Two days ...
Title: What Happens in Vegas ...
Characters: Jared Phillips (jaggedjared), Elena Munez
Universe(s): A Safe Harbor/Falling Starlight
Timeline: The Nebula and Disenchanted Storylines (because they overlap.)
Rating: Mature.
Written for jaggedjared
1.
It actually wasn't intentional. It wasn't like he planned to end up in Vegas with a couple of days off and a hotel room paid for by the label. Their paths crossed. He wasn't even aware of her schedule until the MDSE bus pulled into the HOB lot and he looked up at the marquee and saw Falling Starlight listed for the night after them. Instantly, before even unloading to join Travis in talking to the promoter, he pulled out his phone. When the fuck do you get to Vegas, woman?
Almost instantly, his phone chirped.
About ... three hours I think.
He actually dropped the phone. Actually dropped the fucking phone. Which was dumb because he needed to stop doing that. Quickly recovering, he responded We're here. Show tonight. You're on the list already because yes. See you here. God I need an elf hug!
Pocketing his phone, Jared shook unbidden images away. She was coming to Vegas to perform. They weren't on some romantic date or anything. Fate was just being a bitch.
"Jared get your ass out here!" Travis sounded impatient and Jared knew better than to keep him waiting. Switching gears, he bounced off the bus and joined the guys to do the stuff they had to do. Just because his best friend was coming to town didn't mean work stopped. Soundcheck had to happen and so did dinner with the label because they were in Vegas, not the middle of nowhere. The label would want to check in and schedule new appearances and he had to focus. But he couldn't concentrate on anything because it was his job but he was going to see his best friend tonight and he wanted to just hug her and talk to her and possibly fall asleep with her spooned against him because with her, he didn't get cold at night.
He hated admitting that.
He hated admitting it because even though they'd never had "the" conversation, the reality, especially lately, was implicit in everything they did. In everything they were as friends. They were too damned similar, too broken in all the same ways. But he was sure, absolutely sure, that even hinting that his feelings for her might be more than best friend like would ruin everything and she fucking understood him and he was terrified to give that up.
But maybe she'd curl up in his bunk tonight.
"As a courtesy," the label rep was saying, "we've provided rooms in the hotel tonight."
Really, universe? Were you trying to kill him? So. He'd get to convince her to come up to his hotel room. In Vegas. After a show. When his libido would be raging and Elena would be there on his bed.
"Why the love? Our bunks are just fine." Travis was joking. Jared wanted to throttle him. Curling up in a real bed with Elena? Joking meant the beds might go away. Stop fucking joking, Travis.
"Not every day a band sells out at the House of Blues in Vegas."
He allowed himself a moment of pride. Yeah, that was pretty fucking awesome.
Soundcheck, he reminded himself, following the promoter and the label guy into the legendary room at the hotel. His brain switched from dreamer to musician mode while they worked through what had to be worked through. It was an hour before show time, when he was changing into his stage clothes and fixing his makeup that he remembered to check his phone.
Look outside.
Parked next to their bus was a similar one, beige and black, a spray painted trailer attached. JJ's art muse had been busy apparently. Quickly, Jared tugged on his t-shirt and bounced down the stairs of his bus, only remembering at the last second to grab an All Access lanyard for her. Her bus door was open and the front lounge was mostly empty - a couple of crew guys were playing Call of Duty and as he made his way down bunk alley he could see a few curtains closed and he slowed his pace. People were dozing.
She was stretched out on the couch in the back lounge, wearing tattered jeans and a ratted tank top. Her feet were bare and her toenails painted very sparkly pink. A brown and white pit mix slept on the floor next to her. Her phone was in her hands but she turned her head as he came in and the smile she gave him was enough to make his stress melt away.
"Hey, J."
Fucking hell. That fucking smile.
"How did we not know this was happening?" He asked, lingering in the doorway, taking all of it in.
"What, us meeting like this?"
"Fucking gotta pay attention to tour schedules, woman." He bounced over. She hopped up. He hugged her and then whispered in her ear. "We're actually here through tomorrow night which means we get to see your set. So you'd better rock it out."
She giggled and he squeezed her even closer. He cursed the stirring in his body and quickly pulled away, hoping it didn't feel too awkward.
"I gotta go do pre-show stuff, but I'll catch you after, okay?"
A kiss to his cheek and she was already dropping back onto the couch. "I know where to find you."
He pressed the lanyard into her hands and then hurried off, trying to make the butterflies in his stomach go away. She smelled so good. That cinnamon perfume that always made him melt.
Backstage, the label guy was talking.
"So we've been talking with Skid Records."
Jared was already six steps ahead. They were putting Falling Starlight on a tour with them. They were gonna tour with Falling Starlight again. They were gonna fucking tour with Elena again. Elena and him on tour together. Tearing it up.
"Skid has them booked into Europe through December," the guy was saying. "But we've been looking for an opener for you guys for the Winter and Spring tour and they seem to be a good fit. They've always done well with you on a bill and we don't have to worry too much about opening egos since they don't have the same pull you guys do yet. And," the guy snorted, "it's fucking Skid."
Jared wanted to slug him. Elena loved working with the guys at Skid and he had to say he really envied the freedom that the other label allowed. They weren't required to do anything they didn't want to do. Their career was in their hands and as a result, they got to set their image, they got to choose how they were portrayed. There wasn't any fight when they wanted to try something different.
"I love it!" Travis was grinning, and focused. Jared zoned back in. "We know them," Travis was saying, "We know we can live with them. We know they're good draws too."
"All right, we'll finalize the paperwork."
"Sweet." Travis popped back over to the mirrors to finish his makeup. Jared swallowed and glanced down at his phone. Elena hadn't texted and there wasn't any reason for her to. But he wanted to text her, to break the news. Instead, the musician in his brain kicked in and his excitement over seeing his best friend had to take a backseat to finishing getting ready for the show. She wasn't going anywhere.
2.
She really hated to use the word "magic" to describe a musical performance. Of course music was magical. But it was so much more than that. It was science mixing with emotion. It was sound waves and the energy of people crashing around the room, driving everything harder and harder, bouncing off of every surface and intensifying until it made her feel like she really could fly.
After the show finally came to its epic closure and the band bounced off stage, Jared caught her up in his arms, squealing. God he felt good and she didn't want him to let go. For the last couple of months, their conversations had been like the energy on stage, building and building, and it felt like tonight they were at the crest of the wave and something had to happen. Something had to change. But did she want to risk telling him that when her fingers slipped between her legs at night that she was thinking of him? Did she want to risk his rejection if she kissed him like she dreamed over and over again she had? Did she want to risk screwing everything up just because he was so sexy on stage and now she could feel his muscles under his shirt and she wanted to slip her hands up under it and trace his chest?
What if he didn't fucking feel the same way?
When he'd texted her and told her he was going to be there in Vegas tonight, she'd actually squeaked. Now she was terrified. Now she just wanted to know what came next.
"It fucking rocked out there," he said, breathlessly.
"Yes you did." She grinned. "Do you guys have post show obligations?"
"Always," laughed. "Come on and hang, I'm starving and there are sandwiches."
"Aren't there always?"
"There might be BLTs and Travis will eat all of them. Come on."
As always, it was impossible to say no to the Jared train when it was moving full speed ahead so she followed him back to the green room, where Travis was embracing fans and Mickey was showing off his dog and Jared was instantly mauled by girls. Elena stepped back, allowing them their spotlight, glad to chill on the couch for a while and watch him work the room. Yes. There were sandwiches. Of course there were sandwiches. They were the staple of every band's rider. She grabbed one and nibbled at the edges, wondering where her bandmates were. Probably the bar. A couple of fans recognized her. She posed with them for some selfies. But really, she was background noise and liked it that way. She liked watching Jared work the room. He was as introverted as she was, but when he was in his element, he really did shine.
Finally, he plopped down next to her and handed over a beer. She smiled, clinked bottles with him, and took a long swig. It was crappy American brew, but it still had a touch of a bite and she sighed contentedly and leaned against him. His arm tightened around her and suddenly she felt his breath against her neck. "They gave us all hotel rooms tonight ..."
Did he sound hopeful?
She didn't want to acknowledge the tingle that shot through her body. For years they'd been fighting crossing the line from best friend to best friend who had seen each other naked.. But lately everything had been weird and everything had felt different and she didn't want to acknowledge the wheres and whys so she just let the weirdness be because fucking hell she wasn't going to ruin her relationship with the one guy who fucking understood her brain.
But he sounded hopeful when he told her about the hotel rooms and his arm was tight around her and suddenly his chin was on her shoulder and his head against hers. "Come upstairs with me, Elena," he whispered. She shivered. It wasn't the first time they'd shared a bed but she wanted it to be more than them just passing out after a show. She wanted him to touch her. She'd worn this short skirt for more reasons than because she looked good in it. Slowly, she molded her body back into his.
"This is the problem with being on an indie label," she teased, trying not to freak out too much. His fingers were moving slowly down her thigh and toying with the hem of her skirt. She glanced around. No one noticed. Or seemed to. What would she do if those fingers moved up the inside of her leg?
"What, they never spring for hotel rooms?" Was his voice breathy?
She laughed, her eyes still on his fingers. "I've accepted my eternal tour bus life. It's comfy." She moaned playfully. He tightened against her. Okay. So she wasn't just dreaming. The air had changed. "A shower. A real shower. With water and everything."
"And towels. And little fancy soaps."
His breath was still in her ear and she knew he could feel the change in the energy as much as she could. His fingers stopped toying with the hem of her skirt and tightened briefly on her thigh. He kissed her cheek and stood up, holding out his hand. She followed more than willingly. Travis was charming some beautiful boy with black hair and waved a giggle as they walked out. On the way to the elevator, Jared linked their hands. Halfway there, he stopped and looked at her.
"What?"
"All my clothes are on the bus and I sure as hell am not staying in these after I shower."
Elena giggled. "Fair."
"Here," he handed over the room key. "You go up. I'll get my stuff from the bus and bang really loudly when I want you to let me in."
She took the key and held it between her fingers, "I don't have clothes either, you realize."
"You smell better." But he looked her up and down and she felt her breath come a bit faster.
She handed the key back. "Let's both go grab our backpacks. Fuck, if I'm showering, I'm getting clean undies."
"More than fair." He pocketed the key and took her hand again. They made their way back through the club, where patrons had mostly filtered out into the casino, and to where the buses were parked. She grabbed her go bag, he did the same, and ten minutes later, she was stretched out on the bed, ordering bad room service (yes, they wanted three orders of fries thank you very much) while he hummed away in the shower. She'd always loved his voice.
She paid for the food - it was better for it to go on her credit card rather than somehow get docked from MDSE's budget - and by the time he emerged, dressed in boxers and a tattered Joan Jett t-shirt, she was three bites of a veggie burger and six fries into the order. He stared at her. She sat up. He joined her on the bed and reached for a fry.
"Do you want to shower?" He asked. But he was staring at her legs and she shook her head.
3.
Logic said "Don't kiss her."
His brain said "Don't kiss her."
Seven years of friendship, heartbreak, and being there for each other during the darkest times in their lives all said "Don't kiss her."
So, he kissed her.
He kissed her and when she didn't pull away, he pushed forward, just a bit, testing waters he wasn't sure he should test but by kissing her he'd already crossed the fucking friendship line so what else could happen? Right?
But she wasn't pulling away. No her hands were working into his hair and she was sliding onto his lap and that skirt was riding higher and higher and he wanted the kiss to go on forever but the logic part of his brain was starting to break through the part that had waited seven years for this moment and when his hands slid up under her skirt and he could feel the heat between her thighs, he shuddered and pulled back.
"Shit, E, I ..."
"Fucking hell, Jared. Don't say you're sorry. Did I say no?"
"That's the thing," he groaned. The kiss had gone right to his cock and it wasn't like boxers hid boners and she was right there on his lap. "I'm not sorry. God I'm not. But I don't know what it fucking means beyond how good it all felt." He stared at her, waiting for her to say something, anything. Waiting for her to tell him that they needed to stop because he really wanted to keep going and he wasn't sure what that all meant for either of them and they needed to talk and he knew that, so when she reached over to the nearby plate and popped a fry into his mouth, he chuckled.
"What do you want it to mean, Jared?"
Fuck. Of course she'd do that to him. She'd start him off on it. She'd make it all fucking ... she was the smart one really.
"I don't know, E."
She sighed. "That's what scares me."
"What do you want it to mean?" He asked, risking a touch to her arm. Her scars were hidden under fishnets tonight.
"I don't know," she hedged But she was shifting on his lap and fuck, he could smell her arousal. Fuck. She wanted this as much as he did.
"Why not?"
She leaned back a bit, he wound his arms around her hips to keep her from falling back. "Because I love our friendship, J. I mean are you kidding? Fuck." Her eyes were glistening. "I fucking love you in so many ways but if we change ourselves .... our relationship ... what does that mean? What if we break up? I'm not kidding when I say that I don't know what I'd do if you weren't in my life."
"I don't either," he said. And he meant it because she was his girl, always. But he wanted to kiss her again. He wanted to feel her under him again. He wanted ... he wanted what this had been building to since that first conversation when she'd really been too young for him and he was just so happy to find someone who understood him.
He also wanted to eat and watch dumb movies and it didn't fucking make any sense in his brain.
But wasn't that what a relationship really was?
Her eyes were still locked with his and he fucking jumped. His hand moved back down her thigh and up again, this time not stopping until he toyed with the edge of her panties. She bit her lip and nodded, barely, granting him leave to slip his fingers under the cloth and between her folds. She was wet.
Despite knowing how funny and awkward sex could be, when he fantasized about sex with Elena, it was always romantic movie caliber. Their clothes would magically fall away and they'd be naked together in a breath, gasping and moaning as they flew toward a simultaneous conclusion. Instead, because she wasn't balanced with both his hands anymore, she fell backward off his lap. The fries on the plate near them spilled onto the bed. Elena giggled but his laughter was forgotten; her nipples were poking through her tank top and her skirt was now around her waist, revealing black cotton panties. He groaned and leaned over her, kicking fries out of his way. His fingers moved up across the smooth expanse of her stomach, under her shirt. He could feel the muscles underneath the skin as they jumped and twitched - she was ticklish. Up further, impeded only slightly by fabric, until he brushed the underside of her breasts. She shivered and the goosebumps crossed down his skin, heightening his response, and as she arched back into him, he grew bolder, stroking the soft flesh until she let out a sigh that coursed through him. Slowly, his hand moved to cup her breast and he rolled her taught nipple between his fingers until she was squirming.
The food was forgotten.
Elena sat up and he tugged her shirt up and over her head and it only got a little bit tangled in her hair before he pushed her back down into the pile of pillows around them. There was too much to touch, so many places he wanted to taste because he was sure, absolutefuckinglutely sure that this was a dream and he was going to wake with soaking sheets and his pillow stuffed in his mouth and his bandmates ready to tease him.
But no, her fingers were curling in his hair and the salt on her neck tasted hella real. Unable to stand it, knowing if he thought too much he might stop and then it would be even ore awkward later, he pulled back and shucked his own shirt - which ended up on top of a veggie burger - and despite how much he wanted to slowly remove those black panties and watch her open for him, he more wanted to get her naked and bury himself inside of her. Only as she arched her hips, helping him remove both the skirt and the panties at the same time did he realize she'd already removed her boots. Oh thank god for small favors.
Her small, strong hands were pushing his boxers down and he had to kick a bit getting them off but fucking hell they were both naked. "Do I need anything?" He asked as he leaned over her, his hand tracing her body. Her legs were parted and he watched as she took his fingers in hers and guided them between her legs. Shit. She'd thought about this too. She knew what she wanted him to go.
He almost came.
Instead he slipped a finger into her body and watched her hips arch and flex and he added a second finger, pushing his thumb against her clit. Her hand held onto his and it was the sexiest fucking thing he'd ever seen.
"I'm on the pill ..." she moaned as he worked her. "I trust you ..."
He was clean. He knew that much. Got tested before every tour and hadn't seen so much as a flashed boob recently.
Her skin shimmered just a bit, a sheen of sweat breaking out across her chest as she came closer and closer to the edge. Slowing his fingers, he pulled both of their hands free and chuckled at the look she threw him but he pulled her close. "Come here," he urged. She sat up and straddled him, reaching down to take his cock in her hand and guide it into her body. They both groaned as she settled onto his hips.
It didn't last long. He was too fucking excited and anxious. But once they were joined he moved his fingers back to her clit and stroked her while she rode him and even though he came first, she gasped his name when she was done and collapsed back on top of him, trembling.
"Fuck ..." she whispered. And even though he agreed with the sentiment, he was also terrified that she was already regretting this. Her shoulders were shaking and she was clutching the pillow next to his head. "Fuck, J. We ...Fuck."
Fuck. He wasn't about to let her do this to herself. "Don't." He kissed the side of her head. Fuck. She was regretting it. Now what? "Don't overthink it right now. Please."
And then she giggled and pulled back and despite the light in her eyes, there was a dangerous look. She was terrified they'd just screwed everything up. "This is me."
"Yeah, well. It was worth a shot." He stroked her breast, hoping she'd let him touch her again. And again. And again. She didn't pull away. He grew bolder. "Don't leave. I really didn't mean to get you naked. I don't mind but it wasn't planned. E ... don't leave."
"I'm not." Finally she pulled away and slipped off the bed, which belied her words, but she came back after a minute with a towel and a damp wash cloth. Stretching out next to him, she ran the cloth over his chest and down around him, stroking slowly. "I'm not going anywhere," she whispered. "I'm fucking terrified that we just screwed everything up but if we screwed everything up, I'm going to enjoy it tonight."
He let out a very relieved breath. "I was thinking the same thing."
"Good."
He took the cloth from her and tossed it away. He rolled them, pinning her. "I'm taking my time this time," he said as he kissed her collarbone and made his way down her body with his mouth. When he reached the juncture between her thighs, he took his time, kissing and sucking and rolling her already sensitized clit in his teeth. This time when she came, she dug her nails into his shoulder and screamed his name.
4.
Somewhere, something was buzzing. Elena groaned and reached down for her bag, hunting through it with one hand. Finally she found her phone and pulled it to her face, staring into the blinking screen. We're going to breakfast at the buffet. If you want to join us. Even in her half-awake state she could sense JJ's snickering. Yeah, everyone would know what had happened. She wondered if she cared. She was too tired to care. Too sore. Too happy. Fuck, she was happy. That was a first.
Groaning, she unwound herself from the sheets and took a look around the room. The room service tray was upended and she felt back for the housekeeping staff. Clothes were down on the side of the bed and she reached down and picked up Jared's t-shirt, tugging it over her head. Next to her, Jared was starting to stir and she watched him stretch and groan, a waking up ritual she'd seen countless times. But it felt different this time. Of course it was different. Her fingers reached over and traced his arm and she shivered and dove back under the blankets next to him. He cuddled her close and she closed her eyes, trying to make sense of it.
"You're overthinking again," he said. She laughed. He was right. "Stop," he murmured.
"Can't help it."
"Why?" He cuddled even closer and kissed her shoulder and she sighed. His morning erection was poking at her. "Wait, because you're leaving after your show tonight and I'm heading out in the morning and we probably won't see each other until oh, January, because of schedules and because you're my best friend and I'm yours and we just crossed that really icky line between seeing each other naked and having sex?"
"Icky?" She asked.
"I know your brain. That is what it is saying."
"Shut up," she said. But she swatted him. He was right.
He giggled and then slid his arm over her stomach. "Hey," he whispered, "listen."
"What?" She really was starting to freak out.
"We'll figure it out and if it means we just need to take a breath, then we take a breath, okay."
"Figure what out, Jared?" Maybe she wanted him to say it. Maybe she wanted him to just say he wanted to be with her and that last night had been more than just their tired, stressed out, overly charged hormones. She wanted him to say it because she wanted him to be the brave one. She wasn't brave.
"Whatever this is." He kissed her again. "I was up after you passed out. Overthinking."
That made her laugh. "Oh?"
"Yeah, and here's what I think. I think we won't see each other for a while and so the distance will be good for us because we can just talk. And if we want to try our hand at a relationship, we try our hand at a relationship otherwise we just ride this out and yeah, it'll be weird for a while, but you're my best friend, E. What happened last night - and maybe today - isn't changing a fucking thing."
She sighed and curled up even closer to him. "You're hoping for a lot there, buddy."
"Yeah, well, last night was more than I ever expected." His hands were tracing her skin.
"You think we'll be okay?"
"You're my best friend. You're in my head. I'm not going anywhere, E."
"Not even to breakfast?"
He chuckled at that. "You're hungry, hmm?"
"Well ... we did kind of forget dinner last night and I have a show today. Gotta eat something substantial," she said. But the hungry look in his eyes made her want to stay right in bed.
The knock on the door from housekeeping made them both jump. And then laugh. She giggled. "Clearly you didn't plan this or you'd have put the do not disturb on the door."
"Fuck," he groaned.
Elena jumped off the bed and hurried to the door. "Can you give us a few minutes?" She asked as the woman's head poked into the room. "Vuelve en veinte minutos, por favor?"
"Si," the woman responded. Elena closed the door and leaned against it and then just grinned at Jared. "Come on. We've got twenty minutes and the boys are downstairs having breakfast and I know by now they've hooked up with your boys and that could be bad for us."
"They're gonna know ..."
She smiled and decided to be brave. "Yeah, but it's okay."
"You sure?"
"Yeah." She groaned. "Come on. I'm rinsing off. I smell like you."
He snickered and rolled off the bed. "Well, I smell like you. So."
5.
They arrived down at the buffet with hair still wet and fingers entwined and Jared had never been happier. At least until Chris grabbed Elena and dragged her a little ways off and he could hear the usual tour manager spiel coming from him, but knew the "we needed to know where you were" had nothing to do with worry for a band member because it was clear that JJ and Micah had been able to do simple math and that Chris was an ass. Elena was starting to cower. Unsure what his role was though, Jared just stayed close by, keeping an eye on things. He wasn't sure when was appropriate for him to jump in and punch Chris.
Travis was smirking. Mickey was flat out grinning. Yeah, Jared realized. Everyone knew. Everyone knew, but no one said anything and Jared appreciated that. Not for himself because he kind of wanted to leap from the rooftops and scream about how amazing it was that he and Elena had finally done what he'd been dreaming of for years, but for Elena, who looked anxious and nervous, especially around Chris who, Jared realized quickly, was far too possessive for any logical human being.
Elena's "I'm going to go eat," was accompanied by an epic roll of the eyes and pulling away and when Chris grabbed her arm again, Jared stepped in and slipped an arm around her waist, leveling Chris with a glare.
"Come on. The guys are waiting," he said.
"Thank you," she murmured close enough for only him to hear and Jared shivered at the tone. This douche seriously needed to get gone. No wonder Elena was freaking out.
He wanted to say something cheesy and cute about how it was now his duty or something, but they weren't sure what was going to happen with what had happened last night so he didn't push it. Instead, he paid for her breakfast since she'd paid for dinner and made sure she sat next to him. It took about two minutes for any residual weirdness to fade away as the musicians started exchanging stories and bitching about bunk size.
Nothing was going to change, he realized, not unless they wanted to make this even better and it really could fucking be amazing. He just had to make sure that Elena realized it and knowing her, scenes like the one Chris just pulled were going to make her pull away.
6.
She'd felt him there all show. He'd been standing there when she changed out basses. He'd grinned during her solos. And he was standing there when she came off stage, dripping sweat and pulsing energy. Her tech took her bass and she turned to Jared and when he grabbed her around the waist, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Hard. Fucking hell that felt good and right. That. Right there. She'd spent the day psyching herself out and now when the moment came, it felt like it was something they'd always been doing and she wanted to do more of what they'd done last night and shitballs. Her brain was a fucking mess. But she was hot and turned on and part of her wanted him to push her into the green room and have his way with her against the door.
"What time is bus call?" He asked. It sounded more like a groan and she understood.
"Four."
"Good." He pulled her even tighter against him. "How long are you at the merch tables?"
"If you let me go," she teased, "I'll be done faster."
Instantly, he dropped his arms and pushed her away. "Run!"
She giggled and grabbed the towel that was handed to her, draping it around her shoulders as she walked. Jared followed, linking their fingers. She squeezed and then stepped away where the world crew ambassadors were waiting along with their merch guy, the tables ready for them to sign while merch was bought. It was a well oiled machine that had been running since their early days back in Brooklyn. No one tried to jump the line. Everyone knew they'd get their turn and they did. Even with the clock ticking in the back of her mind, Elena didn't scrimp on any time with any of the fans. But as things started to die down, she saw Jared slip away and she panicked until she saw him coming back, drinks for all of them in hand. He slipped behind the table and everyone took a drink.
"You rock, J." Elena said as she set her sharpie down.
It was one AM. She was trying not to count the hours but she didn't want to leave until she'd had time alone with him again, to kiss him, to touch him, to promise him that she just needed time to think.
Forget that this was the best she'd felt in years.
A fan came up, shyly asking for an autograph. They all signed her newly bought shirt and posed for pictures. For a moment, Elena's libido was forgotten. None of their fans ever left feeling ignored and she wasn't about to start now.
When things were officially done, they helped to pack the boxes and turned things back to the crew.
Two AM.
Jared grabbed her hand and she followed and thank god the elevator was empty because he pushed her back against the wall and her leg went up over his hip while he kissed her. At their floor, they stumbled to his room and she tore his shirt getting it over his head and her skirt stayed on as he bent her over the arm of the couch and sank into her.
God, why was she so fucking scared of feeling this fucking good?
The second time it was on the bed, her face buried in the pillow as she bit it to muffle her screams. Her boots were still on. Her tank top pushed up over her breasts. He bit her shoulder as he came.
"Please." He sighed and pulled her onto his lap after she took advantage of his shower. "God, E ... what next?"
She checked the time "I'm late for bus call."
"But ..."
"I know." She cuddled close and rested her head in the crook of his neck. "J, I don't know and I'm so scared because you're my best friend and ... I need to go over think this, okay? I need to go be crazy for a little while about it. Because this all felt so perfect and perfect scares the fuck out of me because you know how I feel about perfect."
"Okay." He kissed her softly and she could tell he was disappointed. They were both going to be miserable until she talked the anxiety bunny in her head back from the ledge. "Just don't pull away," he whispered. "I'll give you all the time you need to figure shit out, but talk to me. Fuck. Please. Talk to me."
"I will." She stared at him. "You're still my best friend, right?"
"Forever and a day."
This time the kiss was softer but he held it longer, and she embraced every scent and touch and taste. But her phone was buzzing so she pulled away and ruffled his hair before grabbing her backpack and answering. "Yeah," she said, waving as she walked out of the hotel room, "I'll be there in five."
When the door closed behind her, she took a minute and leaned against it, willing herself to not cry. But she was in his t-shirt and everything smelled like him and she could still feel him inside of her and she wanted nothing more than to go back inside and kiss him and tell him the truth.
She loved him.
But love was a scary word and she just didn't know what it all meant. Not when love meant her best friend and risking everything to be with him.
So she pulled herself together and headed back toward the bus.
Characters: Jared Phillips (jaggedjared), Elena Munez
Universe(s): A Safe Harbor/Falling Starlight
Timeline: The Nebula and Disenchanted Storylines (because they overlap.)
Rating: Mature.
Written for jaggedjared
1.
It actually wasn't intentional. It wasn't like he planned to end up in Vegas with a couple of days off and a hotel room paid for by the label. Their paths crossed. He wasn't even aware of her schedule until the MDSE bus pulled into the HOB lot and he looked up at the marquee and saw Falling Starlight listed for the night after them. Instantly, before even unloading to join Travis in talking to the promoter, he pulled out his phone. When the fuck do you get to Vegas, woman?
Almost instantly, his phone chirped.
About ... three hours I think.
He actually dropped the phone. Actually dropped the fucking phone. Which was dumb because he needed to stop doing that. Quickly recovering, he responded We're here. Show tonight. You're on the list already because yes. See you here. God I need an elf hug!
Pocketing his phone, Jared shook unbidden images away. She was coming to Vegas to perform. They weren't on some romantic date or anything. Fate was just being a bitch.
"Jared get your ass out here!" Travis sounded impatient and Jared knew better than to keep him waiting. Switching gears, he bounced off the bus and joined the guys to do the stuff they had to do. Just because his best friend was coming to town didn't mean work stopped. Soundcheck had to happen and so did dinner with the label because they were in Vegas, not the middle of nowhere. The label would want to check in and schedule new appearances and he had to focus. But he couldn't concentrate on anything because it was his job but he was going to see his best friend tonight and he wanted to just hug her and talk to her and possibly fall asleep with her spooned against him because with her, he didn't get cold at night.
He hated admitting that.
He hated admitting it because even though they'd never had "the" conversation, the reality, especially lately, was implicit in everything they did. In everything they were as friends. They were too damned similar, too broken in all the same ways. But he was sure, absolutely sure, that even hinting that his feelings for her might be more than best friend like would ruin everything and she fucking understood him and he was terrified to give that up.
But maybe she'd curl up in his bunk tonight.
"As a courtesy," the label rep was saying, "we've provided rooms in the hotel tonight."
Really, universe? Were you trying to kill him? So. He'd get to convince her to come up to his hotel room. In Vegas. After a show. When his libido would be raging and Elena would be there on his bed.
"Why the love? Our bunks are just fine." Travis was joking. Jared wanted to throttle him. Curling up in a real bed with Elena? Joking meant the beds might go away. Stop fucking joking, Travis.
"Not every day a band sells out at the House of Blues in Vegas."
He allowed himself a moment of pride. Yeah, that was pretty fucking awesome.
Soundcheck, he reminded himself, following the promoter and the label guy into the legendary room at the hotel. His brain switched from dreamer to musician mode while they worked through what had to be worked through. It was an hour before show time, when he was changing into his stage clothes and fixing his makeup that he remembered to check his phone.
Look outside.
Parked next to their bus was a similar one, beige and black, a spray painted trailer attached. JJ's art muse had been busy apparently. Quickly, Jared tugged on his t-shirt and bounced down the stairs of his bus, only remembering at the last second to grab an All Access lanyard for her. Her bus door was open and the front lounge was mostly empty - a couple of crew guys were playing Call of Duty and as he made his way down bunk alley he could see a few curtains closed and he slowed his pace. People were dozing.
She was stretched out on the couch in the back lounge, wearing tattered jeans and a ratted tank top. Her feet were bare and her toenails painted very sparkly pink. A brown and white pit mix slept on the floor next to her. Her phone was in her hands but she turned her head as he came in and the smile she gave him was enough to make his stress melt away.
"Hey, J."
Fucking hell. That fucking smile.
"How did we not know this was happening?" He asked, lingering in the doorway, taking all of it in.
"What, us meeting like this?"
"Fucking gotta pay attention to tour schedules, woman." He bounced over. She hopped up. He hugged her and then whispered in her ear. "We're actually here through tomorrow night which means we get to see your set. So you'd better rock it out."
She giggled and he squeezed her even closer. He cursed the stirring in his body and quickly pulled away, hoping it didn't feel too awkward.
"I gotta go do pre-show stuff, but I'll catch you after, okay?"
A kiss to his cheek and she was already dropping back onto the couch. "I know where to find you."
He pressed the lanyard into her hands and then hurried off, trying to make the butterflies in his stomach go away. She smelled so good. That cinnamon perfume that always made him melt.
Backstage, the label guy was talking.
"So we've been talking with Skid Records."
Jared was already six steps ahead. They were putting Falling Starlight on a tour with them. They were gonna tour with Falling Starlight again. They were gonna fucking tour with Elena again. Elena and him on tour together. Tearing it up.
"Skid has them booked into Europe through December," the guy was saying. "But we've been looking for an opener for you guys for the Winter and Spring tour and they seem to be a good fit. They've always done well with you on a bill and we don't have to worry too much about opening egos since they don't have the same pull you guys do yet. And," the guy snorted, "it's fucking Skid."
Jared wanted to slug him. Elena loved working with the guys at Skid and he had to say he really envied the freedom that the other label allowed. They weren't required to do anything they didn't want to do. Their career was in their hands and as a result, they got to set their image, they got to choose how they were portrayed. There wasn't any fight when they wanted to try something different.
"I love it!" Travis was grinning, and focused. Jared zoned back in. "We know them," Travis was saying, "We know we can live with them. We know they're good draws too."
"All right, we'll finalize the paperwork."
"Sweet." Travis popped back over to the mirrors to finish his makeup. Jared swallowed and glanced down at his phone. Elena hadn't texted and there wasn't any reason for her to. But he wanted to text her, to break the news. Instead, the musician in his brain kicked in and his excitement over seeing his best friend had to take a backseat to finishing getting ready for the show. She wasn't going anywhere.
2.
She really hated to use the word "magic" to describe a musical performance. Of course music was magical. But it was so much more than that. It was science mixing with emotion. It was sound waves and the energy of people crashing around the room, driving everything harder and harder, bouncing off of every surface and intensifying until it made her feel like she really could fly.
After the show finally came to its epic closure and the band bounced off stage, Jared caught her up in his arms, squealing. God he felt good and she didn't want him to let go. For the last couple of months, their conversations had been like the energy on stage, building and building, and it felt like tonight they were at the crest of the wave and something had to happen. Something had to change. But did she want to risk telling him that when her fingers slipped between her legs at night that she was thinking of him? Did she want to risk his rejection if she kissed him like she dreamed over and over again she had? Did she want to risk screwing everything up just because he was so sexy on stage and now she could feel his muscles under his shirt and she wanted to slip her hands up under it and trace his chest?
What if he didn't fucking feel the same way?
When he'd texted her and told her he was going to be there in Vegas tonight, she'd actually squeaked. Now she was terrified. Now she just wanted to know what came next.
"It fucking rocked out there," he said, breathlessly.
"Yes you did." She grinned. "Do you guys have post show obligations?"
"Always," laughed. "Come on and hang, I'm starving and there are sandwiches."
"Aren't there always?"
"There might be BLTs and Travis will eat all of them. Come on."
As always, it was impossible to say no to the Jared train when it was moving full speed ahead so she followed him back to the green room, where Travis was embracing fans and Mickey was showing off his dog and Jared was instantly mauled by girls. Elena stepped back, allowing them their spotlight, glad to chill on the couch for a while and watch him work the room. Yes. There were sandwiches. Of course there were sandwiches. They were the staple of every band's rider. She grabbed one and nibbled at the edges, wondering where her bandmates were. Probably the bar. A couple of fans recognized her. She posed with them for some selfies. But really, she was background noise and liked it that way. She liked watching Jared work the room. He was as introverted as she was, but when he was in his element, he really did shine.
Finally, he plopped down next to her and handed over a beer. She smiled, clinked bottles with him, and took a long swig. It was crappy American brew, but it still had a touch of a bite and she sighed contentedly and leaned against him. His arm tightened around her and suddenly she felt his breath against her neck. "They gave us all hotel rooms tonight ..."
Did he sound hopeful?
She didn't want to acknowledge the tingle that shot through her body. For years they'd been fighting crossing the line from best friend to best friend who had seen each other naked.. But lately everything had been weird and everything had felt different and she didn't want to acknowledge the wheres and whys so she just let the weirdness be because fucking hell she wasn't going to ruin her relationship with the one guy who fucking understood her brain.
But he sounded hopeful when he told her about the hotel rooms and his arm was tight around her and suddenly his chin was on her shoulder and his head against hers. "Come upstairs with me, Elena," he whispered. She shivered. It wasn't the first time they'd shared a bed but she wanted it to be more than them just passing out after a show. She wanted him to touch her. She'd worn this short skirt for more reasons than because she looked good in it. Slowly, she molded her body back into his.
"This is the problem with being on an indie label," she teased, trying not to freak out too much. His fingers were moving slowly down her thigh and toying with the hem of her skirt. She glanced around. No one noticed. Or seemed to. What would she do if those fingers moved up the inside of her leg?
"What, they never spring for hotel rooms?" Was his voice breathy?
She laughed, her eyes still on his fingers. "I've accepted my eternal tour bus life. It's comfy." She moaned playfully. He tightened against her. Okay. So she wasn't just dreaming. The air had changed. "A shower. A real shower. With water and everything."
"And towels. And little fancy soaps."
His breath was still in her ear and she knew he could feel the change in the energy as much as she could. His fingers stopped toying with the hem of her skirt and tightened briefly on her thigh. He kissed her cheek and stood up, holding out his hand. She followed more than willingly. Travis was charming some beautiful boy with black hair and waved a giggle as they walked out. On the way to the elevator, Jared linked their hands. Halfway there, he stopped and looked at her.
"What?"
"All my clothes are on the bus and I sure as hell am not staying in these after I shower."
Elena giggled. "Fair."
"Here," he handed over the room key. "You go up. I'll get my stuff from the bus and bang really loudly when I want you to let me in."
She took the key and held it between her fingers, "I don't have clothes either, you realize."
"You smell better." But he looked her up and down and she felt her breath come a bit faster.
She handed the key back. "Let's both go grab our backpacks. Fuck, if I'm showering, I'm getting clean undies."
"More than fair." He pocketed the key and took her hand again. They made their way back through the club, where patrons had mostly filtered out into the casino, and to where the buses were parked. She grabbed her go bag, he did the same, and ten minutes later, she was stretched out on the bed, ordering bad room service (yes, they wanted three orders of fries thank you very much) while he hummed away in the shower. She'd always loved his voice.
She paid for the food - it was better for it to go on her credit card rather than somehow get docked from MDSE's budget - and by the time he emerged, dressed in boxers and a tattered Joan Jett t-shirt, she was three bites of a veggie burger and six fries into the order. He stared at her. She sat up. He joined her on the bed and reached for a fry.
"Do you want to shower?" He asked. But he was staring at her legs and she shook her head.
3.
Logic said "Don't kiss her."
His brain said "Don't kiss her."
Seven years of friendship, heartbreak, and being there for each other during the darkest times in their lives all said "Don't kiss her."
So, he kissed her.
He kissed her and when she didn't pull away, he pushed forward, just a bit, testing waters he wasn't sure he should test but by kissing her he'd already crossed the fucking friendship line so what else could happen? Right?
But she wasn't pulling away. No her hands were working into his hair and she was sliding onto his lap and that skirt was riding higher and higher and he wanted the kiss to go on forever but the logic part of his brain was starting to break through the part that had waited seven years for this moment and when his hands slid up under her skirt and he could feel the heat between her thighs, he shuddered and pulled back.
"Shit, E, I ..."
"Fucking hell, Jared. Don't say you're sorry. Did I say no?"
"That's the thing," he groaned. The kiss had gone right to his cock and it wasn't like boxers hid boners and she was right there on his lap. "I'm not sorry. God I'm not. But I don't know what it fucking means beyond how good it all felt." He stared at her, waiting for her to say something, anything. Waiting for her to tell him that they needed to stop because he really wanted to keep going and he wasn't sure what that all meant for either of them and they needed to talk and he knew that, so when she reached over to the nearby plate and popped a fry into his mouth, he chuckled.
"What do you want it to mean, Jared?"
Fuck. Of course she'd do that to him. She'd start him off on it. She'd make it all fucking ... she was the smart one really.
"I don't know, E."
She sighed. "That's what scares me."
"What do you want it to mean?" He asked, risking a touch to her arm. Her scars were hidden under fishnets tonight.
"I don't know," she hedged But she was shifting on his lap and fuck, he could smell her arousal. Fuck. She wanted this as much as he did.
"Why not?"
She leaned back a bit, he wound his arms around her hips to keep her from falling back. "Because I love our friendship, J. I mean are you kidding? Fuck." Her eyes were glistening. "I fucking love you in so many ways but if we change ourselves .... our relationship ... what does that mean? What if we break up? I'm not kidding when I say that I don't know what I'd do if you weren't in my life."
"I don't either," he said. And he meant it because she was his girl, always. But he wanted to kiss her again. He wanted to feel her under him again. He wanted ... he wanted what this had been building to since that first conversation when she'd really been too young for him and he was just so happy to find someone who understood him.
He also wanted to eat and watch dumb movies and it didn't fucking make any sense in his brain.
But wasn't that what a relationship really was?
Her eyes were still locked with his and he fucking jumped. His hand moved back down her thigh and up again, this time not stopping until he toyed with the edge of her panties. She bit her lip and nodded, barely, granting him leave to slip his fingers under the cloth and between her folds. She was wet.
Despite knowing how funny and awkward sex could be, when he fantasized about sex with Elena, it was always romantic movie caliber. Their clothes would magically fall away and they'd be naked together in a breath, gasping and moaning as they flew toward a simultaneous conclusion. Instead, because she wasn't balanced with both his hands anymore, she fell backward off his lap. The fries on the plate near them spilled onto the bed. Elena giggled but his laughter was forgotten; her nipples were poking through her tank top and her skirt was now around her waist, revealing black cotton panties. He groaned and leaned over her, kicking fries out of his way. His fingers moved up across the smooth expanse of her stomach, under her shirt. He could feel the muscles underneath the skin as they jumped and twitched - she was ticklish. Up further, impeded only slightly by fabric, until he brushed the underside of her breasts. She shivered and the goosebumps crossed down his skin, heightening his response, and as she arched back into him, he grew bolder, stroking the soft flesh until she let out a sigh that coursed through him. Slowly, his hand moved to cup her breast and he rolled her taught nipple between his fingers until she was squirming.
The food was forgotten.
Elena sat up and he tugged her shirt up and over her head and it only got a little bit tangled in her hair before he pushed her back down into the pile of pillows around them. There was too much to touch, so many places he wanted to taste because he was sure, absolutefuckinglutely sure that this was a dream and he was going to wake with soaking sheets and his pillow stuffed in his mouth and his bandmates ready to tease him.
But no, her fingers were curling in his hair and the salt on her neck tasted hella real. Unable to stand it, knowing if he thought too much he might stop and then it would be even ore awkward later, he pulled back and shucked his own shirt - which ended up on top of a veggie burger - and despite how much he wanted to slowly remove those black panties and watch her open for him, he more wanted to get her naked and bury himself inside of her. Only as she arched her hips, helping him remove both the skirt and the panties at the same time did he realize she'd already removed her boots. Oh thank god for small favors.
Her small, strong hands were pushing his boxers down and he had to kick a bit getting them off but fucking hell they were both naked. "Do I need anything?" He asked as he leaned over her, his hand tracing her body. Her legs were parted and he watched as she took his fingers in hers and guided them between her legs. Shit. She'd thought about this too. She knew what she wanted him to go.
He almost came.
Instead he slipped a finger into her body and watched her hips arch and flex and he added a second finger, pushing his thumb against her clit. Her hand held onto his and it was the sexiest fucking thing he'd ever seen.
"I'm on the pill ..." she moaned as he worked her. "I trust you ..."
He was clean. He knew that much. Got tested before every tour and hadn't seen so much as a flashed boob recently.
Her skin shimmered just a bit, a sheen of sweat breaking out across her chest as she came closer and closer to the edge. Slowing his fingers, he pulled both of their hands free and chuckled at the look she threw him but he pulled her close. "Come here," he urged. She sat up and straddled him, reaching down to take his cock in her hand and guide it into her body. They both groaned as she settled onto his hips.
It didn't last long. He was too fucking excited and anxious. But once they were joined he moved his fingers back to her clit and stroked her while she rode him and even though he came first, she gasped his name when she was done and collapsed back on top of him, trembling.
"Fuck ..." she whispered. And even though he agreed with the sentiment, he was also terrified that she was already regretting this. Her shoulders were shaking and she was clutching the pillow next to his head. "Fuck, J. We ...Fuck."
Fuck. He wasn't about to let her do this to herself. "Don't." He kissed the side of her head. Fuck. She was regretting it. Now what? "Don't overthink it right now. Please."
And then she giggled and pulled back and despite the light in her eyes, there was a dangerous look. She was terrified they'd just screwed everything up. "This is me."
"Yeah, well. It was worth a shot." He stroked her breast, hoping she'd let him touch her again. And again. And again. She didn't pull away. He grew bolder. "Don't leave. I really didn't mean to get you naked. I don't mind but it wasn't planned. E ... don't leave."
"I'm not." Finally she pulled away and slipped off the bed, which belied her words, but she came back after a minute with a towel and a damp wash cloth. Stretching out next to him, she ran the cloth over his chest and down around him, stroking slowly. "I'm not going anywhere," she whispered. "I'm fucking terrified that we just screwed everything up but if we screwed everything up, I'm going to enjoy it tonight."
He let out a very relieved breath. "I was thinking the same thing."
"Good."
He took the cloth from her and tossed it away. He rolled them, pinning her. "I'm taking my time this time," he said as he kissed her collarbone and made his way down her body with his mouth. When he reached the juncture between her thighs, he took his time, kissing and sucking and rolling her already sensitized clit in his teeth. This time when she came, she dug her nails into his shoulder and screamed his name.
4.
Somewhere, something was buzzing. Elena groaned and reached down for her bag, hunting through it with one hand. Finally she found her phone and pulled it to her face, staring into the blinking screen. We're going to breakfast at the buffet. If you want to join us. Even in her half-awake state she could sense JJ's snickering. Yeah, everyone would know what had happened. She wondered if she cared. She was too tired to care. Too sore. Too happy. Fuck, she was happy. That was a first.
Groaning, she unwound herself from the sheets and took a look around the room. The room service tray was upended and she felt back for the housekeeping staff. Clothes were down on the side of the bed and she reached down and picked up Jared's t-shirt, tugging it over her head. Next to her, Jared was starting to stir and she watched him stretch and groan, a waking up ritual she'd seen countless times. But it felt different this time. Of course it was different. Her fingers reached over and traced his arm and she shivered and dove back under the blankets next to him. He cuddled her close and she closed her eyes, trying to make sense of it.
"You're overthinking again," he said. She laughed. He was right. "Stop," he murmured.
"Can't help it."
"Why?" He cuddled even closer and kissed her shoulder and she sighed. His morning erection was poking at her. "Wait, because you're leaving after your show tonight and I'm heading out in the morning and we probably won't see each other until oh, January, because of schedules and because you're my best friend and I'm yours and we just crossed that really icky line between seeing each other naked and having sex?"
"Icky?" She asked.
"I know your brain. That is what it is saying."
"Shut up," she said. But she swatted him. He was right.
He giggled and then slid his arm over her stomach. "Hey," he whispered, "listen."
"What?" She really was starting to freak out.
"We'll figure it out and if it means we just need to take a breath, then we take a breath, okay."
"Figure what out, Jared?" Maybe she wanted him to say it. Maybe she wanted him to just say he wanted to be with her and that last night had been more than just their tired, stressed out, overly charged hormones. She wanted him to say it because she wanted him to be the brave one. She wasn't brave.
"Whatever this is." He kissed her again. "I was up after you passed out. Overthinking."
That made her laugh. "Oh?"
"Yeah, and here's what I think. I think we won't see each other for a while and so the distance will be good for us because we can just talk. And if we want to try our hand at a relationship, we try our hand at a relationship otherwise we just ride this out and yeah, it'll be weird for a while, but you're my best friend, E. What happened last night - and maybe today - isn't changing a fucking thing."
She sighed and curled up even closer to him. "You're hoping for a lot there, buddy."
"Yeah, well, last night was more than I ever expected." His hands were tracing her skin.
"You think we'll be okay?"
"You're my best friend. You're in my head. I'm not going anywhere, E."
"Not even to breakfast?"
He chuckled at that. "You're hungry, hmm?"
"Well ... we did kind of forget dinner last night and I have a show today. Gotta eat something substantial," she said. But the hungry look in his eyes made her want to stay right in bed.
The knock on the door from housekeeping made them both jump. And then laugh. She giggled. "Clearly you didn't plan this or you'd have put the do not disturb on the door."
"Fuck," he groaned.
Elena jumped off the bed and hurried to the door. "Can you give us a few minutes?" She asked as the woman's head poked into the room. "Vuelve en veinte minutos, por favor?"
"Si," the woman responded. Elena closed the door and leaned against it and then just grinned at Jared. "Come on. We've got twenty minutes and the boys are downstairs having breakfast and I know by now they've hooked up with your boys and that could be bad for us."
"They're gonna know ..."
She smiled and decided to be brave. "Yeah, but it's okay."
"You sure?"
"Yeah." She groaned. "Come on. I'm rinsing off. I smell like you."
He snickered and rolled off the bed. "Well, I smell like you. So."
5.
They arrived down at the buffet with hair still wet and fingers entwined and Jared had never been happier. At least until Chris grabbed Elena and dragged her a little ways off and he could hear the usual tour manager spiel coming from him, but knew the "we needed to know where you were" had nothing to do with worry for a band member because it was clear that JJ and Micah had been able to do simple math and that Chris was an ass. Elena was starting to cower. Unsure what his role was though, Jared just stayed close by, keeping an eye on things. He wasn't sure when was appropriate for him to jump in and punch Chris.
Travis was smirking. Mickey was flat out grinning. Yeah, Jared realized. Everyone knew. Everyone knew, but no one said anything and Jared appreciated that. Not for himself because he kind of wanted to leap from the rooftops and scream about how amazing it was that he and Elena had finally done what he'd been dreaming of for years, but for Elena, who looked anxious and nervous, especially around Chris who, Jared realized quickly, was far too possessive for any logical human being.
Elena's "I'm going to go eat," was accompanied by an epic roll of the eyes and pulling away and when Chris grabbed her arm again, Jared stepped in and slipped an arm around her waist, leveling Chris with a glare.
"Come on. The guys are waiting," he said.
"Thank you," she murmured close enough for only him to hear and Jared shivered at the tone. This douche seriously needed to get gone. No wonder Elena was freaking out.
He wanted to say something cheesy and cute about how it was now his duty or something, but they weren't sure what was going to happen with what had happened last night so he didn't push it. Instead, he paid for her breakfast since she'd paid for dinner and made sure she sat next to him. It took about two minutes for any residual weirdness to fade away as the musicians started exchanging stories and bitching about bunk size.
Nothing was going to change, he realized, not unless they wanted to make this even better and it really could fucking be amazing. He just had to make sure that Elena realized it and knowing her, scenes like the one Chris just pulled were going to make her pull away.
6.
She'd felt him there all show. He'd been standing there when she changed out basses. He'd grinned during her solos. And he was standing there when she came off stage, dripping sweat and pulsing energy. Her tech took her bass and she turned to Jared and when he grabbed her around the waist, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Hard. Fucking hell that felt good and right. That. Right there. She'd spent the day psyching herself out and now when the moment came, it felt like it was something they'd always been doing and she wanted to do more of what they'd done last night and shitballs. Her brain was a fucking mess. But she was hot and turned on and part of her wanted him to push her into the green room and have his way with her against the door.
"What time is bus call?" He asked. It sounded more like a groan and she understood.
"Four."
"Good." He pulled her even tighter against him. "How long are you at the merch tables?"
"If you let me go," she teased, "I'll be done faster."
Instantly, he dropped his arms and pushed her away. "Run!"
She giggled and grabbed the towel that was handed to her, draping it around her shoulders as she walked. Jared followed, linking their fingers. She squeezed and then stepped away where the world crew ambassadors were waiting along with their merch guy, the tables ready for them to sign while merch was bought. It was a well oiled machine that had been running since their early days back in Brooklyn. No one tried to jump the line. Everyone knew they'd get their turn and they did. Even with the clock ticking in the back of her mind, Elena didn't scrimp on any time with any of the fans. But as things started to die down, she saw Jared slip away and she panicked until she saw him coming back, drinks for all of them in hand. He slipped behind the table and everyone took a drink.
"You rock, J." Elena said as she set her sharpie down.
It was one AM. She was trying not to count the hours but she didn't want to leave until she'd had time alone with him again, to kiss him, to touch him, to promise him that she just needed time to think.
Forget that this was the best she'd felt in years.
A fan came up, shyly asking for an autograph. They all signed her newly bought shirt and posed for pictures. For a moment, Elena's libido was forgotten. None of their fans ever left feeling ignored and she wasn't about to start now.
When things were officially done, they helped to pack the boxes and turned things back to the crew.
Two AM.
Jared grabbed her hand and she followed and thank god the elevator was empty because he pushed her back against the wall and her leg went up over his hip while he kissed her. At their floor, they stumbled to his room and she tore his shirt getting it over his head and her skirt stayed on as he bent her over the arm of the couch and sank into her.
God, why was she so fucking scared of feeling this fucking good?
The second time it was on the bed, her face buried in the pillow as she bit it to muffle her screams. Her boots were still on. Her tank top pushed up over her breasts. He bit her shoulder as he came.
"Please." He sighed and pulled her onto his lap after she took advantage of his shower. "God, E ... what next?"
She checked the time "I'm late for bus call."
"But ..."
"I know." She cuddled close and rested her head in the crook of his neck. "J, I don't know and I'm so scared because you're my best friend and ... I need to go over think this, okay? I need to go be crazy for a little while about it. Because this all felt so perfect and perfect scares the fuck out of me because you know how I feel about perfect."
"Okay." He kissed her softly and she could tell he was disappointed. They were both going to be miserable until she talked the anxiety bunny in her head back from the ledge. "Just don't pull away," he whispered. "I'll give you all the time you need to figure shit out, but talk to me. Fuck. Please. Talk to me."
"I will." She stared at him. "You're still my best friend, right?"
"Forever and a day."
This time the kiss was softer but he held it longer, and she embraced every scent and touch and taste. But her phone was buzzing so she pulled away and ruffled his hair before grabbing her backpack and answering. "Yeah," she said, waving as she walked out of the hotel room, "I'll be there in five."
When the door closed behind her, she took a minute and leaned against it, willing herself to not cry. But she was in his t-shirt and everything smelled like him and she could still feel him inside of her and she wanted nothing more than to go back inside and kiss him and tell him the truth.
She loved him.
But love was a scary word and she just didn't know what it all meant. Not when love meant her best friend and risking everything to be with him.
So she pulled herself together and headed back toward the bus.