Knockout (Sequel to Dark)

Chapter 10 (Part Two A)

“I’ve missed you.”

It’ll be a miracle if both they’re lips aren’t bruised with the pounce Harry proceeds with in making first contact. Bo gives an undignified screech. The stumble they both take knocks her into the kitchen table where her effort to steady them ends with take-away menus and junk mail showering the floor. 

Bo can’t remember the last time she felt like this, so ready to be swept up and away to somewhere she only has memories of. Harry’s hands have never been this quick and so sure before. He’s allowed to touch her now and he’s making up for all the little lost connections. All the times he wished she was there to just watch the telly with him; her feet wedged under his thigh to keep warm. The casual hand and hip grazes of two people comfortable with existing together. He’s making up for all the dinners he ate alone, absent of her telling him about her day and knocking ankles with him under the table. He just wants to feel her again.

And Bo feels like she’s being absorbed, pressed so close to Harry’s body that she could tap out the drumming of his pulse upon his back. But she won’t because those fingers are fisted in his t-shirt as he lifts her from the floor. 

Now at eye level, they calm for a second, both panting as Bo skims Harry’s jaw affectionately with her nose. 

“Do you wanna…” 

There’s hope in the mumbled, unfinished question, but Bo knows what he’s leaning towards.

“Yeah, yes please,” she responds, followed with a sharp, “shut it,” as Harry begins to laugh. 

Bo’s polite acceptance is smothered with how dirty the kiss feels. Practically rubbing against him and it’s still not enough. With how tightly Bo wraps her legs around his waist, there’s really no need for Harry to hold her up under her arse, but he does anyway, fervently. All the while her fingers tangle in his hair as he walks them a little haphazardly down the hall.

Bo’s thighs give an involuntary clench around Harry’s middle as her back meets the wall. She  arches into him and the groan he responds with rumbles through to her chest. Running high on adrenaline, Bo grabs a little too enthusiastically, collecting up as much of him as her arms can reach around.

 

“Can I take you to bed?” Harry hushes quietly with his forehead pressed to hers. 

Both Harry and Bo are breathing a little faster, hearts swelling a little harder at the requited longing blooming between them. 

“Yes please.”

They share a shy smile before Bo tries to nip at his ear in an effort to break eye contact. Because Bo’s afraid if she allowed him to look so adoringly for any longer, she would have demanded him right there in the hallway. Harry makes solid headway further into a part of the flat unexplored, all the while Bo noses into his neck. 

Harry’s an exciting mix of old and new. The way his fingers slip between hers like they used to, his hand roughened with new calluses. Tattoos that Bo is yet to be introduced to, on familiar heated skin that her fingers and lips are becoming reacquainted with.

She hooks the neck of his t-shirt, prying it away just a little to curiously peer at all the ink he’s keeping covered. There’s new freckles sprinkled like stars over his sunned shoulders, and all she wants is to connect them into kissed constellations.

“Hey, no peeking,” he teases her with a squeeze.

Her t-shirt rucks as Bo slides down Harry until her feet hit the floor. There’s little time for suggestive looks though with Harry shouldering his way through a door that she presumes is his room. He grabs for her hand and she’s laughing as her feet stumble through the doorway after him.