more_magic | hey, it is a job, it pays a lot; is it disservicing someone?

That he waits until the end of the week isn't delaying or reluctance--or, frankly, a resistance to the absurdity of taking romantic advice from a high schooler--merely a desire, after having done so much wrong, to finally get one thing right. He knows he's behaved abominably, said things that he never thought himself capable of, and even after Caleb's assurances, Darlington's not sure forgiveness is a thing that Alex will be able to find where he's concerned.

He holds onto the hope of it, along with his memories of that first week he'd spent in Darrow; their easy intimacy, growing close in a way that they'd only begun to manage back in New Haven, and the surprising and utterly wanted course their night had taken up at Kagura. Thinks, too, of the certainty in Caleb's voice as he'd said You make her feel the butterflies. He wants, more than anything, not to be wrong about this.

He'd agreed to work this month's Final Friday evening program at the museum, and by the time he's finished helping the other front-of-house staff clean up and pack everything away, it's already past ten. If Alex is working tonight, it's more than likely that she's gone already, but after a brief stop at his own apartment, Darlington's on his way to the Bramford. He knocks on her door, using his key when there's no answer, finding the apartment empty and dark.

There's a moment where he thinks about waiting, about being there once more when she gets home just like he had been the night he'd come to work on the wards. It is, he knows, some kind of a coward's choice; the easy way out of a situation that he should have been strong enough to face up to well before now. Breathing out a long sigh, he leaves the bag he'd brought by the side of her couch and heads back into the cold, hailing a cab and giving the driver an address that gains him a winking look in the rearview mirror that he tries to ignore.

Only a week ago, he'd sworn he'd never go back, that there was no place for him here even if Alex was hellbent on making it hers. Even now, he'd rather be anywhere else. But there's no other place Darlington knows he should be tonight if he's going to make some attempt at fixing even a fraction of what he alone had broken.

They pull up outside the club on Paper, and after paying the driver and going through the ritual of cover and ID with the bouncer at the door, Darlington goes inside. The music is just as loud and grinding as before, the crowds around the stage just as vulgar, the drinks from the bar just as watered down; once again, it fills him with displeasure and unease and has him glancing towards the exit. He stays instead, choosing a table that's neither fully lit by the stage nor completely hidden in the shadows and setting down his drink.

This may only break things further between them, bring about an assumption or an argument that will sever the thin threads that still remain of their tie to one another. Darlington can only hope, with the kind of surrendering faith that he's reserved for few other things in his life--and once before for Alex, on a Halloween that turned into nothing he could have anticipated--that it'll be something altogether different.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

takecourage

"Oh?" asks Alex, who hasn't been bought a lot of things in her life, and has a childish glee attached to getting gifts that she doesn't think she'll ever really be able to shake. "Something to look forward to, then." Once they're settled into the cab, she slides closer to him, her shoulder pressed against his, their fingers still threaded together.

From:

more_magic

"I'd like to make clear that it wasn't entirely at the behest of that loyal defender of yours," Darlington says, laughing at the memory of the kid charging up to him in the museum courtyard. "Caleb. Though he did give me the idea."

Alex presses close, her hand finding his again, and he looks down, watching as the passing streetlights cast her features in light and shadow. "Alex," he says quietly, and when she tilts her face up he leans in to kiss her, the brush of his lips light and hesitant.

From:

takecourage

"I didn't send him," she protests, but she's grinning when she says it. "But I'm glad he found you." She might have been about to say more, but then he says her name like it's something important and kisses her like something from a movie and she forgets every word she's ever said.

From:

more_magic

She sighs a little against his mouth, or maybe he does against hers, but either way it's a kind of permission. Darlington deepens the kiss, just slightly, aware of the fact that they're still more or less in public here in the back of the cab.

"I should have done that much sooner," he says when they break apart again.

From:

takecourage

Right then, she'd be pretty willing to just fuck him in the back seat of that taxi, driver or not, but that definitely doesn't feel like something Darrow Alex would do.

"We've got time to make it for it," she says.

From:

more_magic

"We do," he says, and knowing what she's told him about what's to come back home, about his departure, it feels a bit like a prayer. He doesn't think about it more than that, just kisses her again.

The taxi stops outside Alex's building and Darlington pays the driver, then follows Alex out the door and onto the curb. They go, hand in hand, through the lobby and into the elevator, then down the hall to her front door. As they step inside, Darlington feels just the faintest flutter of nerves, buried somewhere beneath the deeper pull of his happiness.

The bag he'd left earlier in the evening is still by the side of the couch, the folded moss-green cashmere blanket inside just peeking over the top.

From:

takecourage

When Alex sees the bag she actually starts laughing, shifting so that she can lean back against him for a moment.

"Did Caleb tell you to buy me a fucking blanket?"

From:

more_magic

She leans against him and his arm goes around her waist, fingers splayed gently at her hip. "One that's as soft as the scarf I gave you, to be specific," he says, laughing along with her. "Though I'd like to think I did a little better than that."

From:

takecourage

Right then, she doesn't care how soft the blanket is, just loves that he bought it for her. She turns in his arms, curling her own around his neck and leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss him.

"So if you're my boyfriend," she murmurs. "Does that mean that I can give you a lapdance now?"

From:

more_magic

Darlington holds her lightly, letting her press herself against him and pull him down for that kiss, her arms secure around his neck. At the question, he can feel a not-unpleasant flicker of heat start up at the base of his stomach.

"Do you want to?" he asks, his eyes meeting hers. "I'm not expecting it, but I'd be lying if I said I was averse to the idea."

From:

takecourage

"I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it," she says. "Not that I think those kind of things about you. Obviously."

From:

more_magic

He doesn't say anything to that--rather hasty--denial of her own thoughts, just raises one dark eyebrow. "And if I told you I'd never had a lapdance before, Stern?"

From:

takecourage

"I would totally not be surprised," she says, nudging him towards the sofa. "And I would be totally happy to take your virginity."

From:

more_magic

"Cutting right to the point as always," he says, deadpan and dry for a moment before he smiles again. "Lead on."

It's almost a reverse of their dance on New Year's. Her arms still twined around his neck, Alex pulls him further into the apartment, and all he can do--all he wants to do--is follow her. They reach the sofa, and once she lets go of him, he sits, head tilting up easily to look at her.

From:

takecourage

"Did someone tell you the rules at the club?" She asks, starting to strip out of her boots, jeans and hoodie. "Or do I need to start with those?"

From:

more_magic

"I got the general rundown," he says, biting his lip as he watches her peel off those outer layers, revealing the corset and a pair of tiny shorts. "No touching. For me, not for you. Tip generously. And that strippers can smell fear, though I think that was more of a warning than an actual rule."

The flush returns to the line of his cheekbones, and he shifts slightly on the couch. "Anything else?"

From:

takecourage

In this light she can see him blushing and it's beautiful. She selects a track on her phone and sets it down on the table, her hips already starting to move.

"What did you think of me tonight?" She asks, her hands over her head, fingers in her straight hair.

From:

more_magic

He watches her start to dance, the smooth roll of her hips and the push of her hands in her hair; once again, his stomach flips, not unpleasantly. "You were surprisingly forceful, Stern."

From:

takecourage

"That isn't what I asked you, Danny," she says, her hands skimming down to graze over the curve of her tits under the corset. "And you know it "

From:

more_magic

"Wasn't it?" he says, eyes still tracking the path of her hands, the way her fingertips run along the fabric of the corset, mapping each curve. The sight is almost electric, adding to the coiling tension within him. He pauses, and tries again.

"It wasn't the kind of performance I'd assumed it might be."

From:

takecourage

"That still isn't what you thought...but it's a start," she says, turning her back on him and then bending from the waist. She's well aware of how good her ass looks in these shorts.

"Why not?"

From:

more_magic

She turns and bends, and gentleman though he is, Darlington's eyes still linger on the snug curve of her ass in those shorts. Idly and unthinkingly, he settles a little more on the couch.

When she asks, there's a moment where the thinks about--not lying, precisely, but a softening of the truth. Some elision to smooth the way after a month's worth of harshness. But if he's committing to this, and he is, Darlington knows he owes her more than that. "I'd thought there was only the illusion of control in anything you might do," he says. "The impression of a choice, but an understanding that there were...obligations to your audience, maybe. That's what concerned me." He lets out a breath, watching her as she dances, the low beat of the music filling the room. "But it didn't seem that way at all tonight."

From:

takecourage

She shifts so that she can look back at him, her hands tracing up the backs of her bare thighs, her hair tumbled to one side of her face.

"It's all a choice, Danny," she says, softly. She straightens up and, like she had in the club, moves to straddle his lap, a leg bent against the couch cushions on either side of his thighs. She tousles her fingers into his hair and, this time, she does lean in to kiss him. "Ask me how it makes me feel."

From:

more_magic

Still bent over, Alex turns like that, looking at him with something inscrutable in her dark eyes, and Darlington wonders if he should have opted for that softer version of his opinions after all. But then she speaks, low and quiet and with a weight to her words, and something about it feels like another step towards rebuilding. "So I'm coming to realize, Alex," he says, equally quiet.

She moves into his lap, her legs bracketing his thighs, and when her fingers push into his hair he doesn't fight the way he moves with the contact. When she kisses him, slow and heated, he has to work hard not to lift a hand to touch her. The effort of it makes his head spin, tightening that coil of tension in his gut a little bit more.

"How does it make you feel, then?"

From:

takecourage

"Powerful," she says, her fingers still pressed into his hair, her hips moving in a way that's not really about dancing, in that moment. "Sex never made me feel powerful before. It always made me feel dirty and small and weak. But when I'm dancing? When I've got men eating out of the palm of my hand?" She grins. "It feels really fucking good."