(For T with all my love, and then some.)
The turbulence felt by the plane's other passengers was nothing compared to the rolls and flips her stomach was doing as they approached the ground with the engines screaming. Her heart raced, threatening to burst through the shirt she had changed six times that morning. What does a girl wear on a day like this she had wondered earlier, standing and staring blankly into her closet. She finally decided, the clothing she had tried on first an hour earlier sliding back on.
Normally confident and level headed, she was a bundle of nerves as the plane touched down and the moment neared. The moment neither of them had ever dared would come, the moment the more than two thousand miles between them would disappear, and they could stand face to face. Days and weeks and months of talking, whispering, aching, falling for each other over the machines they cursed, yet relied on to keep them close, but never close enough. All of that leading to this fast approaching moment, when she would truly be able to reach out her hand and softly touch his face, instead of just typing it.
As the plane rolled towards the terminal, she stuffed the book that she hadn't been able to read and the headphones she didn't recall even listening to into her bag and sat anxiously waiting for the fasten seatbelt light to blink off. When it did, and the other passengers started crowding into the aisle, she remained seated, trying desperately to catch her breath and steady her nerves. She shook herself finally and stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder and making her way off the plane. Once in the breezeway, she stopped, checked her reflection in a tiny mirror she pulled from her purse, ran her fingers through her unruly red hair and applied fresh lip gloss.
There was a crowd of people gathered to exit the gate, and she walked up slowly, knowing he was right there on the other side of the doors, waiting for her, likely just as anxious as she was. She stood there shifting from foot to foot, biting her lip, and then it was her turn. Through the door into the noise and lights of the airport she stepped, surrounded by a blur of unfamiliar faces, cringing slightly as she was jostled by strangers. Feeling disoriented by the large crowd, she turned in slow circles, scanning faces and trying to hang on to her bag.
And then, when she was on the verge of a minor panic attack, thinking that somehow she had made a mistake, he wasn't here, a hand flattened itself gently on her lower back, and an all too familiar voice, one she had heard countless times over the phone and in her head, whispered at her.
"Hey you," he whispered, his lips close to her ear.
She gasped, turned, and there he was, with his own smile hiding the nerves she knew were an echo of her own. The sight of him calmed her, yet sent sparks shooting through her body at the same time. Without hesitation, she smiled, slid her arms around his neck, stood on her tip toes, and kissed him softly on the lips without saying a word.
The hand on her lower back pulled her tightly against him and his other hand slid up into the long strands of her hair, tugging at it. She groaned into his mouth as the kiss deepened, losing herself in him finally. He tasted her lip gloss, then found the tongue she so willingly slipped against his.
There had been a thousand, maybe tens of thousands, of moments over the past few months where she had paused whatever she was doing to think of him, knowing he would smile at whatever it was she was looking at, wishing she could share every tiny thing with him. Not having him next to her in those moments was a void she hadn't even known existed until he had come into her life, but she had felt it dramatically since, and on occasion it almost brought her to her knees. But now, he was there, touching her, holding her, his heart beating against hers, as hungry for her as she was for him.
Finally, reluctantly, they pulled away just slightly - enough for her to bury her face in his neck and breathe him in, and for him to bend down and kiss the top of her head.
Overwhelmed, she just stayed there in his arms for a minute, then murmured, "I need to get my bag."
Unwilling to lose contact for even a second, they wandered over to the baggage carousel, his arm around her shoulder, hers around his waist, bodies pressed together. Watching the baggage go around, she spotted hers and leaned over to grab it. He stretched past her and picked it up, smiling at her.
"This is it?" he said with a raised eyebrow.
She nodded, "Yep, just one."
They both reached out their hands to grab the other, as if they had done it a million times before, and walked down the breezeway of the airport. He'd slide their joined hands up behind her back to guide her once in awhile as they walked, directing her through the crowd, out the doors, and across to the parking complex wordlessly, both of them rather at a loss for words. Past row after row of vehicles, then he set down her bag slowly, tugged the hand he held towards him, pulled her close, and stepped her carefully back against a car, his body pressed against hers. She was a bit startled, but relaxed in the embrace and leaned back as his knee wedged between her legs and he bent to kiss her. Her knees buckled as she felt, more than heard, the growl in his throat. The car and the knee between her legs supported her, her arms clung to him, and their lips crashed together. The worry that their chemistry wouldn't translate here in real life evaporated as she felt her lips swell, bruise, and throb against his. Suddenly aware of the knee grinding into her crotch, and just how aroused she was becoming, she tilted her head back and away, just to catch her breath. Then his teeth were on her exposed throat and she gasped, clutching her hand against the back of his head and holding his mouth against her neck.
"Oh goddddddd," she hissed, and squirmed beneath him, at once trying to get away from the intensity and pull him closer at the same time. Her arms fell to her sides and he lifted his mouth from her neck finally, noticing the angry red teeth marks he had left.
"Please tell me this is your car," she panted, then started to giggle, for lack of anything else to do with the liquid fire running through her body this very moment.
