Looking Glass (reposted)
folder
Romance › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
16
Views:
1,996
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Romance › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
16
Views:
1,996
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
The morning sun was shining, filling Deirdre’s room with light and warmth. She woke with a smile on her face, feeling safe and comfortable. And warm. Very warm. Hot, actually. She threw the covers off behind her—and hit Noah solidly on the shoulder.
“Fuck you,” he muttered sleepily. He tucked the covers more tightly around himself and rolled, falling instantly back asleep.
Deirdre was caught between the urge to laugh out loud and to run screaming from the room. What had she done last night? She had—with Noah. She cringed at the idea of him waking up and being all weird. Maybe she should get out of bed. She should get dressed and make some breakfast. No, that would look stupid. She wasn’t Mrs. Cleaver, after all, or Martha Stewart. What she should do is just leave—now, while he was still mostly asleep. She could just grab some clothes, her toothbrush, and her plastic bag and go. Of course, Noah would still call Thomas, even if just out of some misguided sense of responsibility, and Thomas would still search for her. That much hadn’t changed from last night.
But a lot of other stuff had changed. Last night, she and Noah were friends, sort of. Last night, she hadn’t known what he had tasted like. Last night—Jesus, he was almost like her brother! Well, Thomas was like her father, so that kind of made Noah her brother, right? Just how wrong was it to kiss a man who was like her brother? Of course, she should have thought of that last night.
She really should get out of bad, get dressed. She could leave a note, say she was staying at a hotel until school started, and she’d return the key to his apartment after she moved into her dorm room.
But damn, she was so comfortable, and—
And Noah’s arm flopped over her as he rolled over again. His hand landed possessively on her breast. Deirdre skewered him with a look. He was still sleeping—she thought—but smiling a little, too. He mumbled incoherently for a moment, but his tone was most definitely satisfied.
Suddenly, he popped an eye open. “You gonna kiss me good morning already, or what?” he said with a grin, squeezing her breast encouragingly.
“Noah—“ Assuming that meant that she wasn’t going to kiss him already, Noah made that move himself. Whatever else she was going to say just came out a surprised and slightly irritated “mmmff.”
“How can you be so okay with this?” she asked, half outraged when he finally let her wriggle free.
Noah shrugged, most of his brain occupied with those delightful wriggles that she didn’t know were distracting him so terribly. “Just going with the flow. Letting it all hang loose,” he said, tickling her sides.
Deirdre shrieked with laughter and gasped primly, “Well, something isn’t hanging loose.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him meaningfully.
Noah let out a bark of laughter himself and pressed his lips to hers, just because he felt so happy. He didn’t understand it—they had hated each other a few weeks ago. He hadn’t even realized that he was attracted to her until last night. Those dreams a few years back didn’t count—he’d also dreamed of Eleanor Roosevelt, proving that the women men were attracted to weren’t always the stars in the pornographic dreams they had. As he had told her, though, he didn’t see any reason not to enjoy this while it lasted. After all, there was nothing standing between them. Except his father, he remembered, and cringed.
“What?” Deirdre said, concerned. “I thought you were going with the flow. I liked the flow. Bring back the flow.”
“My father—“ he began.
“I’ve thought about this,” she interrupted. “I don’t see why he’d have a problem with this.”
“Not—have—a—problem?” Noah choked. “He’s my fucking father!”
“Yes, but—“
“And you’re his—“ Noah couldn’t even finish the sentence. It was too much. He couldn’t handle settling for hid dad’s sloppy seconds. A man living with a lovely young thing like Deirdre and nothing happening between them? It was too much to hope for.
“I’m his what? His mentee? His friend? What?”
“Yeah, you’re his friend, all right,” Noah grumbled. “You’re his friend with lots and lots of benefits.”
Deirdre looked at him, her eyes wide and her lips trembling. Was she going to cry, he worried.
“You think—Thomas and me—“ she broke off with a snort, and proceeded to kind of collapse in on herself, clutching her stomach, her shoulders heaving. Oh shit, she really was crying.
He patted her shoulder awkwardly. “Now, now. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure a lot of girls have relationships with older men. You don’t have to feel bad that I know.”
She looked up at him, finally. And he saw that she wasn’t crying at all. Or rather, she was, but only because her amusement at the situation was so extreme that her heaving guffaws couldn’t release enough of the pressure, which then forced its way out her eyeballs.
“Poor Noah!”
Poor Noah was not happy about the turn in the situation. “What?” he grouched.
Deirdre refrained from mimicking his gruff tone of voice, but just barely. “Your father took me in five years ago without any questions asked. Well, okay, they were asked, but he was okay with it when they weren’t answered. There were no strings attached, Noah, and never have been. He’s been like a father to me.” Noah interrupted with a whoosh of relieved exhalation. “Which means you’re kind of like my brother,” Deirdre added.
“Eww.”
“Exactly.”
“But I’m not your brother,” Noah pointed out.
“Well, no,” Deirdre hesistated.
“So there’s nothing wrong with doing this;” he grinned, and pinned her.
*************
2005
Of course, Deirdre didn’t give all the details of those last few episodes to Thomas, preferring instead to imply what had happened. Thomas would figure it out. But Deirdre was slightly irritated by the whoop of triumph that Thomas let fly. Seeing her face ice over, Thomas chuckled.
“I knew something more had happened that summer. You liked each other too much, and had hated each other for too long for the excuse ‘We just got to know each other better,’ to fly with me. Ha! You got to know each other, all right.”
In her mind’s eye, which still saw in full Technicolor, Deirdre could picture Thomas now, rubbing his hands together in glee. The gesture seemed too natural, and, popping her eyes open, she skewered him with an optical dagger of suspicion.
“Thomas, did you intend to throw us together that summer? Did you plan for us to hook up?”
“Erm... Well. Well, yes, as a matter of fact, I did. Of course I wanted my two favorite people to be happy, and I thought you would be happy together. And for a while there, you were.”
Deirdre could hear the fatigue in his voice, and used it as an excuse to go. It was a lot, she thought, as she counted her steps back to the lobby and out of the hospital. It was a lot, after so many years of silence. But Thomas was right, she mused sadly. For a while, they had been happy together.
The morning sun was shining, filling Deirdre’s room with light and warmth. She woke with a smile on her face, feeling safe and comfortable. And warm. Very warm. Hot, actually. She threw the covers off behind her—and hit Noah solidly on the shoulder.
“Fuck you,” he muttered sleepily. He tucked the covers more tightly around himself and rolled, falling instantly back asleep.
Deirdre was caught between the urge to laugh out loud and to run screaming from the room. What had she done last night? She had—with Noah. She cringed at the idea of him waking up and being all weird. Maybe she should get out of bed. She should get dressed and make some breakfast. No, that would look stupid. She wasn’t Mrs. Cleaver, after all, or Martha Stewart. What she should do is just leave—now, while he was still mostly asleep. She could just grab some clothes, her toothbrush, and her plastic bag and go. Of course, Noah would still call Thomas, even if just out of some misguided sense of responsibility, and Thomas would still search for her. That much hadn’t changed from last night.
But a lot of other stuff had changed. Last night, she and Noah were friends, sort of. Last night, she hadn’t known what he had tasted like. Last night—Jesus, he was almost like her brother! Well, Thomas was like her father, so that kind of made Noah her brother, right? Just how wrong was it to kiss a man who was like her brother? Of course, she should have thought of that last night.
She really should get out of bad, get dressed. She could leave a note, say she was staying at a hotel until school started, and she’d return the key to his apartment after she moved into her dorm room.
But damn, she was so comfortable, and—
And Noah’s arm flopped over her as he rolled over again. His hand landed possessively on her breast. Deirdre skewered him with a look. He was still sleeping—she thought—but smiling a little, too. He mumbled incoherently for a moment, but his tone was most definitely satisfied.
Suddenly, he popped an eye open. “You gonna kiss me good morning already, or what?” he said with a grin, squeezing her breast encouragingly.
“Noah—“ Assuming that meant that she wasn’t going to kiss him already, Noah made that move himself. Whatever else she was going to say just came out a surprised and slightly irritated “mmmff.”
“How can you be so okay with this?” she asked, half outraged when he finally let her wriggle free.
Noah shrugged, most of his brain occupied with those delightful wriggles that she didn’t know were distracting him so terribly. “Just going with the flow. Letting it all hang loose,” he said, tickling her sides.
Deirdre shrieked with laughter and gasped primly, “Well, something isn’t hanging loose.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him meaningfully.
Noah let out a bark of laughter himself and pressed his lips to hers, just because he felt so happy. He didn’t understand it—they had hated each other a few weeks ago. He hadn’t even realized that he was attracted to her until last night. Those dreams a few years back didn’t count—he’d also dreamed of Eleanor Roosevelt, proving that the women men were attracted to weren’t always the stars in the pornographic dreams they had. As he had told her, though, he didn’t see any reason not to enjoy this while it lasted. After all, there was nothing standing between them. Except his father, he remembered, and cringed.
“What?” Deirdre said, concerned. “I thought you were going with the flow. I liked the flow. Bring back the flow.”
“My father—“ he began.
“I’ve thought about this,” she interrupted. “I don’t see why he’d have a problem with this.”
“Not—have—a—problem?” Noah choked. “He’s my fucking father!”
“Yes, but—“
“And you’re his—“ Noah couldn’t even finish the sentence. It was too much. He couldn’t handle settling for hid dad’s sloppy seconds. A man living with a lovely young thing like Deirdre and nothing happening between them? It was too much to hope for.
“I’m his what? His mentee? His friend? What?”
“Yeah, you’re his friend, all right,” Noah grumbled. “You’re his friend with lots and lots of benefits.”
Deirdre looked at him, her eyes wide and her lips trembling. Was she going to cry, he worried.
“You think—Thomas and me—“ she broke off with a snort, and proceeded to kind of collapse in on herself, clutching her stomach, her shoulders heaving. Oh shit, she really was crying.
He patted her shoulder awkwardly. “Now, now. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure a lot of girls have relationships with older men. You don’t have to feel bad that I know.”
She looked up at him, finally. And he saw that she wasn’t crying at all. Or rather, she was, but only because her amusement at the situation was so extreme that her heaving guffaws couldn’t release enough of the pressure, which then forced its way out her eyeballs.
“Poor Noah!”
Poor Noah was not happy about the turn in the situation. “What?” he grouched.
Deirdre refrained from mimicking his gruff tone of voice, but just barely. “Your father took me in five years ago without any questions asked. Well, okay, they were asked, but he was okay with it when they weren’t answered. There were no strings attached, Noah, and never have been. He’s been like a father to me.” Noah interrupted with a whoosh of relieved exhalation. “Which means you’re kind of like my brother,” Deirdre added.
“Eww.”
“Exactly.”
“But I’m not your brother,” Noah pointed out.
“Well, no,” Deirdre hesistated.
“So there’s nothing wrong with doing this;” he grinned, and pinned her.
*************
2005
Of course, Deirdre didn’t give all the details of those last few episodes to Thomas, preferring instead to imply what had happened. Thomas would figure it out. But Deirdre was slightly irritated by the whoop of triumph that Thomas let fly. Seeing her face ice over, Thomas chuckled.
“I knew something more had happened that summer. You liked each other too much, and had hated each other for too long for the excuse ‘We just got to know each other better,’ to fly with me. Ha! You got to know each other, all right.”
In her mind’s eye, which still saw in full Technicolor, Deirdre could picture Thomas now, rubbing his hands together in glee. The gesture seemed too natural, and, popping her eyes open, she skewered him with an optical dagger of suspicion.
“Thomas, did you intend to throw us together that summer? Did you plan for us to hook up?”
“Erm... Well. Well, yes, as a matter of fact, I did. Of course I wanted my two favorite people to be happy, and I thought you would be happy together. And for a while there, you were.”
Deirdre could hear the fatigue in his voice, and used it as an excuse to go. It was a lot, she thought, as she counted her steps back to the lobby and out of the hospital. It was a lot, after so many years of silence. But Thomas was right, she mused sadly. For a while, they had been happy together.