Sometimes he wonders who he really is. A large part of his job consists of travelling and he's always loved it, he moved half-way across the world at one point and decided to stay, stay so he would be able to do this for a living. He's the same person in LA as he is when he visits his family in Sydney and yet, the time zones and the flying alters something every time. Maybe he's a slightly altered version of himself in every city. Maybe neither one of those versions of him are truly him, maybe he's all of them. Maybe he is not a fixed person; maybe the things he's found himself doing with her lately aren't something the LA version of himself would do but then maybe he would. As much as he prides himself on his professionalism, LA plays by different rules. He's always been good at blending in.
He watches her do soundcheck from the floor. She's standing in the middle of the stage and she's wearing a t-shirt with an obscure band he's never heard of, it's kind of a gross t-shirt, a monster-looking heavy metal image. Her hair is tucked back but strands fall down her laughing face as she goofs around singing in weird accents into the microphone. He's always watching and it's impossible for him to not become attached to what he sees. He loves this side of her, those little moments of joy amongst all the misery, they're so welcome, they're needed. She's kind of adorable when she's in a good mood. Through the good and the bad, and there is no doubt that there's a lot of bad, she remains captivating and beautiful, blood stained white sleeves and a quiver to her bottom lip, a lip he honestly never thought about kissing until three nights ago when he found himself in her room. His need to take care of her runs deeper than it should, he's aware of this, he's working on it.
"Max." She says into her mic and it startles him. She grins at him, approaching the edge of the stage and he looks around to see that everyone is leaving, there are just a few people carrying things around, people who work at the venue and not with them. She sits with her bare legs dangling off the edge and looks at him expectantly, poking at his chest.
"What planet are you currently visiting?" She asks teasingly. He doesn't usually zone out but then, he doesn't usually get involved with clients either. Things are feeling different lately and the edges get kind of blurry when she's close. She smells like nature after rain, flowers and a sea breeze. Sweet and intoxicating. She reaches for his hand and he's vaguely aware that anybody could be picking up on what they're saying through the mic she's placed next to her.
"Just mentally preparing for tonight." He says, leaving out the part about hoping he'll end up in her room again at the end of it. The whole thing is so inappropriate and confusing and he can't explain what has gotten into him, all he knows is that he wants to be close to her, he wants to relieve everything in her that needs it, understand the parts of her she has yet to let him in on. He intertwines their fingers hidden between their bodies and he lets her when she urges him closer, urges him to stand between her legs. She is so compelling, his head starts to spin and he is overly attentive of every inch of them that's touching, her bare inner thighs against his jean-covered hips. One hand on his chest. He is equally attentive of the fact that they're in a place where other people could walk in, a place that has cameras and it's reminding him of all the reasons he already knows why he shouldn't be close to her like this in the first place.
"Demetria." He warns but it's more of an exhale. It's one thing when she isn't feeling well, he's been able to rationalize that, justify it to himself as looking out for her, helping her relax, helping. That night helped him relax, too. It's one thing when they're both feeling weak and tired and it makes sense to lean on each other. This is a public place. This is them on a good day, a day that should be like any other for them. Why do they naturally gravitate to each other like this suddenly? Why is it so easy, god it's so fucking easy, to lean in and kiss her? Just a little, just to give her a taste. It's only their second kiss and she moans into his mouth as if he's depriving her of something, as if she is on her last breath. It feels as if his brain is throwing a thousand exclamation points in the air and his body does the same thing but for opposite reasons, needing opposite things. He doesn't know how one night of easing a deep loneliness got him here.
"What if I wanted you right here?" Her breath vibrates against his neck and he can feel her lips on his skin, soft and searching, moving up to his cheek, hesitating. She's afraid he's going to say no and she would be right. She can't feel what's happening inside him, the panic response that's building to a choice that should be simple but isn't.
"That would be out of the question." He answers as if it's a security question because it is, his own feelings don't get to have a say in situations like this, even if they are more present, more insistent than usual. The amount of blood left in his head is limited right now but this is the kind of thing he won't be able to excuse once he can think clearly again. It goes against everything he knows.
"Nobody's here." Her voice is low and her hands on him are persistent, increasing in urgency, going lower. "You could go check the footage after."
He looks around and she's right, it's empty, all the doors are now closed. There are still hours left until they'll be getting ready for the show, until people have a reason to be back. Checking footage would be unusual but he could do it. Even if he can't, it wouldn't be the worst thing he's had to keep from coming out. It's insane, it's absolutely insane.
"What the fuck are you doing to me?" It's hardly a question, it's a plea for her to keep going and she smirks, clearly happy with her persuasion and he shakes his head at her, he can't imagine doing anything like this with anybody else, he can't imagine anybody else ever being able to convince him to do something this irresponsible.
He closes his eyes momentarily, allowing himself a second to get lost in the way her hand feels on him, the way her proximity softens everything, his muscles feel soft, his mind lazy. It's easy, it's obvious. He pushes her skirt up, reaching for her underwear and she lifts herself a little so he can pull it down her legs and she looks at him with anticipation he's never seen, she is so ready for him, so willing to share this experience and he almost can't believe it's real.
"We have to be quick." He instructs her in a way he knows he wouldn't have, had he not worked for her. His work responsibilities are very much present for this. "We have to be quiet."
She nods fervently, her hips already moving against him and he pushes her towards him by her lower back as he enters her. He has never imagined what it would feel like, he's never thought of her like that, maybe he hasn't allowed himself to but it's better than he could have made up in his mind, it overpowers his senses entirely when she whimpers into his ear, sweet, quiet, urgent moans as he moves in and out of her with rapid speed. He isn't sure if she's saying his name on purpose, it's so low and so discordant but he never wants her to stop. She holds onto his shoulders to balance herself and buries her face in his neck to muffle the sounds she can't keep down. But then she pulls back and looks at him, locks his eyes with hers as her breaths become hitched, shallow and she tenses up entirely around him when she comes. It's so intense and overwhelming that it is exactly what he needs to get there himself.
It takes him a second to take in his surroundings, for his heart to slow down to normal speed and his brain to adjust and when it does, he feels beside himself. A door opens behind them and he jumps but whoever it is leaves again without acknowledging them.
"Fucking hell." He exclaims and she laughs at him, the kind of laugh that reminds him to relax. He looks back at her and she is half-lying down, leaning on her elbows and her smile is wide and contagious, high on endorphins. He doesn't know what he is supposed to feel, in this moment all he feels is her.
