. 

It was Luke.

And, you know — the sudden, jarring realisation that this guy was attractive. Hold on, I know how this sounds — like pointing at the morning sky and expressing surprise that it’s blue — yeah, yeah. Go ahead, roll your eyes at me all you want. 

The issue was that she didn’t just find him attractive —  she wanted to jump his bones. It was a holy-shit-he’s-ridiculously-sexy problem. A can’t-look-him-in-the-eye-anymore problem.

But we’ll circle back to that in a bit.

It all started with Marius.

(As did most ridiculous things these days, apparently. Even when he wasn’t directly involved, he’s always somehow linked to the mess. Go figure.)

Marius had suggested — no, demanded — that they go on vacation. A little odd, yes, given his tendency to overwork himself while pretending to be a jolly bastard the entire time. But then again, with Marius, a little oddity was the standard (affectionate).

The rest of the NXX had been feeling tempted yet reluctant — herself included — yet they agreed eventually. Because when Marius von Hagen set his mind to something, resistance was futile. And, really, it seemed harmless enough — they could all use a break.

It was a harmless endeavour. Or it was supposed to be.

Until Luke Pearce started strutting around the vacation house in shorts (that showed off his shapely calves and tight ass) and short-sleeved shirts (that showed off his guns and made Rosa’s mouth water, however shamefully). 

Case in point: she was not feeling all that calm and collected at the moment.

She was horny. 

And frustrated, but mostly horny.

All because Luke Pearce was driving her up the wall with his innocent smiles and chiselled abs and sexy thighs. Darn those sexy thighs. Rosa wanted him to do so many unspeakable things to her with them.

Again, the issue wasn’t  that she just found Luke sexy — everyone and their grandmother already knew the man was fine as hell. The issue was that she got all hot and bothered after watching him glisten with sweat, flushed from the heat, after an intense game between the guys —  sans Vyn. 

And then he had the audacity to jog up to her after winning the game too, all puppy-like, with that damp hair and sexy muscles. 

Rosa was having a crisis.

This was Luke. Her childhood friend, for fuck’s sake. 

Seeing him in various states of undress in the past had never been a big deal, but now that she’d come to the startling realisation that Luke was no longer the sweet boy from her teens — and that he was, in fact, jacked beneath all those oversized clothes and ugly Christmas sweaters — it was hard to not acknowledge his obvious sex appeal.

(In a corner of her brain, Rosa felt deep shame for sexualising this man so much, but he was making it so hard for her to behave. Someone please help her out and wrap this man in a blanket burrito.) (Rosa had an inkling that this... crush(?) wouldn't quite go away, even then, she supposed. She'd always liked him.) (...Now wait a minute—)

The last straw had been running into Luke right after he'd stepped out of the shower with his hair damp and a towel loosely draped over his hips, looking like he'd stepped out of a goddamn wet dream.

Rosa felt all guilt leave her on the spot. He was wet. Oh for fuck's sake—

He’d sheepishly told her that he had forgotten his clothes in his room. 

She believed him, of course. 

Didn’t help her situation, though.

Of course, he hadn't noticed her ogling, either — despite being a secret agent who had top-tier instincts. Instead, he had given her a confused and apologetic little smile and walked off. He could be so dense sometimes.

This wasn’t her first rodeo – come on. She was constantly surrounded by gorgeous men, often caught in suspiciously frequent and — ahem — thought-provoking situations for it to be really coincidental, but… 

This was different.

This was Luke. Her Luke. 

And now she couldn’t stop thinking about what lay beneath that towel— 

Rosa groans, realising — with the clarity of someone who had been too single for too long — that her brain was firmly lodged in the "no thoughts, only horny" territory. She turns in bed, determined to steer away from this downwarn spiral by thinking of the most random shit ever. 

She was too tired to take care of the tingling between her legs. 

All she had to do was not think of him.

Simple. Should be easy. 

Her brain, however, had other plans. The traitorous, thirsty little bastard. 

Instead of cooperating, it chooses to play out various inconvenient flashbacks of All The Sexy Things That Luke Has Done In Her Presence So Far™. 

Like the way he’d stretched that morning after his jog, arms raised high above his head, shirt riding up just enough to show off a sliver of tan skin and —  fucking hell, was that a happy trail?! Rosa had promptly inhaled her coffee down the wrong pipe after that.

Ohhhh and let’s talk about the way he looked during the game, all focused and sharp and so damn sexy. 

That wasn’t enough though. Her brain began digging through the various past instances that she’s filed away into a corner of her brain.

Like that one time he'd gotten in the tub with his clothes on when they were on a secret mission of his and he was trying to sober up without making her uncomfortable. As if he was even capable of doing something that would upset her. 

The only times Rosa ever felt the urge to smack him silly was when he prioritised others — often herself — over his own wellbeing, or when he was on one of his rants about burdening her and the others even if they made it clear it was no trouble.

How could he think that, was beyond Rosa. But it wasn’t all that much of a surprise. He's got a bad case of Catholic Guilt and NXX as a whole was willing to fight him for it. 

Not that they stood much of a chance in strength. Maybe Marius could hold out for a few minutes. Maybe. But don’t tell him that. 

Luke was freakishly strong, even if he hid it under gentle hands and soft touches. 

Hmm. Luke has rather strong hands. And arms. Oh, his shoulders… that back…

NOPE.

With a jolt, Rosa realised where her brain was barrelling towards, once again. She grabs the nearest pillow beside her and tries to smother herself with it.

Ugh. Goddamn it all. 

Damn Luke Pearce. 

Damn everything.

But complaining does not make her need go away. Neither does trying to not think about him. So as a single woman with needs, she feels like she has to do something about the situation between her legs so she can hurry up and go to sleep. 

Something like maybe masturbating to the fantasy of him, shirtless, looking at her through his lashes as a single droplet of water falls from his hair. It runs down his collarbone and down his chest, gaining momentum as it travels down, down, down, before disappearing into the waistband of his shorts –

Rosa groans. Looks like she really, really liked seeing Luke wet. Cause all her fantasies were either that, or something to do with his mouth. 

Especially if that mouth was on her. 

Giving up, Rosa sits up, pulling off her shorts, followed by her underwear, before getting comfortable on her back with her legs propped up and knees spread apart. She breathes out slowly, brushing a hand down her front, all over from her neck, her collarbone, then her clothed chest, over her hardening nipples, her stomach and finally to her heat, finding herself a little wet already.

She closes her eyes, letting her head fall back against the pillow. She did not have her trusty battery-operated friend with her, which was a shame. But she hadn’t thought about trying to, you know, get off while she was here.

Shaking off her thoughts, she focuses on the Now, and the How.

She imagines what Luke would be like in bed, what he would do if he was the one touching her. Would he be like his usual self, soft, gentle, and giving her everything she wants? He would no doubt prioritise her wants above his. 

But what if he was the opposite? What if he’d prefer teasing and making her beg, edging her until she was pleading with him to fuck her senseless? That seemed a little OOC, but she couldn't help the little shiver of pleasure that passes through her at the thought.

Or maybe he would prefer for her to take control – to undo him. Maybe he’d be needy, submissive, letting her have her way with him. He’d listen to everything she tells him, whining at her to let him touch her while she teased him. He would look at her with his big eyes, watching her carefully, colour high on his cheeks as he laid underneath her, eager to be good. Eager to please. Eager to be praised.

She bites her lip, fingers ghosting over her folds, pressing into the wetness, rubbing circles in a slow rhythm before switching to upwards strokes — teasing herself lightly, barely touching. She imagines his hands in place of hers: warm. Calloused. Greedy.

Letting out a quiet whimper, Rosa lets herself feel, as her scent fills the air. In her mind, Luke’s on his knees, burying his face between her thighs, eating her out as his plush tongue fucked in and out of her cunt.

She pictures him pressing her back into the mattress, his hands holding her thighs apart to keep her from closing her legs on him, groaning as he greedily drinks her in.

Gentle, clumsy, beautiful Luke. 

The same Luke who always smiled at her like she was his whole world. Oh, he would be so good to her. So good for her.

Rosa moans, one hand playing with her left tit, rolling and pinching a nipple between her fingers, gathering more slick and circling her clit with the other, sighing Luke’s name.

She imagined how he'd react the first time he would touch her like this — how he would stare at her, how he'd kiss her, how he'd worship her with every touch and breath.

"Fuck—" Rosa hisses, barely audible, trying to stifle her moans. The others were probably asleep, but they weren't so far away. She couldn't get caught.

But Imaginary Luke was making it hard for her. The coil in her belly wound tighter, pleasure building. She knew she was close. 

Lost in her touches, she lets herself just feel.

Frowning, Luke sits up in bed, wondering what it was that had woken him. 

It was one of the downsides of having a hyper alert brain and sleeping anywhere other than his bed. It didn’t help that he was a rather light sleeper. It seemed that all that moving and playing he’d done during the day wasn’t enough to grant him a restful sleep for long.

He shifts his pillows, kicking off the sheets and attempts to lay down again. He spends the next few minutes attempting to let his mind relax and lull himself back to sleep – but it is useless. Frustrated, he sits up again, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

He’s contemplating how to pass time – perhaps he should take a walk or something – when he hears something odd.

It sounded like… someone talking? A quick look at the digital clock tells him it’s a little past 11 p.m. Hmm… the others had gone to bed early today. Were they still up?

Abandoning all other attempts to sleep, he gets up, trudging out quietly when he hears it again — a sound from Rosa’s room at the end of the hallway. It had to be coming from her room — all the others had taken up rooms in the ground floor.

He steps closer, trudging up to her room when he hears his name. It sounded as though she was calling for him, but her voice was… off. Now a little worried, he hurries to her door, about to demand what was wrong when his breath catches in his throat. The door was left slightly ajar, giving him quite the view of what she was up to, lying on her back, one hand on her – oh god, was she touching herself?!

Shocked doesn’t begin to describe what he feels —  he watches in silence as her other hand squeezes one breast desperately while calling his name. Heck, she was moaning his name. Luke swallows hard.

Was he… dreaming?

Wetting his lips with his tongue, he pinches himself on the arm. Hard. The sharp jolt of pain has him snapping out of the shock, heat rushing to his face immediately, colouring his face and neck red.

Ow, oh god. Oh fuck. What was happening?!

He hesitates a little, watching her continue to touch herself, eyes squeezed shut and his name on her lips as little sighs escape her, her free hand slipping into her shirt, playing with her chest.

The view, though angled away from her, as him reacting immediately — he feels his blood rush to his cock, tenting his pants and breath quickening as he watches her. 

There’s a voice of reason somewhere at the back of his mind, telling him to look away. To walk away. He shouldn’t be standing here like a creep, watching her masturbating to the thought of him. He shouldn’t be so fucking turned on, it screams at him, but the voice of reason dies when Rosa arches her back and moans once again. He unconsciously steps forward, as if hypnotised by the sounds that escaped her, drawing him to her.

And he bumps right into the doorframe, accidentally pushing the door open by a little with a short creak – enough for Rosa to notice.

Rosa, startled out of the moment, jolts up immediately, whipping her head around, eyes wide and face flushed.

“Luke?!”  Rosa shoots up from her bed, panicked as she grabs the pillow beside her and tries to cover herself. 

Oh god. Rosa wishes the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

Luke stays rooted to the spot for several moments, frozen and caught red-handed, mouth opening and closing wordlessly. His face is scarlet, and Rosa could practically see the wheels in his head going into overdrive, and she would tease him if she wasn’t so embarrassed herself.

She clears her throat, pulling the nearest piece of clothing – her discarded shorts – and drapes it over her lap, hiding whatever wasn’t covered by the pillow.

That snaps him out of his shock as he takes a step back immediately, his hands lifting in front of him as if to shield himself from the sheer intensity of the situation.

“I! Rosa—!” He stammers, tripping over her name as he tries to form a coherent apology. “I’m so sorry! I— I didn’t mean… I mean, I thought you were in pain!”

He turns away completely, facing away from the general direction of her room, looking like he was about to bolt.

“I’m so sorry, I’ll go now—!” He takes a step back, tripping over his feet, clearly intending to run out of the hallway, and maybe out of the goddamn country.

Which would be quite unfortunate. Rosa did not want that.

Flushed and breathless, both from mortification and arousal, Rosa blurts out the first thing that comes to her mind.

“Luke, wait—! Don’t go.”

He stops, face still angled away from her, shifting on his feet awkwardly, still looking like he’s about to run.

Rosa bites her lip hesitantly. He didn’t seem… disturbed by what he had seen earlier. Startled, yes. But she’d caught the expression on his face, a split second before he’d been caught, and… well. Rosa didn’t have anything but hope that it was probably one of desire.

“Luke.” She calls once more, voice quiet. Luke hesitantly looks over his shoulder, his eyes catching on hers. He immediately averts his eyes to the wall behind her. “Luke, don’t leave.”

His eyes come back down to rest on her face, searching her eyes, wide and unsure.

“You… don’t want me to leave?” he asks, sounding a little strained. The heat in his eyes returns, though it’s tempered by hesitation – and guilt. Rosa squeezes the pillow on her lap, heart racing.

She knows what’s happening. What she’s doing. More or less. But the guilt in his eyes makes her hesitate. The last thing she wanted was to make him feel obligated or, worse, manipulated into anything.

“Yes, I want you to stay.” She says anyway, hoping he sees her intentions clearly. She wanted this. She wanted him. “I want you to come in, if you’d like.”

She internally cringes at herself. Wow, what a way to get a guy to crawl into your bed, I guess. But it seems to work, because she sees Luke’s Adams apple bob nervously as he processes her invitation.

“Rosa…” His lips part slightly, and he takes a single step towards, as if in a trance. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to… pretend I didn’t see anything.” He clears his throat. “I won’t forget the way you looked just now.”

Rosa lets a smile touch her lips then, tone firm as she answers. “Then don’t.”

Luke looks… conflicted. Aroused. Hungry. All at once.

But he doesn’t move.

Sighing a little, she lets herself take control of the situation.

She reaches a hand out for him to take — a silent invitation. She knows that he wouldn’t make a move, not unless she gave him a clear green light that she wanted this too. She moves to the edge of the bed, leaving the pillow and her flimsy shorts on her lap — for modesty’s sake — and relaxes her posture.

“I want you.” She says, gaze locked onto his. She swallows nervously, feeling a little shy under his intense stare. “I want you to stay. With me. Tonight.”

His fingers flex at his sides, fists clenching and unclenching, catching her attention. God, his hands, his fingers. She wanted them all over her. Inside her.

Her eyes flick back to his face just as he seemingly makes up his mind. He crosses the short distance easily, letting the door fall shut with a click behind him. He looks at her once more, seeking assurance, before he turns the lock too.

So, he was staying. Rosa feels the anticipation begin to build low in her belly as he takes her hand, coming to stand right before her knees, their legs brushing.

Rosa smiles up at him, gently tugging him forward until he rest one knee on the mattress next to her thigh, inches away from her face.

She lets go of his hand then, reaching up to cradle his face, thumbs brushing lightly across his cheekbones.

His honey eyes, warm and reverent, scan her face.

“I wanted you long before you caught me,” she feels a blush crawl up her neck at the admission. “Though I only realised it recently.” She laughs softly, watching a slow, pleased smile touch his lips. “I just didn’t want to show it like that.” She grumbles with a pout, causing his smile to turn goofy.

“You’re pretty.” Is all he says. His own hands come up to touch her face. His palms, warm and calloused, cradle her face, and Rosa melts into his touch.

Rosa can’t hold back anymore. She’s run out of all patience. So she reaches up, tugging him down to kiss him on the lips.

The kiss is soft. Gentle. Testing the waters. Rosa belatedly thinks of how her hands had been… places before she touched his face. The realisation comes with more embarrassment, but she doesn’t have time to react. Not when Luke, finally caving, lets out a low groan, no longer hesitating as he opens his mouth to her, kissing her harder.

His hand slides into her hair, tugging lightly as the other trails down to the side of her neck, pulling her even closer to him. The kiss deepens quickly, laced with a desperation that both of them feel, all restraint forgotten.

They only pull apart to breathe, staying close as Luke’s breath fans across her mouth.

“Rosa…” Her name on his lips is almost reverent. “Are you sure?”

To show how sure she is, she shoves the pillow off of her lap, along with the shorts, and pulls him down on top of her, falling back onto the mattress with him on top of her. The breath whooshes out of Luke in surprise, as he quickly braces himself against the mattress with his arms, avoiding bashing his head into her face or crushing her with his weight.

Rosa lets a mischievous grin play on her lips as her hands sneak up his sides and up his shirt, sliding over the smooth taut skin of his torso.

“Stay the night,” she whispers against his lips, “and find out.”

That does it. He exhales shakily, one arm remains planted beside her head, supporting him as his other hand trailed down her side to rest on her bare hip. Her shirt must have ridden up, and with him so close to her, she could feel the heat of his body just scant centimetres from her core.

She tugs him down, pulling him flush against her, so she could feel the line of him, the hardness of his clothed erection pressing into her upper thigh.

The sudden contact coaxes a grunt out of him.

“Goodness, Watson,” he murmurs against her jaw, trailing soft, open—mouthed kisses down her neck. “You drive me crazy.”

She arches into him when he kisses a spot beneath her ear, suckling gently, before nipping at the skin there lightly. She cards a hand through the hair at the back of his head and tugs a little harshly.

She didn’t mind the way he was taking his time with her, but she was feeling so needy. She wanted him now.

“Luke.” She breathes impatiently. “Stop talking and get moving.” 

He chuckles against her throat, but obliges. He shifts lower, hands running along her sides, squeezing a little as his mouth trails lower, pressing kisses along the way. He skips her chest, leaving her shirt on as he kisses her stomach once before he sits up, pulling away completely to stand at the edge of the bed.

Rosa, startled, props herself up on her elbows to watch him, pulse thudding in her ears.

“What are you doing?” She demands. Luke doesn’t answer.

Not with words, at least.

Instead, he lowers himself slowly, purposefully, and drops to his knees so that he’s near eye—level with her throbbing cunt.

The action catches her off guard, making her fully sit up as her eyes widen.

Rosa had fantasised quite a few things since this miserable-slash-fun vacation began: Luke on top of her, or bending her over, even this current position - with him on his knees, looking up at her.

Turns out, the real thing is much, much better than whatever she had fantasised.

When he places a hand on her calf gently, dipping his head to kiss her right knee before he looks up at her through his lashes, she feels a breath shudder out of her, anticipation building low in her belly.

Luke kept looking at her, watching for every shift in her expression, as he pressed another light kiss on her leg, now a little higher than her knee. Rosa keeps quiet as he kisses his way up her thigh, bordering close to where she wants him, when he suddenly does something unexpected — his teeth flash out, and he bites her — gently, but oh god, on the inner side of her thigh. Rosa gasps lightly as his tongue immediately follows, swiping hotly over her skin to soothe the sting. He presses another kiss there, letting a little grin play on his lips.

“Luke,” Rosa breathes, her tone a warning — or maybe a plea. She was sick of being teased — both by the mental fantasies as well as this goddamn guy who was insistent on taking his time to drive her insane, as if she wasn’t burning up from the inside out.

But he just hums low in his throat, but he ignores her reproach otherwise, continuing to leave kisses on her skin, until his mouth was hovering over her pussy, his breath fanning over her. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. He was so close — and still not close enough.

“You’re shaking,” he murmurs, voice thick. He peered up from between her thighs, eyes glazed with want, colour high on his cheeks and pupils blown wide with desire. “I haven’t even touched you yet."

“That’s the problem,” Rosa hisses, one hand going to his head to bury in his hair. “Stop teasing and get on with it—”

Luke doesn’t need to be told twice.

He dives in, his tongue — hot and wet — drags a slow, deliberate stripe through her folds, and Rosa lets out a choked moan, hips bucking in response. She leans back on an elbow, the other clutching him still. The position is a little awkward on her stomach, but all thoughts leave her head when he tightens his hold on her, arm looping beneath her thigh and prying her legs apart, holding her down like he’s a man possessed.

Rosa is able to hold herself up for all of five seconds before she flops down on the mattress, clutching the sheets as a means to hold on.

He moans into her softly — like he’s the one being wrecked. Like he’s the one feeling jolts down his spine from each stroke of a tongue.

She’d always know Luke was… good with his mouth. Luke’s oral fixations were rather distracting. She had first hand witnessed him doing that stupid tying a cherry knot with your mouth thing that he’d been riled up into doing, back when they were still teenagers. She knew what that mouth was capable of.

This, on the other hand, was something else.

God, was he experienced? Rosa thought that impossible. Luke wasn’t one for flings — and as far as she knew, he’d never had a partner before.

Her thoughts briefly flash to when he revealed to her that going on missions with a woman on his arm was something that was occasionally expected of him as an NSB agent.

Rosa feels her mouth go sour at the thought of another person getting to experience this side of Luke. White hot jealousy burns through her at the mental imagery. 

“You seem to be distracted,” Luke speaks against her. She could see the sheen of her slick on his mouth, his lips and chin glistening. Some of the jealousy eases at the sight.

“I’m thinking about you.” She answers, slightly breathless. Her hips jerk, hoping for him to continue. “How good you’re making me feel.”

His ears redden further at the praise as he shyly smiles at her. God, he looked so pretty like this. Flushed and covered in her juices. The jealousy is long forgotten by now.

“You taste so good,” he groans against her. “Can I keep going?”

“Yes— fuck. Don’t stop.”

Rosa doesn’t get a word out after that — not when Luke pulled her right knee up, letting her hook it over his shoulder as his tongue flicks out, swirling and dipping, then sucking at her clit with an excruciating rhythm. His fingers joined, sliding easily between her folds, circling gently before breaching her entrance, slowly stretching her open. When he starts pumping them in and out, Rosa feels the pressure build — fast.

Rosa moans breathlessly, panting as the waves start to rise, building fast. She’s getting used to it, her thighs trembling, when he suddenly presses a spot within her, curling his fingers just right, and the waves are shattering.

“Luke— oh fuck. I’m gonna—” she doesn’t have the chance to cry out fully before she comes, feeling the waves of pleasure wash over her. He doesn’t let go, though he slows down his pace, letting her ride out her high.

Rosa barely registers the sound she makes when she comes –]— a high, garbled moan that she tries to tamp down, to avoid waking the others. She did not want to risk them hearing her. She didn't want to be disturbed right now.

When the heat finally passes, she whines, pulling away — feeling sensitive — before he pulls back, sitting on his haunches to watch her lay there, all wrecked and panting. He presses a soft kiss to her knee again and unhooks her leg from his shoulder.

He comes up to sit on the bed beside her, watching her dazed face with satisfaction and Rosa feels the sudden urge to hide — what with his intense eyes and shining mouth — her heart was fluttering in her chest.

“Holy shit,” is all Rosa says after a beat. She looks at Luke, impressed. “I think you just wiped out my brain.”

His shy smile returns at that, though there is a smugness radiating off of him at the praise. “I’m glad.”

She opens one eye, peeking at him. “I wanna return the favour, now.”

Before he can say something, she pushes herself up to a barely upright position, a sly grin on her lips. She reaches out to grab him by the waistband of his shorts, but her movement lacks the coordination — though the determination should more than make up for it — coming off more drunken than seductive.

Luke grabs her wrist before she gets too far, laughing at her frown. “I can tell you’re sleepy. You can barely keep your eyes open.”

“I can blow you in my sleep,” she protests weakly, choosing to reach forward and bury her face in his stomach instead.

Luke’s responding laughter is unbearably fond. “As tempting as that is, I’m not going to let you pass out with my dick in your mouth.”

Rosa pulls back and pouts. “Tomorrow, then?”

He plants a tender kiss on her forehead. “Sounds good. Now, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Rosa hums, sinking into his arms, not quite willing to let go. “I like you so much, Luke.”

He’s still for a beat, and if Rosa had been looking at his face, she would have seen the surprise flicker through his expression. He presses his cheek to the top of her head. “I like you too, Rosa. A lot. ” Then after another beat. “Let’s talk about this tomorrow. Now let’s get you cleaned up.”

He ignores all protests that slip from her lips, helping her lay properly on the bed before padding out to clean up and get a damp washcloth. By the time he returns, she’s asleep.

He cleans her up, as carefully as possible, before he slips her discarded shorts back on, adjusting the waistband so that it sits comfortably on her hips.

He tucks her in, pulling the sheets over after adjusting her pillow, the smile never leaving his lips. He kisses her on the cheek, one last time, before he leaves — but her hand catches on his wrist.

“Stay,” she murmurs, barely audible.

Luke hesitates, looking at the locked door. He knows the others were asleep downstairs. If they were to come looking for either of them…

Luke doesn’t care what they would think — he doubted they would care much, apart from the light disappointment. It was no secret that they all secretly liked Rosa — he wasn’t blind — and Luke could actually take this chance to show off that Rosa wanted him. Not them. But Luke.

But he also wanted to talk with her first, let them figure this out together — Rosa and Luke alone — before anyone else hears of it. He’s afraid — afraid that the confession had come at the heat of the moment, or because Rosa was feeling so good and confused the intensity of her feelings for him, if any at all — and he wants the confirmation before he would let hope build.

Not that he could do much now. He could already feel hope begin to rear its obnoxious head and it terrified him — that Rosa would regret it in the morning. That she would say it was an impulsive mistake. That she would want nothing to do with him.

But the damage had already been done.

He sighs a little, letting her convince him, once again. “Okay,” he breathes, brushing her hair away from her face. “Just for a bit.”

He sits at the edge of the bed, holding onto her hand as he watches her slowly slip into a slumber, face relaxed and peaceful.

Only then does he gently remove her fingers from his, easing off the bed quietly.

He unlocks the door, stepping out quietly, before he makes his way to the bathroom. His erection — once almost painful — had cooled more or less, and was only half hard. But the taste of her lingered in his mind, in his mouth, and he knew he would not be getting any sleep if he left this… situation, unhandled.

He slips into the bathroom, shucking off his clothes and turning the shower on at full blast, setting it to cold and stepping in, letting the water bite into his skin. Goosebumps raise along his skin, both from the sudden change in temperature as well as the images flashing through his mind. He stands still, letting the water wash over him.

It doesn’t help much.

He presses his forehead against the tile, and wraps a hand around himself, stroking slowly as he recalls her gasps and pants, the way Rosa’s eyes had squeezed shut, and how she had clenched around his fingers. The way she smelled. The way she tasted… The way she had looked at him — like she wanted him. Needed him.

It doesn’t take long for him to find his high. He calls her name softly as he comes, breathing hard.

Afterward, he stands there for a while longer, switching the water from cold to mixed, allowing the lukewarm water to wash over him, and wash away the tension in him.

Eventually, he shuts off the water, wrapping a towel around himself as he pads back into his room, pulling on a random shirt and sweatpants before he falls into the bed, tired.

Tomorrow, he thinks, staring up at the ceiling. There’s a hope steadily blooming in his chest, though a tingle of fear was mixed with it.

Whatever, for now, he could go to sleep with the mind that Rosa wanted him just as much as he wanted her. Come what may.

Tomorrow can come slowly.