𝙖𝙚𝙞𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙮 // 𝙛𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙨 𝙭 𝙙𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙨

𝘾𝙇𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙎𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙀

/klanˈdestən/ or /ˈklandesˌtīn/
kept secret or done secretively, especially because illicit.

- - -

Five blinks out of the cab a few blocks from Gimble Brothers. He doesn't have any money and he never told the cabbie where he was going, so he's really doing the man a favor. He doesn't know why he didn't just blink to the store. It would've been easier. But, he supposes, the sunset makes the sky look pretty and he only has so much longer to appreciate the beauty in these things. He knows that he can always go back to the Commission, but the thought of abandoning his siblings makes his stomach churn. So he won't be doing that. Not anytime soon, anyway.

He sticks his hands in his pockets as he walks, watching a young couple on the opposite sidewalk for a while before he looks away. It always makes him strangely sad to see people out and about with their loved ones. He and Dolores have never had that freedom. It's entirely of their own choice and he doesn't regret it for a second. If something happened to her—if she ever got hurt or, God forbid, if she died—he'd never be able to live with himself. So it's better that they remain a secret. For now, at least.

He stops at the door of the store, fixing his jacket and making sure he looks presentable before he blinks inside. None of the Academy uniforms would fit him, so he went out and bought a suit. He likes it. He liked the navy blue one that all Commission agents wore, but he likes this black one better. It just looks better.

He grabs a flashlight from a rack and clicks it on, shining it around the store. He doesn't see Dolores, but that probably means she's in some secluded corner where they won't be bothered. Then again, they're in a department store at night. They won't be bothered anywhere. Five sets off into the store, shining the flashlight around as he walks. It must be clearance season, there are markdown stickers everywhere. He'll have to buy something for Dolores before he leaves; their anniversary is coming up. She's been eyeing a pair of red sequin-y heels for a while, he knows, and he's never been one to deny Dolores what she wants.

He finally spots her standing in front of a display of mannequins, staring up at the one in front. He slides his arms around her waist and rests his chin on her shoulder. He's missed her. He saw her two days ago, yes, but they weren't alone. That's what he missed. The aloneness, the intimacy of it all.

"I'm still annoyed with you," Dolores says. She leans back against him anyway.

Five smiles. "Yes, I can tell." He kisses the junction of her neck and shoulder softly.

"I am. I think you're being incredibly stubborn about this whole thing," she continues.

Five hums softly. "Am I?" He's only half-listening to her; he's too preoccupied with kissing her jaw to give her his full attention.

"Yes, you are. And I—Five, stop that."

He kisses her jaw again instead of answering.

Dolores sighs. "Five, my love, I'm trying to have a conversation with you. And you're making it incredibly difficult to concentrate."

"Oh, good."

She turns in his arms to face him. One of her eyebrows is raised, but there's a smile tugging at her mouth. "Why are you like this?"

He blinks, affronted. "Do I need an excuse to kiss you?"

"No, of course not. I'm just...I saw you two days ago, surely you haven't missed me that much?"

"And if I have?" He kisses the tip of her nose, grinning when she scrunches it.

"Well then I'm flattered. And a little concerned, but that can—"she breaks off with a quiet gasp.

Five stops, his mouth hovering over her jaw. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No," Dolores says. She sounds breathless. "No. Do that again."

He nips at her jaw again and she makes a strangled sound in the back of her throat. "God, Five."

She winds her fingers through his hair and kisses him, hard.

They stay like that for a while, kissing each other like they're starved for it. And maybe they are. They haven't been alone—truly alone—in a long time. The Commission had eyes everywhere, and they've only had that one meeting at Griddy's since he came to 2019. That was a simple business meeting, as much as Five hates to call it that.

He tightens his grip on Dolores' waist and pulls her closer, effectively banishing every thought that's not her from his head. God, he could stay here forever. He kisses her jaw again, peppering kisses all along the line of her jaw and down the hollow of her throat as he tries to put everything he can't say aloud into the kisses he's pressing into her skin.

I need you. Her neck.

I want you. Her jawline.

I love you. Her mouth. He's told her he loves her many times, but he knows that sometimes it's better to not use words.

I don't know what I'd do without you. Her shoulder.

You're the only thing that keeps me sane. Her collarbone.

I'd burn down the world to keep you safe. Her throat.

There are so many more things that Five wants to say, so many more things that he wants to kiss into her skin. But he thinks Dolores understands, because her hands tighten in his hair and she presses herself closer to him, murmuring his name in between snippets of Italian that he can't quite catch.

Somewhere, something falls off a shelf. Five ignores it, sliding his hand up Dolores' skirt to rub circles against her thigh with his thumb. She gasps, dropping her head back and Five takes the opportunity to kiss her neck again.

"God, Five," she breathes. He grins against her neck, sliding his hand higher up her thigh. She gasps his name again and her hips shift against his. A groan falls from his mouth, unbidden.

If they continue at this rate, they're going to need a bed. Dolores' hips are moving faster now and he doesn't know how much self control he has left. Not very much, as it turns out. He slides his hand higher, playing with the line of Dolores' underwear.

She presses herself up into his hand, groaning. "Five," she gasps. "Five, please."

Of course, that's when Hazel and Cha-Cha show up and try to kill him.

They really need to work on their timing.