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dolly-on-the-dotted-line · 1 year

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They WILL. GIVE. IN... EVENTUALLY 😭 at this rate in approximately two chapters' time - there is a limit even to their stubbornness, it's time now 😂 I'm gearing up for the big stuff now and it's on its way once I get over The Fear but trust me... it's coming!!! Bug x Javi will out!!

Thank you for the love!!! 💖

Interlude: Solicitation

Solicitation: The act of asking for or trying to obtain something from someone.

Rating: 18+ (for consistency)

Warnings: Dazzling sincerity, Touches of Heartbreak, Reckless Erections.

A/N: So I leave for *checks watch* 8 months and there are now SO many of you 🥺 thank you to everyone who has found, loved, and shared this story, especially while I've been absent getting my new life together. It absolutely astounds me. I've had this little snippet in my back pocket for a while and now feel ready to post it as I start to get back into the swing of things. Think of it as a reparation for being gone for much longer than I intended and a placeholder while I pick up the threads of the story again. This interlude tells the story of the last NYE they spent together which Bug refers to after Stella's wedding and the 'agreement in Michigan' that Javi talks about. It's fun filling in the gaps and giving context to these moments that happen between the chapters. I love them.

Ann Arbor, New Year, Age 24: Solicitation

'The last time you had danced together must have been Christmas time, the final stint of your year ‘together’. It was new years eve, you think. Everyone had left the small get-together you’d thrown and instead of washing up glasses at 3am, you’d stood in the kitchen and swayed listlessly, bone-weary and half sober listening to Eric Carmen. You don’t think you can recall ever being as happy as you were at that moment. It was the end of the best year of your life.'

You fucking loved it here. Michigan was the one place in your life you couldn’t bear to leave.

You knew it was the new year making you dramatic, with another twelve months on the lease, at least, guaranteed. But you also knew it was often the things you wanted to hold on to the most that had the greatest tendency of slipping away. If you pretended you weren't looking, perhaps things would stay exactly where they were. Despite your best efforts, you knew the likelihood of that happening was slim to none.

Instead of ruminating, you pour yourself another drink and go back to the party.

“So what do you do, Javier?” was all you’d heard in your peripheral all evening.

You shouldn’t be surprised, you suppose. He was actually new here. This was the first time he’d been wheeled out for the benefit of your college friends, spruced up for the occasion, featuring all the bells and whistles.

You’d returned the favour of your own trip to Fairfax in second year, finally inviting him to see the most sacred part of your life- your home away from home. But for all the secrets you kept hidden here, Javi wasn’t one of them. Everyone was gagging to meet him, and from the way you’d spoken of him over the last four years, you couldn’t exactly blame them, either. Golden by name, golden by nature. They'd been eating him alive since 6pm.

“I’m DEA. Or, I will be, soon," comes his automatic reply. The humble addition at the end of the statement makes you smile for the tenth time tonight. 'He was going to be a big deal soon, he promised.'

“That’s cool!” replies Sylvia, echoing the similar sounds of pleasant surprise your other friends had all mustered in turn as the evening had gone on. They were right, it was cool. “Is that close to here, or home?”

You see the way he weighs it up in his head, clearly caught off guard by a question he didn’t have a rehearsed answer for. “Uh, neither, actually. Quantico, have you heard of it?”

Bless your friends and their small talk and their well-meaning nosiness. He'd been a broken record all evening, happily filling in the details, but that one had got him. Discussions of things like ‘how far’ and ‘how long' had been generally forbidden between the two of you for a long time. You blame the new year once again for the sudden uptick in temporal awareness.

Midnight comes and goes. People kiss, dance, laugh. Javi holds you close and nobody bats an eyelid. The early morning kicks in before anyone has the chance to realise. He's stolen away by another group of your friends, eager to make up for years worth of your hiding him away.

When he manages to excuse himself from the crowd no less than an hour later, he's immediately on a mission to seek you out. Clearly there was a limit to how many times he could run his spiel on demand. He finds you in the kitchen, collecting the glasses and trying to fit them in the basin.

He's on you in a second, grabbing you by the waist, curling you into his arms, and kissing your cheek sweetly.

"I haven't seen you for hours," he laments sarcastically.

“Well, I guess it’s you that no one knows this time.”

“I can see why you enjoyed it, it’s weirdly liberating. No expectations.”

“The expectations are only so high because you made them that way. You're also probably not helping by talking yourself up so much.”

He ignores you with a throwaway grunt and nuzzles into you further.

“You’re so… popular,” he muses, watching the way your hands pass over the glasses, “I've barely been able to say a word to you. It’s nice, everyone's really nice.”

“It’s been a very good time for me… living here. Despite not having you so close. I’ll be sad to see the back of it at the end of the year.”

You lean over the sink and attempt to start the washing up while people pace to and from the room, collecting their belongings, singing drunken goodbyes and blowing sloppy kisses. But when you try to turn to gather the rest of the dishes, Javi holds on to you incessantly.

“Don’t move,” he whispers in your ear.

“What?”

“Please, just… don’t move.”

He crowds up behind you closer, and you immediately feel the weight of his erection pressing against your backside.

“Are you hard?” you snort quizically.

“Devastatingly. Now please just do me a favour and don’t move.”

You laugh quietly for his own discretion, both at his candid begging and his flagrant arousal.

“What is that about?”

“I just can’t stop looking at you. Been looking at you from across the room all night. Now can you stop doing the damn dishes and just kiss me, please?”

You take one small look over his shoulder to see if the room is clear, but in reality, you couldn't care less if anyone saw you. This was your apartment, these people were your friends, and you were quite sure everyone had either left or passed out anyway. Turning to face him, you let him gather you up eagerly, press your back against the counter, and kiss you.

“You know, people are going to catch on eventually if we continue surreptitiously not seeing other people. Especially when you go away. They can spin a rumour about me being gay, but I’m not so sure you’ll get away with that one.”

“Do you want them to?" he murmurs as he kisses tenderly along your jaw. "Catch on, I mean.”

“I’m not sure. Maybe. I never expected things to be like this, let alone for so long. I’ve had plenty of difficult thoughts about this whole thing but that was never one of them. Like I said, my life here is… different.”

“Difficult thoughts?” he queries, catching on to that phrase in a heartbeat, his kisses faltering quickly.

“Yeah. A few.”

“About me?”

“Yeah,” you squeak, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion.

He looks at you, brows raised but not accusatory, waiting for your explanation. When he sees your lip quiver, his own pops out in a disheartened pout. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing. I’m just, happy.”

“It doesn’t look like you’re happy,” he panders, digging his fingers into your waist tighter to hold you more firmly, as if you’ll slip away given the chance.

“I’m sad because I’m happy. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

“But why does that make you sad?” he chuckles, confusion plain on his shining face.

“Because I never expected to be this happy, ever. And now I am. And now I know what it will feel like to not be this happy maybe ever again.”

You stare at him lovingly, silent tears falling from your eyes.

“You’re leaving,” you say simply, sadly, “and I don’t think you realise just how far gone you’re going to be.” You feel your eyes glass over even more, your sinuses heavy as you bite your lip to detract from the sensation. “Javi, I-”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to say it. I know. Just tell me what you want from me, and I’ll try my best.”

You take a deep breath and make a choice, one you’ve known has been coming for a while now. But the preparation doesn't make it hurt any less.

“I just want you to do what’s right for you. And I’ll do the same. And if those things happen to meet in the middle eventually, like they have done until now, then maybe I’ll get to be this happy again. And if not, then at least I’ll be glad that you’ve kept your promise.”

He understands where you're going with this immediately. He knows you’ll have had a plan, marked out your borders the moment he’d signed his new contract. You needed to know where this was going or where it wasn’t. You needed to minimise the damage wherever possible.

“You wouldn’t ask me to stay?”

“Never.”

“Why?”

“Because you might say yes. And I could never be the thing to keep you somewhere. Not if it wasn't where you wanted to be.”

He laughs again at your frankness, your ability to surmise exactly the problem at hand, so entirely unique to the two of you. But the look in his eye is sad now, struggling to chase off the disappointment at hand.

“I want you to promise that we’ll never be the thing that holds the other one back,” you continue, showing your brave face as you look him right in the eye, despite the fact it feels as though you’re being stabbed. “That’s what I want from you. This will be… whatever it will be, and that’s fine. But everything’s changing, for real. I can just feel it. And even though I’m sad about it, I won’t let it stop you. And you just promise me that when it’s my turn, you’ll do the same.”

“So what, we’re both just too stubborn to do the right thing?”

“Because we’re stubborn we’re doing the right thing. There’s a reason this was never going to be simple. We know each other too well. We both want more than we can have.”

“And what if it does work out? Eventually?” he asks tentatively, raising an eyebrow ever so slowly.

“Then you just let me know. And I’ll be there. I’ll be there in a heartbeat. Just don’t expect it to be soon. We both have a lot to prove in the meantime.”

He collapses into you with a huff, unable to query a word, and grateful that he didn't have to be the one to say it. It's all there in the way that he holds you; the gentle rub of his thumb against your ribs, the press of his nose against your shoulder, the way his foot rests plainly against yours.

"When accounting for the line at infinity, even parallel lines intersect eventually. Or so they say."

"They don't teach projective geometry in school for a reason," he quips, pinching at your side teasingly. “I’m so lucky to have had you like this. This year and the one before it. I’m lucky to have had you like this at all.”

“It’s been a very good year,” you sigh, falling into him with equal enthusiasm. “Now make love to me in this kitchen and we’ll hope and pray that the next one is even half as good.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he growls tenderly, and gets down on his knees.

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#loveliness #big love #rouge my love

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dolly-on-the-dotted-line · 1 year

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Me too!! 🥺 I am doing much better now thank you sweet!! I hope you are too - so excited to see what you've been up to!!! 💖