Sorry about the wait.

This chapter’s kind of short, but it’s following my outline, so just know that this is just how it’s supposed to be. I’m not skimping to give faster updates :D

Warning: EWWW HET!SEX.

Felicia

If I told you I was surprised that this was happening, you could call me fucking Bob Ewell. That is—you could call me the biggest fucking liar that ever had the misfortune to grace a courtroom. Not that I was witness to a crime or anything. I was, however, witness to making out with a half-naked Brody in the full-sized bed of a cheap motel in central California. And no matter what the hell kind of evidence I gave to my innocence, anyone could see that I was guilty as charged.

Not in a bad way, of course. Because his hands were warm and his lips were soft and his hair was just right as I ran my fingers through it. He pulled away from me, suddenly, his big brown doe-y eyes looking serious. “Leesh,” he breathed. “What are we doing?”

“We’re kissing. Stop talking.” And I kissed him again, shivering as he gripped my hips tightly with his large, long-fingered hands.

But he was apparently determined not to do so. “Wait. Uh. Shit. Leesh, we can’t… I mean…”

“Why not?” I demanded.

He seemed to crumple a little bit, and I could practically see his willpower melting like the Wicked Witch of the West. “This is what you want?” he checked.

I kissed him once, softly. “Yes.”

And then his lips were back on mine, his tongue pushing into my mouth and OH MY GOD I thought I was going to faint. His hands hesitantly find the hem of my tank top, and he waited a moment, catching his breath. When I didn’t shift away, he began to kiss me again, pushing his hand up under my shirt, gripping my rib cage. He bit my lip, and I was surprised, this time, to find that it was sexy. Very sexy. He paused, but I shook my head. “Don’t stop. Don’t think. Just do.”

He pulled me so that I was completely against him, every part of me seeming to touch every part of him. He tugged my shirt over my head, and I think I blushed. He kissed my throat, and I shivered more than once, in very good ways.

When he started touching my breasts, my brain became very hazy, and I sort of lost track of what was going on. Where was I? Why was I here, again? Wait… what’s my name? You know. If you’ve ever made out with someone like Brody Hansen, you’d know what I was talking about.

“We’re going to do it, aren’t we, Brody?” I found myself asking him, simply because it felt inevitable.

The fingers of his left hand we pushed below the waistline of my shorts, already, and I felt him nod. “If it’s what you want.”

“Jesus Christ, Brody. Of course it’s what I want! But what do you want?” I waited for him to say something, but he kissed me again. “Brody,” I reprimanded, pushing him away. “Do you want me or don’t you?” The curls that fell on his forehead stuck slightly with sweat, and I pushed them back, looking into his eyes in the dim light. All movement stopped in that instant, and we just looked at each other. “Do you want me?” I repeated.

In what appeared to be some sort of epiphany, Brody kissed me once more and whispered, “Felicia… I need you.”

We kissed for a few minutes more, and any articles of clothing that were left mysteriously disappeared. “Do you—” kiss “have a—mm—condom?”

“Yeah, I…” I regretted asking him this the moment he dragged himself away from me, to where his pants lay on the floor. “Are you sure?” he asked as he crawled back in beside me.

“Yes.”

“Don’t you want to think about—”

“No.”

He smiled. “Okay.”

After that, there was pain. But it was a strange, good pain. A kind of burning ache that spread through my whole body. It was the feeling of teeth on lips, hands on skin, hipbones crashing on hipbones. And in that instant, I saw where we were. We were here.

His hand grasped mine as we left the inexplicable state of being there behind us—as we entered the new world of here. It was nowhere and nothing, and no one but Brody and me. Maybe we wouldn’t stay—maybe we’d split up, maybe we’d die. Maybe we’d agree to be friends. But all I knew is that once we were here, we could never turn back. Here was the start of a new era.

When it was over, he laid me against his chest and I closed my eyes, feeling him breathe in and out, rhythmically. Beautifully. His arm went around me to stroke my far shoulder gently. “Leesh?” he whispered.

“Yes?”

“I really like you, Leesh.”

“Please. Like I didn’t already know that ages ago.”

He made an exasperated noise. “Then why didn’t we do this sooner?”

“We weren’t here yet.”

Brody didn’t say anything, so I could tell he understood. About ten minutes—or ten seconds, or maybe even ten days—later, he said, “I think I might be in love with you.”

I felt a little smile come to my face. “I think I might be in love with you, too.”

And that, I think, is what properly concluded the night, because Brody was asleep within minutes, and I followed soon after.

Brody

When I woke up, it hit me again that I’d just slept with Felicia McAdams. Like, while I was doing it, it was more like, “Oh, yeah, this is what’s happening.” Afterwards, though… I don’t know. I guess I was kind of scared. A little. I mean, Felicia was not good at decision making—maybe she’d rethink this whole thing and… shit.

But right now, she was still sleeping, and I was lying next to her and watching her breathe, and I felt kind of like a creeper, but… god, she was beautiful.

She suddenly breathed in, her eyes clenching in the sunlight, and I knew she was waking up. My arms were still around her waist, and I felt her shift to look at me. “Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” I replied stupidly.

She giggled. “You’re so pretty.”

“I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

She blushed, and I grinned. “What time is it?” she asked.

I looked at the clock on the nightstand. “Ten. Fuck. I’m tired.”

“Well, we have to drive another three-ish hours, and get ready, and be at the competition by eight. So. We can afford to rest a little.” She settled into my chest, and I sighed, breathing in the scent of her hair.

An hour later, I woke up again, and Felicia was gone. In my post-sleep haze, I admit I panicked a little, but then I heard the shower running, and I sighed in relief. Rolling out of bed, I wrapped the blanket around myself because goddamn it was March and I was cold. I got my sketchbook and a pencil and I wandered into the bathroom. I sat on the floor and leaned against the door, watching Felicia’s silhouette through the shower curtain. And I started to draw.

About ten minutes in, Felicia stopped moving and said, “Brody?”

“Yeah,”

“What are you doing?”

“Drawing.”

She snorted. “Drawing what?”

“You. In the shower. I can’t help myself, Felicia, I’m a horny teenaged boy.”

She started cracking up and continued to wash her just-past-shoulder-length hair. “Whatever gets you off.”

“You should get me off.”

“Your mom should get you off.”

“Ewwwww, Felicia!”

She started laughing again. “Sorry, it was one of those things where I didn’t really think about what I was saying before I said it. Your mom just comes so naturally to the tongue, don’t you think?”

I said nothing, and it kind of dawned on her what she just said. She absolutely cackled. I cracked a smile. She was so amusing, how she could just make herself laugh by accidentally saying dirty things. It was cute.

I finished my drawing and waited for her to get out of the shower. When it turned off, she slipped a hand out to grab a towel, and wrapped it around herself before stepping out. I frowned. “What?” she asked, looking at me. “Did you expect me just to pop out naked? I know we love each other now and all, but I’m not that nice.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Felicia McAdams,” I said, standing up and kissing her gently. “You will most certainly be the death of me.”

I took my own shower, and when I came out Felicia was already dressed and putting mascara and eyeliner on. Micki once convinced me to wear eyeliner to a concert—almost poked my eye out with it, too. Hmph. Haven’t worn it since. Besides, my eyelashes are thick enough that I really don’t need eye makeup to—you know what, never mind, I am a straight man and I don’t need to talk to you about my eyelashes. Shut up.

When we were both ready, we went to IHOP even though it was almost noon already. “Brunch,” Felicia said. “It’s normal. We’re not weird. It’s a thing that people do, when it’s too early for lunch, but too late for breakfast.”

“It’s actually not too early for lunch,” I pointed out. “It’s eleven thirty.”

“Shut up. No. You’re not paying attention. We’re having brunch.”

“Brunch,” I repeated as I began eating my omelet and Felicia her pancakes—with kiwis, of course. “Who invented brunch?”

“The same person who invented Gabilliam,” Felicia said, licking whipped cream off of her fork.

If I wasn’t so confused by her comment, the whole whipped-cream-thing might have turned me on. “What?”

She looked up at me. “Never you mind,” she said. “Kyoko just… well, never mind. It’s Kyoko’s fault, that’s all I’m saying. It’s all Kyoko. Her and her stupid Gabe Saporta obsession.”

“Like you and your Andrew McMahon obsession,” I pointed out.

Felicia blushed. “He is God, Brody. I would name my children after that man.”

I laughed. “Of course you would.”

“I would!”

“I don’t doubt you.”

A pause in which she glared at me occurred. “I. Would.”

“I. Know.”

We glared at each other a few more seconds before she leaned across the table and kissed me softly. “Okay. Let’s pay. And then we can head up to San Fran, woohoo!”

I shook my head. Crazy bitch. But she was mine now, so ha. Suck my dick, Liam O’Malley! Douchebag. Anyway.

We were back on the road, and she was playing The Resolution for the eighth time when I politely asked her to change the song. She rolled her eyes, but did as I asked. “It’s a good song,” she pouted.

“I agree; it was a good song the first five times. It progressively worsened.”

She tried to keep up her pout, but it didn’t work very well because she was laughing.

By the time we reached San Francisco, the sun was starting to set and we were a huge maze of traffic. I consulted the map and figured out where we needed to go, and by the time we reached the parking garage of the hotel that was hosting the competition, it was already seven-fifteen. We decided to change in the bathrooms of the parking garage, and Felicia gave me a little peck on the lips as she went into the women’s, leaving me to stare after her.

Damn. That girl.

The end! Of the chapter. There is… dun dun dunnnnnn ONE LEFT. Sad. I have been working on this for almost a year now, and I would just like to say… that you guys are all so wonderful and amazing and thank you so much for your comments, for adding this to your favorites, and for believing in it and all that other heart-sy love-y gooey crap. Thank you.

So yeah. Second to last chapter. I’ll miss this story. It was my baby. It’s my only full-length story, you know. I don’t know if you knew that. But all my other stories are oneshots. Except for that twoshot, which is… you know… a twoshot. Wah. Okay. I’m done being a nostalgic spaz. Review, maybe? It would make me oh-so-happy ;)

Thank you all again!!!

Sorry to the people who didn’t want them to have sex. It was necessary. Well. Not really, but I’ve been planning it since the beginning of this story, so… I felt it necessary. Okay. Enough from me, or my AN is going to be longer than my chapter. Thanks for reading!