randalsgrave - Tumblr blog

randalsgrave · 3 months

Text

Sweetness and Light: Part Eight

Five months later...

I've been through the ringer lately with school shit and back-to-back submarine deployments (someone please tell the Navy that I'd really like extended time with my husband; I'm tired of him being on the boat); needless to say, this has been on the backburner for a minute and it was high time I get this written for y'all's enjoyment. Thanks so much for your patience; I can't wait for you guys to read this. <3

Things start heating up for Bob and Katie.

BobxFemale!OC. F/C: Kacey Rohl

Word count: 7.2K

MAJOR WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY. SMUT. MINORS DNI.

MINOR WARNINGS: colorful language, not beta-read (we die like men)

***

Week 6, Monday. It’s been barely a minute since the morning portion of instruction finished, and Fanboy is already accosting Katie. Well, not accosting - more like sidling up alongside her with his arms folded and his eyes glimmering with… something. She wouldn’t necessarily call it ‘accusing’, but whatever it is, it comes pretty damn close to it.

“All right, spill - what happened this weekend?”

Boy, nothing gets by you, does it? “What do you mean ‘what happened this weekend’?”

“Oh girl, don’t even,” Fanboy retorts with a snort as they wander out into the hallway. “You and Bob have been staring and smiling at each other alllll morning, which leads me to believe that something happened between you guys. So, what happened?”

Despite Fanboy being rather annoyingly perceptive about her love life (damn him), Katie can only chuckle. “Really hell-bent on winning that five bucks, huh?”

“I mean, it’s an easy win for me; it’s obvious you two have something going on.”

“Either that, or you’re seeing things. Speaking of seeing things, what’s this I hear about you seeing a girl in Los Angeles? Halfpint said you were gone all weekend with someone-”

“Ah ah ah, we’re not talking about me; stop avoiding the question-”

“Oh my god - we went to the aquarium and looked at fish. Happy now?” In her defense, she is telling Fanboy the truth - she just fails to mention the kiss they shared in the kelp forest exhibit, the hours of conversation, and the secondary kiss she gave him after he walked her back to her room. It’s not like it’s important for him to know the details right now.

Fanboy knows she’s lying - or, at the very least, he looks at her like he knows she’s lying, complete with his hands on his hips and his eyes narrowed, just the tiniest bit. “You’re not telling me something. I dunno what it is yet, but I’ll figure it out - and you’re in trouble when I do.”

Katie heaves a sigh. “You’re really not gonna let this go, are you?”

Fanboy sounds almost affronted when he scoffs at her. “I’ve got five dollars on the line; of course I’m not letting it go.” He sets his garrison cap squarely on his head and lines it up with the bridge of his nose, then starts for the front door - only to double back and lean in towards Katie. “Her name’s Gianna, by the way.”

He’s already walking by the time Katie thinks to respond. “You better gimme details on her, Garcia!”

“Only when you gimme details on you and Bobber!” he yells as a final farewell, just as the front doors cut him off with a loud clang!

Katie can’t help but groan. Can’t he at least give her the courtesy of some privacy before divulging the details of her love life? Apparently not. Nosy-ass.

“Boy, Fanboy’s in fine form today, isn’t he?” Bob’s come up behind her, hand brushing her shoulder blade to let her know that he’s there.

She ignores the tingling she gets from his hand brushing against her and sighs. “You heard all that, huh?”

“Yeah… What was that all about?”

Katie blows a raspberry with her lips, shakes her head. “He’s being nosy about this past weekend. He’s got money riding on you and me getting together.”

“Wait…” Bob’s eyebrows furrow. “There’s a bet going?”

“Five dollars that you and I become a thing in a matter of weeks,” Katie explains. She doesn’t even try to hide the wince on her face. “In my defense, I didn’t do shit to encourage him. He made the bet all on his own.”

“Sounds like something he’d do,” Bob replies with a hum as he’s positioning his garrison cap.

They’re outside now, making their way towards Katie’s 4Runner. The sun’s hanging directly overhead, beaming down and hitting Bob’s hair in a way that turns it to gold in the light. For a second, it’s all Katie can focus on, all she wants to focus on. Christ, he’s handsome…

She coughs after a moment. She hates to end it so soon. “Yeah, well, his competitiveness is making him badger me for money. He’s pretty well convinced you and I are a sure thing.”

“Well, what do you think? Are we a sure thing?”

Katie’s breath stops mid-inhale. Oh boy. She should’ve known that it was going to come up; she just wasn’t expecting it to come up as soon as it did.

She forces the air out in a small exhale, purses her lips as they climb into the 4Runner. “I think…” Choose your words carefully Katie… “I think we only just realized we have feelings for each other,” she says slowly. “And… while we’re figuring out where we wanna go with those feelings, I think I want to take things slow with you.”

She’s half-expecting Bob to hang his head in disappointment, or to say something passive-aggressive in response - anything to suggest she’s in the wrong for trying to set boundaries and manage expectations. It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened to her.

To her surprise, though, Bob nods. “That’s more than fair. Certainly makes things a little less intimidating.”

When he says that, Katie’s not sure if he’s speaking for her, or for himself.

In any case, she hums in agreement as she starts the car up - then smirks. “If last weekend was any indicator, though, I’d say things are heading in a good direction.” She reaches over, slips a hand into Bob’s, squeezes softly as her eyes meet his. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Bob gives her a grin and his own squeeze of her hand as a reply. Wholeheartedly, it seems to say.

She smiles, cranks her music volume, and points them in the direction of downtown San Diego.

Likewise, Bob.

Likewise.

***

Tuesday morning is a timeframe like most others these days - early rise, quick rinse, fresh flight suit…

And coffee with Bob in his lodge room.

At 0730 he’s in his usual spot behind the kitchen bartop, hand-grinding coffee beans and keeping a casual eye on the kettle on the stove, watching for steam. Equally, Katie is in her usual spot too, elbow on the counter, propping up her head resting in her hand, eyes on Bob, lazy, sleepy half-smile on her face. She likes watching him make coffee for the both of them. It’s soothing, a balm for the unpleasantness of waking up early in the morning.

Beans sufficiently ground, Bob pops the cap on the grinder and dumps them into his French press. “This stuff smells phenomenal. Where did you get it from again?”

“Y’know James Coffee over on India Street?”

“Oh yeah, those guys. Been meaning to check ‘em out sometime. How’s their coffee?”

Katie nods. “It’s really good - kinda’ fruity. At least that’s what the guy who sold it to me said.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” Bob takes the kettle in one hand, wets the grounds with some water before giving them a stir. “You can smell the berries and chocolate in the beans.” He pours the rest of the water into the press, all the way to the top, then sets the plunger. “It’s gonna make a helluva cup of coffee, I can tell you that much.”

He splits the resulting liquid between two white mugs, and hands one off to Katie, who takes a single long sip and hums serenely. Warm, toasty, and chocolatey. Bob’s right - this is a damn good cup of coffee.

“Dude, can I just, like… Take you back to Virginia with me when this is all over? Have you make me coffee everyday or something? Like goddamn.” She takes another sip of coffee, revels in the rich, fruity taste, the heat warming her insides, the caffeine flowing through her. “Seriously, I don’t think I can go back to my Keurig after this,” she says with a laugh.

Bob chuckles as he comes around the bartop and takes the seat to Katie’s left. “I dunno. Big daddy Navy might have something to say about that, but” - he takes a long sip - “I’m sure we could figure something out.”

“Eh, it’s nothing an SRC can’t take care of.”

A shrug and a lip-curl of agreement. “SRC’s do take care of a lot of things.”

“See? Problem solved.” Katie takes another pull of coffee. Right now she can’t get enough of it, it’s so good. “Just say that you’re, I dunno… establishing a coffee mess detachment in Norfolk. Y’know, something that says ‘mission critical’ and makes upper leadership happy.”

“Spoken as if it’s actually gonna work,” Bob replies with a snicker.

“Oh what, you think it won’t?”

“Trust me, I wish it would.”

“Oh, it definitely will. I mean, it’s gotta; I’ve got cute guy-supplied coffee on the line here.”

Bob’s cheeks color, and there’s just the tiniest hint of bashfulness in the smile that crosses his face. “Cute, huh?”

“Oh yeah.” She leans into him, hand running feather-light down his forearm before resting atop his free hand. “Very cute.”

Her heart still pounds in her chest when she leans in further and kisses Bob. She may be the picture of cool and collected on the outside, but there’s no controlling the anxious shriek of her nerves, the too-fast rush of her blood through her veins as her lips brush his, taste him. Kissing a man certainly isn’t a novelty for Katie, but…

This is Bob Floyd she’s kissing now, and Bob, he’s… Well, where the hell does Katie begin? He’s…

Unlike anyone I’ve ever met before.

She pulls back, surveys his face for a moment. Bob is blank-faced - dumbstruck, even. Clearly he wasn’t expecting a kiss this morning.

“What about what you said yesterday?”

Despite the hammering in her ribs, she sidles up next to Bob, leans until her lips are just close enough to brush the shell of his ear. Bold of her. VERY bold of her. “Just because we’re taking it slow, doesn’t mean I don’t want to kiss you,” she whispers.

Katie can practically feel the heat coming off of Bob all of a sudden, can feel the goosebumps prickling across his skin. Hell, his breathing hitches for a second. So. Close proximity definitely has an effect on him. It’s a bit of a mean thing to do this early in the morning, but she’s definitely got his attention with that. She’s also fairly certain he’s not going to complain much about it, if he even complains at all.

A moment later, Bob replies. “Well,” he says around a thick swallow, “thank god for that, because I haven’t stopped thinking about kissing you since Saturday.”

He hasn’t?

He turns back towards Katie, and picks up where she left off, nice, easy, no pressure. Unlike Katie, though, he doesn’t pull back after the one kiss. No - he stays there, wanting more, giving more. His hand comes up to cup her cheek, so nice and tender, and suddenly Katie’s the one with goosebumps. It’s so… intimate. It’s closeness that she hasn’t had, not in a long, long time.

And it’s closeness that she wants more of.

Her hands move of their own free will, creeping up to cradle Bob’s jaw, every bit as tender as the embrace he has her in, more more more please more -

And then the soft rattle of a doorknob turning has them breaking apart and shoving away faster than they have time to process. Dashed is the moment of closeness, the moment of bliss that Katie was all too happy to let herself sink into - like a bubble bursting and fizzing into the ether.

The door to the left-side bedroom swings open, and out comes Rapture, swiping a hand down his sleep-riddled face, the very picture of ‘I’m up too early against my will’ as he all but stumbles into the shared space.

He’s utterly oblivious to his WSO having kissed their fellow aviator all but two seconds ago, to the flushed pink tinting both their cheeks, their lips.

And dare Katie even think it for a second, but she’s… annoyed by the sudden appearance of Bob’s front-seater. Very annoyed.

“Pre-class coffee?” Rapture mumbles, to which Bob nods in answer. “Smells good.”

“Man, you have no idea. This stuff is amazing. You want a cup?”

Rapture all but moans. “Please.”

It’s a fight to keep a scowl from creeping across her face. Goddamn it Rapture, you couldn’t have done this earlier?

Bob seems to sense the thought running through Katie’s head, because his eyes dart to hers as he stands and goes to fix a cup of coffee for his front-seater - and if she’s reading the glimmer in them correctly, it’s definitely saying “I hear you.”

Perhaps he also had other things in mind before Rapture showed up.

In an attempt to be conversational while waiting on the coffee, Rapture turns to Katie. “How’re you doing this morning?”

“Not too bad. Enjoying my one moment of peace for the day before other people see fit to destroy it.” The smile on her face is polite, but tight. Very tight. Pointedly tight.

“Christ, that’s a mood,” Rapture mutters before taking the coffee Bob’s just passed to him and drinking, seemingly unfazed by the wording and stiff expression - and heaves a long sigh of bliss. “Y’think anyone’ll care if I take the mug with me off lodge property?”

“Uh… No?”

“Good. This is coming with me then. Fuck, this is good.” He takes another sip, smacks his lips, starts for the front door. “I’ll see y’all at the schoolhouse.”

Then, Rapture’s gone, breezing through the front door, leaving Bob and Katie to slump in the kitchen. Universe: one. Two romantically involved aviators: zero.

“God bless my front-seater, but he has terrible timing sometimes,” Bob all but groans.

“Yeah, tell me about it. S’pose we oughta’ follow his lead though and get moving; muster is in 15 minutes.”

“Yeah, you’re right; we should go. You driving or am I?”

“Eh, I’ll drive.”

“All right. Just leave your mug on the counter; I’ll wash it later.” Bob scoops up his notebooks and study material, dumps it into the black Navy-issued backpack resting against the kitchen floorboards, loops his arms through one of the straps, grabs his garrison cap off the counter. “Ready?”

“Whenever you are.”

“‘Kay. Let’s go.”

They march down the hall towards the stairwell at the opposite end, strides long and purposeful, minds clear and focused now. At least, Katie’s mind is, no thanks to Rapture and his sudden interruption. It’s definitely for the best though; being half-dazed and delirious from a kiss while learning rigorous combative flight technique is probably not the best state to be in.

They’re making their way down the stairs, boots all but thundering as they hit the steps, when Bob comes to a standstill right at the bottom. Katie’s lucky she catches herself in time; one more step forward and she would be tumbling over him.

“You good there?”

“Fine. Just forgot something, is all.”

Katie’s eyebrow shoots up. “Yeah? What’s that?”

Bob says nothing else - just turns and leans into Katie and kisses her, right there at the bottom the stairwell, one second, two seconds, three. When he pulls away, there’s a grin - a self-satisfied, mischievous one - on his face. “That. We’re good now.”

“You’re so ridiculous.” Even though her eyes roll and her voice scoffs, her lips still curl upwards in a smile.

“Can’t help it that I like kissing you - and that I’m gonna take every chance I get to do it.”

And with that, Bob smiles broadly, nudges Katie in the shoulder, and pushes through the door into the lobby, leaving Katie to follow with her mouth in a silly grin and her face flushed.

So much for having a clear mind today.

***

The outdoors call to Katie today, more than usual. It probably has something to do with today’s lecture and hop being on the more hellish side, but by the time everyone’s released for the day and she’s made it back to her room to change, the initial reason doesn’t matter all that much. She just has to get outside, and soon.

She texts Bob and Fanboy as she’s swapping over to shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt. “Going hiking, y’all wanna come with?”

Bob’s answer comes through almost immediately. “Sure. Where to?”

“No idea,” Katie texts, shrugging as she does, as though Bob can somehow see her reacting to the message. “You wanna pick?”

As Bob takes time to ponder, another message chirps through - Fanboy this time. “Fuck it, why not?” his message reads. “Where we going?”

“No idea. Bob’s picking a spot.”

“Cool cool. Bobber, where to?”

“Uhhhhhh thoughts on Bayside Trail? Two and a half mi roundtrip and it’s right along the ocean.”

Ah, a nice, quick oceanside hike. More importantly, a nice, quick oceanside hike at golden hour. How pretty - and romantic, Katie realizes a second later.

Shit. Fanboy is definitely going to read into this now.

She swears to herself, threads her braided hair through the back of the ball cap Bob bought for her, pulls it down tight on her head. She suddenly finds herself praying to the higher powers that be, asking them to please, for the love of all things holy, let her (and Bob, for that matter) have a nice afternoon without any prying questions from their friend, or (Christ) even so much as a sly sideways glance at the two of them.

HA, she thinks, then groans. Who the fuck am I kidding?

Much to Katie’s surprise, though, he doesn’t. In fact, Fanboy hardly says a damn word the whole time they’re together. Even when it’s an hour and a half later and she and Bob are drifting and talking to each other a good deal closer than most friends would, he doesn’t say anything.

Maybe he doesn’t notice, Katie thinks briefly, right before shaking her head. No way. He’s noticed and he’s just choosing not to say anything.

She all but confirms this when they reach the trail’s terminus and she snaps a picture of the three of them, standing high above the ocean in all its blue- and gold-hued glory, and goddamn it if Fanboy doesn’t smirk in the picture - smirk at her, more specifically.

Yep, he definitely noticed.

And he makes as much clear when he knocks shoulders with her on the return trip and murmurs to her, “Still think you’re not paying me that five bucks?”

“Yeah, when hell freezes over.”

“Y’know, that day might be coming a lot sooner than you think.”

“Fanboy, I’m gonna kill you.”

“Yeah yeah, only after you pay me.”

Insufferable, that one. Really and truly insufferable.

And yet, Katie doesn’t have it in her to resent Fanboy. For as much as he pokes at and pesters her about it, for as much as it drives her damn nuts, they both know that there’s a point being made:

Something is brewing between her and Bob, something big, and to continue to deny it is a fool’s errand. Fanboy’s right, and not only does he know it, but Katie knows it too.

…She’s still not giving him the money, though.

***

She hasn’t stopped thinking about Tuesday morning.

It’s been two days since then and her face still feels warm where Bob had laid his hand - tingly warm, good warm. A man caressing her face the way he did isn’t a novel experience to her - at least, it shouldn’t be; past boyfriends and flings have made similar moves in similar situations, but none of them affected her the way this one, this man, did.

It’s made Katie realize lately how badly - how very, very badly - she wants Bob to touch her like that. To touch her in general. To run his hands over her face and her body and…

Her cheeks go from pale and freckled to burning and flushed in a matter of seconds. It paints a wonderful image in her head, but she scolds herself. They’ve only just started figuring things out; she doesn’t need to be having those thoughts just yet.

But here she is, having them anyway. And she’s not in much of a rush to stop them.

Hands on her face. Hands on her body. Hands everywhere she can think to put them.

Oh god, she’s in trouble. She’s supposed to be meeting up with him in five minutes for some studying, and in his room, no less. How the hell is she supposed to manage that with the thoughts, the images racing through her head?

Katie groans, tips forward and lets her forehead smack against the mirror in her bathroom. “Please, I am begging you,” she moans to herself, “get your shit together. You’re supposed to be taking this slow, remember?”

If only it were so easy to keep that in mind.

She splashes some water on her face, wills her brain to stop racing and the flush in her face to disappear. The flush proves easy to dispel. The thoughts? Not so much. They circle and circle, over and over, and goddamn it, this is so not helping.

It’s only when she forces herself to think of the most unsexy things in the world - namely, UCMJ articles and the Navy code of ethics - that she’s able to feel calm enough to handle things. She’s in control. She can do this.

…Right?

Turns out that’s a lie - a big, fat one, because when Bob greets her in his doorway five minutes later, wearing a USN hoodie with the sleeves bunched up to reveal the tone of his forearms, Katie’s body goes hot and all thoughts of calm and control go flying out of her head.

Did he have to wear something that shows off one of the best parts of him?

Thinking those thoughts about a friend of yours… Have you no shame?

For once, Katie doesn’t wince at the nagging little voice in the back of her head.

“All right, I’ve got Thai food on the counter,” Bob says without a moment of hesitation. “I say we eat first and then dive into studying.”

It’s enough to snap Katie out of her momentary stupor. She nods in agreement and follows him through the doorway. “What’ve you got?”

“Summer rolls with peanut sauce, pork pad kee mao, and green curry with chicken. The pad kee mao’s good but if you’re not a fan of spicy, I’d skip it.”

“Well,” Katie asks as she takes a plate from him, “how spicy are we talking here?”

“Like a five, maybe a soft six out of ten.”

“Am I gonna be doubled over in your bathroom in twenty minutes if I eat it?”

“Eh, I don't think so. If you can handle last week's Chinese food, you'll handle this just fine."

Katie’s first response is to purse her lips in thought - then to take the spoon nestled in the noodles and dump a big scoop of them onto her plate. “Guess we’ll see how I’m doing in twenty minutes then.”

Luckily for her, twenty minutes go by without any issue (fire-coated throat and tongue notwithstanding). She makes a mental note to order from this place sometime after going for her second serving of pad kee mao and green curry. Or, better yet, to just have Bob make all her food decisions from now on. He hasn’t steered wrong yet and the food he’s picked out only seems to get better.

“All right - so, what do we wanna go over?”

“I mean, anything and everything,” Katie shrugs, “but uh… Lecture notes? Lab notes? Flight observations?”

“Lecture was pretty dense today…” Bob flips open one of his many notebooks, eyes scanning through line after line of bullet points and side notes. “Wanna start with radar?”

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

And so it goes. Books are flipped open, old notes are thumbed through, new notes are scribbled down in the margins. For Bob and Katie, it’s the heaviest use of their brain power outside of the schoolhouse.

Three hours later, at 2100, they sit side by side on the sofa in Bob’s living space, dialed into their studies while vaporwave drones in the background, poring over pages and pages of notes and analysis, over papers that lay scattered across the coffee table, over… Well, who really knows at this point?

Katie traces a line of text with the tip of her pen, willing the words to, one: make sense; and two: stick in any way possible. Whether it’s due to the late hour or her own subconscious desire to stop learning for the day, none of what she’s reading is making much sense to her.

Seems like there’s only one thing to do at this point.

She sighs, turns to Bob, whose eyes seem to rove over the same paragraph repeatedly in his book. “Is your brain as soupy as mine or…?”

Bob snorts. “Katie, if you tipped my head to one side, I’m pretty sure it would fall out of my ear.”

Noted.

“So we’re calling it for the night then?”

A nod. “Yeah, we’re calling it.”

“Fair enough.” Katie flips her guidance book shut, tosses the pen onto the coffee table with a curt sigh. “Now what?”

“Dunno - we relax, I guess.”

“As if we don’t relax together every weekend?” Katie says wryly.

“Ah, that’s different. That’s ‘morale is high and we have a whole day to ourselves’ relaxing. This is ‘stare at a wall and contemplate our life choices’ relaxing.”

“Seems a little sad, but I suppose you’re right.” Katie sinks back into the couch, blows a strand of hair out of her face. “I am kind of wondering what I got myself into here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, y’know, wondering why I said ‘sure’ to my boss when he told me I was going to TOPGUN, that sort of thing. All it’s done for me is get my ass kicked.”

“Well, even if it is getting your ass kicked, I’m glad you’re here.”

“Glad someone is,” Katie replies with snark.

“Hey, c’mon now, I am. You’re one of the few people keeping me sane here.”

“Oh, is that why you’re so interested in me?”

Bob only gives Katie a look that can be described as withering, but it’s hard to call it that when he can barely keep a smile from spreading across his face. “You know it’s for more than that.”

“I know. I’m just teasing. Oh man…”

Katie tips to the side, into Bob, her temple knocking into the curve of his shoulder. Bob, meanwhile, stacks himself on top of Katie with a sigh, cheek pressing into the crown of her head. His hand comes to rest on the inside of her leg, by her knee, but he doesn’t dare inch it up any further than that.

It doesn’t matter. Even in a spot so unassuming, his hand on her knee is enough to send lightning ripping up her spine.

Hands on her face. Hands on her body. Hands everywhere she can think to put them.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This man is going to be the death of her.

“Guess it’s my turn to be the nervous wreck now,” she comments wryly, voice bordering on a rasp.

She can feel Bob frown against the crown of her head. “Why do you say that?”

“Y’know how you weren’t able to stop thinking about kissing me? Guess it’s my turn now.”

“…Is that so?”

“Mm-hmm. Your hand on my knee is, uh, having quite an effect.” As if emphasizing her words, her knee gives a twitch beneath his hand.

“If it’s making you uncomfortable I can take it off-”

“No, no. It’s…” Oh man, why are words suddenly hard? “I want you to keep it there. It’s… It’s nice.”

“Yeah?”

She manages a nod, the words failing her this time. All she can think about - all that really matters - is his hand on her leg - that closeness between them.

Oh, they’re playing a dangerous game now. Katie realizes it the second the thought goes through her head. After that first kiss in the aquarium, she’s realized just how starved for physical contact she’s been, and with Bob being more than willing to give it to her…

Oh yes - a dangerous game, indeed.

And Katie can’t bring herself to care all of a sudden.

She turns, curls into him with a long, soft sigh, face pressing into the curve of his neck. He’s warm - so warm, and it radiates through, soaks into her, and it damn near makes her hum. This. This is nice. Real nice.

She drapes an arm loosely across him, nuzzles into Bob, seeking the heat of him.

Bob is utterly still beneath her.

…To hell with it.

Katie removes her face from the crook of his neck - only to lean in, mouth slanting over Bob’s in a soft, questioning kiss. Do you want this?

His hand slides up her shoulder, rests on her neck, pulls her closer, ever so gentle. Please.

She obliges. More than that, actually; she pushes in hard, steals the breath from his lungs and replaces it with her own. She needs to be close to him, as close as humanly possible - needs to feel him in some way.

And Bob? Bob meets her halfway every time she dips in, meets Katie touch for touch, kiss for kiss, sigh for sigh. His teeth prick down on her lower lip and tug it into his mouth, and it’s all Katie can do to clamp down on the heat surging between her legs. The thoughts from earlier resurface. She can’t get enough of the way he feels against her.

She needs more.

She threads her fingers into Bob’s golden-brown hair, nails digging ever so gently into his scalp. It’s been a long time since she’s done this - shamelessly made out with a man, lost herself in the fog of lips and teeth and tongue. Lips that burn hot against her own. Teeth that pull her in close, into him. Tongue that tastes her. And god, is Bob good with them - better than she would’ve guessed.

It makes Katie wonder what else he’s capable of…

Makes her wonder where else he could make her burn and feel utterly breathless.

Before she’s even fully aware of it, her leg is thrown over Bob’s lap and she’s half straddling him, body going through motions she hasn’t been through in ages, motions she’s all too happy to surrender herself to - that is, until Bob groans beneath her, and suddenly her brain catches up with the rest of her body and it all comes to a screeching halt. In an instant she’s pulling back, her breath frozen in her throat and her eyes wide in mortification.

“Oh my god-” She shoves herself off, puts some desperately-needed space between the two of them. “I’m so sorry, I got totally carried away-”

“Katie-”

“I’m not trying to give you mixed signals or force you into something-”

“Katie-”

“I swear I wasn’t trying to-”

“Katie!”

Katie freezes, a deer caught in the headlights. Did she just royally screw things up?

Her heart is hammering in her chest as Bob, with his mussed hair and flushed cheeks and full lips, reaches over and takes her face in both his hands, thumbs brushing over the lines of her cheekbones. “Look at me, look at me - it’s okay. You did nothing wrong.”

“But- But you groaned and-” Why, why, why does she sound like a nervous high-schooler? Christ - she really is out of practice with this…

Bob chuckles, and a bit breathlessly at that. “I can’t help it when I’ve got a girl practically on top of me, doing some real nice things to me…”

“I, uh… don’t know if that helps.”

“Katie, it’s fine. I’m having the time of my life here. I mean…” His eyes travel downward, and Katie follows them, and…

It’s the first time she’s looked at him since they started this whole thing - really looked at him. And now that she’s here, in this moment, there’s no missing the stiffness in Bob’s jeans. It’s a total rush of blood to the head, seeing how she’s affected him.

Katie lifts her head, light blue gaze meeting Bob’s newly dark blue gaze. “Do you want me to keep going?”

“Oh god, more than anything, but…” He’s gentle as he takes her hands in his. “Do you wanna keep going?”

The warmth pulsing between Katie’s legs all but screams ‘yes’ - but she finds herself sighing and drawing back. “Maybe we should hold back a little, or… I dunno. I think if we’re trying to take it slow and figure things out, this kind of isn’t the way to do it… Y’know?”

“Yeah, you do have a point there.”

She’s waiting for the 180, the moment when he tells her that he is, in fact, disappointed in her for stopping and guilts her into changing her mind. Only it never comes. Of course it never comes, because it’s Bob, and why on earth would he do that? He’s not one of the boyfriends of days past.

And he’s certainly not her.

“D’you want me to walk you back?”

Yes, and lock us in my room and pin me to my bed and- “I appreciate the offer, but uh, there’s that slight risk of getting handsy again and uh…”

Bob’s lips quirk up in a smirk. “Well, who says that’s a bad thing?”

The heat in Katie’s core flares like a sunburst. Whether or not Bob knows it, he’s making it damn difficult for her to want to slow this down.

“I think I’ll walk myself back,” she answers softly - then smiles. “But thank you.”

She doesn’t give Bob a chance to convince her to stay, or even to reply; to do so would be to invite trouble - tempting, fun trouble, yes, but trouble all the same.

She stands, gathers up her instruction binders and notebooks into her arms, her pens clasped in one hand, key card clasped in the other. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“See you.” His eyes remain locked on her, smoldering despite the easygoing, sweet smile on his face. It’s a look that sends heat blazing through Katie’s body.

Yes, time for her to go.

She turns, makes for the front door, slips through it, her steps silent.

She’s certain she can feel Bob’s eyes on her long after the door shuts behind her.

***

The walk back from Bob’s room to Katie’s own is a long one.

At least, she tries to make it that way. She makes her steps slow and measured, takes the stairs down to the first floor, then all the way back up to the third, and makes her steps even more slow and measured going down the hallway…

All in an effort to quell the burning of her body, the burning between her legs.

Something happened tonight - something big. Something earth-tilting.

Something that makes Katie want to turn on her heel and march right back to Bob’s room.

To finish what they started.

She approaches her room, heart thumping, pounding in her rib cage, body aching - aching in ways it hasn’t in a long time. Christ, everything in the realm of intimacy hasn’t happened in a long time. It’s been years between partners - hell, flings - and now she seemingly has one again and everything in her just… aches. Yearns.

Needs. Needs needs needs.

There’s only one light on in the living space of her room. In the bedroom to the right, it is mercifully black, quiet - the perfect environment to help quiet the storm roiling within her.

Hopefully.

Her study materials are tossed into the living space without a second thought, the single light shut off with a paw of her hand against the wall. She slips into the bedroom, closes the door, takes the one, two, three, four steps to her bed before twisting and falling back-first into it. It takes minutes for her to adjust to the darkness surrounding her, to the stillness that comes with it.

To the thoughts, the feelings it seems to invite.

Katie knows full well that she is alone in the room, but the darkness seems to conjure shadows, figures. Figures that can move. Figures that can do things. Things to her.

Things she had half a mind to do with Bob earlier.

Hands on her face. Hands on her body. Hands everywhere she can think to put them.

They were definitely going somewhere before her thoughts had stalled her and pulled her out of the fog, somewhere heated. Katie had felt one of his hands trailing down her side, coming to rest on her hip, fingers flexing, gripping firm yet gentle. Bob had wanted her there, just as much as she’d wanted to be there, and…

The ache is back. And it’s between her legs again, warm and pulsing and wanting. She squeezes her thighs together, bites her lip at the pressure it creates.

And it does nothing to alleviate the burning she feels. In fact, it intensifies it.

She needs more.

She needs release.

Somewhere in the five seconds it takes her to figure out what her body is desperate - screaming - for, Katie’s heartbeat goes erratic, off-sync and shaking in her rib cage. This. She really hasn’t done this in a long time.

Her breath stutters out of her mouth in shallow breaths as she reaches down and undoes the button and zip of her jeans, pushes them down to a bunch around her knees. The cool air from the air conditioning nips into the skin of her thighs and she twitches, presses her legs together again, writhes when it gives her that sweet, warm pressure, those goosebumps prickling across her skin. They’re featherlight, almost like the barest brush of a hand.

What Katie imagines Bob’s hands feel like, brushing ever-so-gentle across her bare skin.

She can envision it: the long, delicate fingers, the soft tips, the veins running along the back, those beautiful, beautiful hands just… touching, tracing, whispering along her.

Her hands move along the same trail he would take with his. They skim up the length of her quad muscles, drift up and across her hip bones, her stomach, the sensation like small bolts of lightning and heat on her skin. They continue upwards, nudging up the hem of her t-shirt, the band of her bralette, up and up and up, and they whisper across the swell of her breasts, now pebbled and sensitive in the chilled air of her room. Then, imagination has them moving back down, across the planes of her stomach, across her pelvis, and then her fingers alight along the lace edge of her underwear and…

She contemplates leaving them on and simply pushing them to the side, or even just dipping her hand beneath and forgoing the extra movement. She has no need for it, for all the suspense and built-up tension and thrill.

But what would Bob want? What would he do?

Bob, Katie decides, would pull them down - not all the way, just to around her thighs, just enough to give him full view, full access. He would want to see all of her; Katie’s sure of it.

So, she inches her underwear down, grants herself that openness, that exposure. The cold air breathes across her, across the wetness of her, and she shudders at the sensation and fuck, she needs to touch herself now.

Her fingers go low and drag upwards through her folds, arousal wetting the tips, and it’s bliss as they circle her clit, nice and slow and steady. She imagines it’s Bob doing it, that it’s his fingers circling her, rolling across her most sensitive parts. It could’ve been his fingers, his hands doing this, if she hadn’t let her brain catch up and she’d just let them feel, lose themselves to the pleasure, she thinks.

No matter now. She’s in the dark, and here, anything is possible. Here, Bob can give her the touch, the pleasure, the release she so desperately craves.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, deep in the recesses, a voice - a shitty, cutting one - hisses at her that what she’s doing is the height of crass, the height of disgusting, masturbating to someone she knows but isn’t quite involved with. She gives the thought maybe a half-second of consideration - and then decides that she doesn’t care, not as her fingers tease and touch and stroke softly. She finds that the voice deadens to a whisper the more she does it.

Of course, Katie finds that it disappears entirely when she drops her hand fully between her legs and slips her middle and ring fingers inside, palm pressing against her clit as she curls into her own velvet softness, breath leaving her lungs in a gasp, because oh good god, she forgot how good this feels…

And then she thinks of Bob doing it and suddenly her body blazes.

He had a gentleness to him when he touched her earlier in his room. The way his hands ran over her, sure and warm and soft… It’s that same gentleness she pictures, feels in the hand between her legs, that same soft touch that she writhes and arches against.

Hands on her face. Hands on her body. Hands everywhere she can think to put them.

It’s not long before heat, sinful and borderline unbearable, is pooling low in her stomach and her cunt is fluttering around her fingers, desperate for one more touch, one more stroke that will send her over the edge. It’s an effort to keep her moaning contained; she has to bite down hard on her lip to keep it from floating through the walls - but god, she can’t help herself. The things that run through her head, that she feels… In the dark, it’s Bob’s hand that Katie rides, his fingers that clench her bare breast, pinch and roll her peaked nipple…

And in the dark, it’s his thumb that drags up and presses into her clit, rolling and stroking across it, and it feels so good that it makes Katie want to sob, and… and…

It’s enough. She comes hard, a ragged cry tearing from her mouth as her body bows and spasms against the bed, against the hand still sliding into her, drawing out every last little bit of pleasure, until she finally collapses against the mattress, chest heaving with the intensity of it all. For something so… one-sided, it’s left her feeling spent - utterly mindless.

A feeling she hasn’t had in a long while.

Haze quickly fills her, the sleepy, sated kind. Katie doesn’t even bother redressing, or crawling into bed properly. She shucks off her half-removed clothing and flings them into the darkness of her bedroom, to be dealt with in the early hours of the morning. Then, she pulls the nearest edge of the covers over her, and wraps, swaddles herself within them, warmth immediately seeping into her naked body and lulling her, easing her into sleep.

Burning blue eyes are the last thing her mind conjures before she slips off into oblivion, warm, black, and depthless.

@thestagsheadsblog @everything-i-love-in-life @docdetective @luckyladycreator2

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #bob my beloved #robert floyd #bob floyd top gun #robert bob floyd smut #bob floyd smut #top gun #tgm #fanfiction #bob floyd fic #lewis pullman #female oc #robert floyd x female oc

13 notes · View notes