All Through Our Lives

May 1995, part III (SMUT)

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[This part includes sexual content]

"And of course, this day is about love too."

People cheered. Jon turned to his wife completely, guests only able to see his back now. His voice resonated through the room: "I have so much to tell you I don't know where to start. It's like all my feelings want to come out at the same time, so nothing comes out at all. I'm always speechless in front of you."

You grabbed your glass and sipped, but nearly spat out everything when you felt brushing fingers on your thigh. It was shy at first, but seen you didn't react badly, Richie carried on and made his tips touch your skin.

"Every time I look at you, my heart drop in my chest, and I feel like I never see you enough."

The tips of his fingers were wandering on your skin, drawing soothing circles. It wasn't following a particular path, only caressing your skin. Nearly affectively. It made goosebumps rise on your skin, and heat your body in a way you didn't want to assume.

"I just want to wake up next to you every morning for the rest of my life."

He fanned his fingers out and slowly covered more and more of your skin, making more and more waves of shivers going up your spine. Not seeing Jon's face made his speech be so personal to each of you.

"I love you so much."

Richie's hand stopped moving and clawed slightly on your thigh, the tip of his fingers arriving on the inside of your thigh, making you shiver.

You looked around; Nikki was looking at Jon, surprisingly trapped in his speech. From the corner of your eye, you watched Richie. His elbow was on the table, chin on his palm, fingers on his mouth, looking at his bandmate.

It was too much for you; your brain was racing. Thankfully, it allowed you to get an idea pretty quick: your glass was still in your hand, and you tilted it towards you in a quick movement of your wrist.

You let out a "oops!" and moved your chair backwards. Richie's hand left you as he turned to you; such as Nikki. You quickly glanced around: no one else seemed to have noticed, still listening to Jon.

The bassist gasped, whispering to you: "Shit, are you okay?"

You lifted your head to him: "Yeah, well, better than my dress. I'm going to dry it at the toilet, at least a bit."

He nodded to you and you got up, not glancing at Richie.

The sound of your hurried steps made your heels clap on the tiles, making people get out of Jon's speech and look at you. You threw them sorry looks and pushed the doors to the hall.

The restrooms were right in front of you, on the other side of the corridor.

There were three doors: one leading to the women's, the second the men's and the third to the toilet for disabled people.

You opened the last one and eyed the larger room, looking for the hand dryer.

You noticed it next to the sink and went to it, gripping at the skirt to put the cloth below the blow.

You hadn't closed the door and heard it slam. You turned; Richie was standing in front of the door. You quickly glanced at him then looked back at the hand dryer that had just stopped. You lifted your hand to push on the button when he spat out: "Why did you leave without saying anything in Moscow?"

His words stopped you and now you turned your face to him. "Why did you leave in 1983?" That's when everything started, no? He shrugged. "That's what you wanted, no?" You raised your eyebrows. "Excuse me? What I wanted? It's not me who has been introduced as a professional of one-night stands to someone, okay?"