Hallelujah

Epiphany

Smut ahead. Lots of smut. Big Fat Smut. Be warned. Playlist is mostly implied: Hallelujah - Jeff Buckley (Although the Rufus Wainwright version works beautifully as well); Take Me to Church - Hozier; Whore - In This Moment; Voices of Light: Noster - Richard Einhorn; Canon in D Major - Pachelbel.

Epiphany

Pepper had annoyed her. There'd been some answers, yes, but not what she truly wanted. Jude was ever a pragmatic woman of solids and immediacy; she found it difficult to decipher vagaries delivered as equations. It just meant more mysteries to solve.

But sex. That was a solid. Familiar territory - if it had been a while. She chuffed a rueful laugh as she walked down the hall, checking for shadows and finding none. "Completion." Whatever the hell that meant.

Not that completion didn't sound...simply phenomenal. She'd always been a sucker for a good, proper orgasm, rare as they were. But when she thought of the pull between them, that agonizingly delicious deep desire that seemed so shared... She admitted to herself that putting a rush on things wasn't terribly bothersome.

She knocked at his chamber door, but he didn't answer. His light burned underneath, so she simply entered. She heard noises in the adjoining bathroom. Water. He was showering.

Timothy had changed things...just a bit. There was a bookcase now. She scanned it. Classics. Milton. Dante. Chaucer. Poetry. Interesting...His bed was a little bigger, with a fluffier pillow and a dark duvet. A rather ornate couch with taut brocade. Sconces. It was much dimmer with just the candles lit. "Dracula's castle," she murmured.

Turning to the bed, she tisked. That would never do. Blinked. Better. Ignoring anticipation, ignoring the tight demand between her legs, she stripped briskly and climbed into the grand four-poster, gathering white sheet over her bare chest and waiting in the lush bedding. She heard the shower turn off and bit her lip.

He was whistling when the bathroom door opened, a towel cinched around his hips, another one vigorously drying his hair. He froze when he saw the bed - when he saw her. She swallowed. Flickering candlelight reflected off the stray water droplets on his chest. She could practically taste them.

"Jude."

"Timothy."

His eyes screamed fight or flight. "You're..."

"Indecent?" She asked.

"That's not what I was going to say."

She shrugged. "Come to bed?"

"With you."

"Unless you intend ta kick me out."

"No, no, no!" He practically lurched toward her. "I just...didn't expect..."

"There's some urgency."

"Urgency?"

"Yeah. Far me." He was close enough for her to reach him. One hand holding her modesty sheet, she reached for his towel and tugged. Her brows rose. "And far you, it seems."

"Jude."

She scooted over in the bed. "That's my name."

Awkwardly, slightly frightened, he climbed into the bed beside her. "I'm a bit wet," he apologized.

"Me, too." She did not apologize.

"Ah." He colored charmingly, settling into pillows. "Um...will you be...sleeping...here this evening?"