bakerstreet | Our tiniest steps

Our tiniest steps

little steps

No matter how much they care for the other person and want to be with them, some people simply can't dive head first into relationships. Little things that form intimacy and romance, little acts we take for granted - being close, holding hands, kissing, showing affection in public - they won't or can't do...at least not right off the bat. Something in their past, their experiences, their trauma, or even their personality holds them back. For both them and the person they're "dating," as it were, this can lead to a frustrating experience.

Still, steps can be taken towards letting the walls fall down. Little, tiny steps, but those can mean the world all the same.

The People
One With the help of a partner, one person warms up.
Two Both sides of this couple are learning how to be in a relationship and to be open.

The Actions
Talking → A relationship can't exist if there's not some communication, so either learn to use your words or become so close you can speak without them.
Spending Time → Even such mundane occurrences as watching TV or cooking together is new ground.
Touching → You might just find you enjoy reaching out and touching them.
Kissing → Another kind of touch, when you think about it.
Cuddling → ...at least they're warm and, hopefully, soft.
Sleeping → You're at your absolute weakest when you're asleep. It shows trust to doze off around this person.
Public Display → It's one thing to be in love in private, but showing you care in public is a different story.
Kind Words → Three little words (more or less) are all it takes. Why, then, are they so hard to get out?
Sex The ultimate stumbling block to some. To be laid blissfully bare is to truly let your guard down.

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As soon as her body shifts he acts, in the slip of his other hand underneath her body, wrapping up around her, fingertips tracing a line up the middle of her body until his palm is pressed against her chest, nestled between her breasts to hold her to him. The rest of his body seems to move of it's own accord, rocking into her with each of her undulations.

Being on the precipice of his own emotions isn't something he's familiar with. Their coming together, not just like this, naked and wanting and needy - but in the most simplest of terms is more than he'd ever allowed himself before. She's more to him than anyone that had come before her, and he's aware - in some of the small nuances of her behaviour and actions that this is just as important to her.

He needs her, for so much more than the sex.

Despite the heavy, deep breaths he manages to nuzzle into her hair, pressing kisses along the column of her neck, words almost forming before they die on his lips - it would break this reverie, and he's afraid of losing this.

The moment he slips inside her, she presses back, needing him so deep inside her. One hand curls in his hair, the other rests over the hand between her breasts, her whole body attuned to his. She hears him draw a breath as if to speak, hears him let that same breath go, exhaling his warmth into her hair.

Tell me a secret. She bites her lip, rocks with him, sweet fire pooling low in her belly, and a delicious slow burn that threatens to consume her entirely.

She whispers his name, half plea, half prayer, her hands gripping him tighter as he sinks deeper and deeper with every stroke.

It's so good. They've done this before, he's done this-- countless times before but admitting that this is different means admitting that this is special and he's still uncertain of his capabilities in the long-term. He settles for being completely washed away by her, by the moment, the way it feels like they're meant to be together. From the breathless whisper of his name, to the way her hands curl around him where he holds her.

Where his arm isn't pinned under her he moves - touching every inch of her body from knee to navel, sweeping across her stomach until his fingers catch between her legs again. His kisses stop, as if he can't manage both things at the same time any more, lips hovering behind her air as his focuses his efforts on the gentle press of two fingertips against the heat between her legs, well aware of where her clit is - as he purposely circles around it, thriving on the shift of her body on him.

The simplest touch and it wraps her up tight in a span of heartbeats. He plays her like a fine instrument, and the music they make resonates in the long muscles of her body, a fine tremor that betrays just how intense the sensations he's heaping on her are.

"Oh my god ohmygod oh -- holy fucking -- fuck"

She can barely draw enough breath to speak, and she's utterly unconscious of the words she's murmuring between the long keening sighs. He's breaking her down to her most elemental components. Breath. Touch. Sensation. Heat. Her hand gropes for his hip again, while the other pushes against the mattress, giving them an anchor to work against.

"Don't stop. Please, don't stop."

Perhaps it's good that she breaks the silence when she does. Her whisper of his name still fit within the remit of calm, smooth love making and this is something far more heavy duty. Her words are more than enough to have him chuckling, light and easy but no less breathless than Karen.

Dragging her higher against him gives him just enough space to turn just enough to press his knee against the bed, angling himself deeper inside her and if he weren't aware of how good the touch of his fingers against her was he'd have pulled that hand away to turn her completely into the bed. Like this, they lose the potentially shattering moment, but keep all of the intimacy.

She feels so good around him. He'd blame the length of time that he'd been without someone else in his bed, but it's her - dragging him toward the edge. The way she's been seducing him ever since they got back, he was helpless.

"Karen--"

Every press of his hips, every flicker of his fingertip, twists her tighter and tighter. Her head lolls back against his shoulder, and her eyes roll back in her head. She keeps rocking on him, working his length deep inside her, each press slow and deep, sending licks of heat up her spine and out of her mouth.

He feels the flutter around his cock, feels the echo of it in her body. She's slipping over the edge, losing herself to the storm. She clings to him like he's the only solid thing in her world.

"Yes."

It's a whisper of encouragement that she doesn't need. He knows, they've done this so often that he knows each and every sign that she's coming undone for him. His own eyes drop closed and his lips press against her neck as he keeps focused, reaping the benefits of his own touch through the tiny gestures of her body.

She's wet, hot, tight around him and he's undone before he can guarantee her release - not that he feels it matters, fingers alone he knows he can drag her over the edge, and as his hips snap tight as he keeps up his onslaught, a moan on his tongue, breathless.

She nods in answer. Her breath stills in her throat, hitches once, twice, and when he breaks, she follows, tumbling into free fall. He's with her, hot and slick and perfect, and her body grips his like a vice, hard pulses that seem to go on forever.

She feels that moan rumble through her chest and she whispers back to him,

"Yes, god yes."

He feels her topple over that edge and his fingers draw away, pressing instead against her abdomen, easing her back into him, holding her tight as he rides not only his orgasm but through the effects of hers.

It feels like forever when his body finally settles, and his hands move again, sweeping up and down her front whilst the other stays looped around her chest, holding her to him. The kisses start up soon after, lips against her shoulder, soft and careful. Yeah. This was good.

Breath ragged, still shimmering with aftershocks, she melts into him, each bit of her body giving up the tension in stages, until she's boneless in his embrace. One hand fumbles up to touch his hair, and when they part, she turns back to him, needing to taste his mouth again.

He welcomes her shift of her body, sweeping his arms free from around her until she's there in front of him again. His lips catch hers as quickly as is possible without inflicting injury - one hand sliding under her cheek, the other moving along her body, easing her in closer, dragging his fingertips light up the middle of her back until he can thread his fingers into her hair.

It's so different, even from the moments on vacation. There's a promise in each and every one of his kisses.

Eyes closed, she drinks in those kisses like a woman dying of thirst. Her hands curl around his head and she lifts one knee to drape her leg over his thigh, caressing up to his hip. This is amazing. And terrifying. When they were on the island, these are the moments when he would pull away, ask her if she wanted a drink, need to go do something that wasn't this intimate. Every moment he lingers, she clings a little tighter, until she can't stand it any longer.

She pulls back to look him in the eye, searching his face for some kind of warning sign. Something to prove her wrong and demonstrate that she really is a sucker for ever daring to play this dangerous game.

It's not until she pulls away that he feels that familiar trickle of fear along his spine, she's searching him - he knows, for something, anything that might suggest that he was going to pull the same old tricks from before.

Just when he thinks he's got his breath back his hands move again, pushing at her hips until she's on her back, following easily and catching her mouth in another kiss - knees pressed to the bed either side of her hips, barely hovering above her. He can feel each curve of her body under him, even as he leans back from the kiss - and takes another, far softer one.

Breathless, she returns that kiss with equal fire, and when he returns, equal tenderness. A giddy little laugh bubbles up from her chest, taking her by surprise. Her hands gently comb his hair back from his face. She's beaming again, her eyes wet.

Her voice is barely audible when she whispers against his lips. "Tell me a secret. Just a small one. Something no one else knows about you."

It's intimate in a way he seriously never expected. His eyes flutter slightly under her touch, one opening fully in response to that question. Again.

"Don't give up do you?" He notes, putting some more distance between them - it's uncomfortable, he's really not sure what he can give her.

She rises up, kisses him again, slow and sure, her hands caressing down to the nape of his neck again. Soothing touches.

"You want me to start?"

He's drawn in by her, low and close and slow - apparently. A soft grumble escapes him as she follows the kiss with words, turning his head enough to kiss the corner of her mouth, and another against her cheek, working a line toward her neck.

Letting her do this first is too much like easy work, but equally he's not going to give all of himself. There are things he never thinks about - secrets are one of them.

"I hate being handed things."

A low chuckle tickles the back of her throat, and she dips her head to nuzzle into his hair, breathing him in deep, like she could take him into her and never give him up again.

"Duly noted." Her voice keeps up the conspiratorial tone. "I don't really care for bagels."

Okay, so this is the game they're going to play. He recalls a time when they'd tried something similar on vacation - but he managed to avoid it.

This, he didn't want to avoid.

"Crossing bagels off the list of breakfast items." He offered, shifting back down against the bed, a hand smoothing along her side to ease her close to him.

"I hate cheap vodka." Cheating, but he doesn't care.

She follows him, not to lie against his side, but rolling to her hands and knees above him. Her long hair falls around her face, and she studies him, smiling but with a look of determination.

"Who doesn't. And that's not a secret. I bet that's already on a list of things your caterers have to know when they come to work for you." She dips down nuzzle under his jaw, soft lips find his pulse and planting a wet kiss there. When she withdraws, it's only enough to whisper against his skin. "I've spent the last five years eating bagels because it's what New Yorkers do. No one but you knows I don't like them."

His lips quirk into a knowing smile the moment that she mentions caterers. He wouldn't admit it to her, or the list of other food and drink related items he hates. If things like that aren't a secret though, he's going to have his list condensed quickly. He's very particular, about a lot of things - maybe not all of them though.

A soft hum escapes him as she presses her lips to his jaw, sucking in a breath to try and steady himself.

"I feel honoured." He has to look away from her to re-think, letting his hands slip up around her waist, settling against the small of her back and effectively pulling her flush against him. It means he can turns his head slightly to not look at her.

"Some nights I don't sleep... no need to worry about nightmares that way."

She sinks down to his chest, still intent it seems on covering every inch of his skin in soft kisses, working her way down his collarbone. He speaks and she stills, settling close against him.

She takes in a deep breath and lets it go, her head falling to his shoulder. She brushes another kiss against his skin, and draws in a breath, holding it for a long moment. When she speaks, her voice is quiet. Solemn.

"That's -- something we have in common."

There it is. Opening up to her had never been a part of the plan in Tahiti, and he'd imagined that she would only come to learn about his aversion to sleep schedules by experience alone. Confessing doesn't feel like a chore though, it's a weight off his shoulders, even after she admits her own, similar issues.

He definitely doesn't want to discuss the content of those dreams though. To have brought them up at all seems like enough.

"No one else knows about you."

She smiles, the tension flowing out of her in a breath. She's always found him easy to talk to, but this is something she never talks about, not with anyone. Having this with him? Her hand smooths down to rest over his heart. She wants this kind of connection. This kind of trust.

"Same here. Well, they didn't until about two hours ago." She slips to his side, head resting on his arm, her leg draped over his. "Is that gonna cause you problems?"

It's difficult not to read into her gestures, when so much of the things they have done already mean so much. He drops his gaze to where her hand rests, covering it with one of his own as she drops down beside him.

"Now the whole world knows." He whispers quietly to her, letting his fingers slip under her palm so he can lift her hand and press a kiss against the centre of it. "If I didn't want anyone to know, I wouldn't have come to pick you up like that."

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