Nobody Else Calls Me Fel

The relief was huge. For days, she walked around in a daze like someone who'd narrowly avoided ruin only by happenstance. She'd made a bad judgement. But she was okay. She wasn't hurt. She was whole. She could already feel that she was going to be okay.

She must have been okay, to have gotten herself through the next few days packing up and going back home. Trying to convince herself it didn't feel like fleeing, like escaping. Everything still held together. Her life was the same place, a safe place to come back to.

Still, it felt to Felicity as if she had been struck hard in the shoulder and spun around. Winded, and disoriented. Her heart hurt, a little. She just needed some time. Back to square one.

After seeing Jack that night, Fel wanted to think about him, and she still thought about what had happened with Brady. But at least now she'd talked to someone about it. And sure, talking about your problems is supposed to help. She just wasn't sure she had quite believed it until now.

Then, something crazy had happened, and now she had no idea what was going to happen next at all. It was a good feeling to fall asleep to, looking forward instead of back.

****************************************

Jack did call the next day, but he text her first, asking if it was a good time to call. Just those words.

Good time to call?

Since she had been staring at her phone all morning, she replied that yes, she guessed it was okay.

She still almost panicked when the phone actually rang and although she managed to answer, for a pretty tough moment, didn't think she could say anything. And then Jack spoke first.

"Hey you."

"Hey yourself." The words came easily, and Felicity suddenly felt herself smiling, completely out of her own control.

"So...." Jack's voice sounded close, on the phone, and different to how he normally sounded. Fel didn't think she'd ever actually spoken to him on the phone before. The thought raced through her scattered mind, even as she listened to his words. "What I said yesterday. Was that just a stupid idea and a terrible thing to say to you?"

"No." She might be scattered, but she at least knew the answer to this question. "Definitely not stupid. Not terrible."

"Is it still a yes, then?"

Felicity let her heart rise. When she answered, she was amazed at how happy she sounded. "Yes. Don't make me say it again."

"So..." He said again. She had never heard him sound so unsure. "Should we, like... go on a date, or something?"

Felicity heaved a dramatic sigh of reluctance down the phone, and heard Jack laugh. "Yeah I fucking hate dating." He said.

"Can't I just, you know, come hang out?" She asked. "Wait, where are you even staying?"

"Motel, on the way out of town near the highway. Honestly, Babe, it's not exactly the stuff dreams are made of but it has four walls and a bed."

Her heartbeat quickened at the thought of falling into bed with Jack. His dismay and his understanding when she had mentioned what had happened, despite not knowing the details. His instinct to make it better for her, nonetheless. Years of thinking about him. Was all of that actually going to be real?

"Let's do that, then." She swallowed, tightening her grip on the phone. Gathering her courage. "And... can we make it soon?"

Jack gave a small laugh that sounded almost disbelieving. "Tonight? I'll pick you up at six, we'll grab a pizza?"

Felicity felt herself smiling hopelessly. "I guess that'll be soon enough."

****************************************

The best thing and the worst thing about Jack's visits home were his stories. Felicity loved to hear them and found them infuriatingly alluring, and drank them in, knowing that they were true in a way that she didn't know how to understand yet.

Once, last year, last summer, they had sat out on the back deck with Sam most of the night watching the sky. Jack had told the two of them about how earlier in the summer he had picked up a girl in Seattle, and driven clear down the length of the coast with her because she wanted to make love in the desert at night. As if that was actually a serious reason to do anything.

So Jack had taken her. And fulfilled the making love condition as well, of course. Felicity didn't really believe that anyone but Jack could make a story like that sound credible. He was driving a pickup then, and they had spent a week driving around Anza-Borrego, sleeping in the bed of the truck each night.

"Somebody's been listening to too many Eagles songs," Felicity had said to the stars, before she could stop herself.

Jack had just grinned, and winked at her. "Right?"

Whatever the girl's inspiration, it sounded like she had gotten what she'd asked for, and then some.

He had told Felicity and Sam about the adventure, feet kicked up on the table, eyes closed, a smile on his lips. She remembered that she had been faint with envy and longing. For that kind of freedom, for the kind of romance that his stories always made her feel. For what those girls had, who had managed to get close to him. To know what would that be like, a week of nights under the stars with Jack.

She wouldn't have spent another night with Brady for anything, bribe or blackmail. Not for desert sunsets and a thousand stars. Jack must be doing something right, to keep that girl interested for a week alone in an old pickup truck. Felicity had spent more than a few long daydreams since the night Jack had told that story, imagining what that could be.

****************************************

Felicity frowned at herself one last time in the mirror before she went out to wait on the front porch. All these freckles. They basically made it impossible for her to wear much foundation, not unless she went to the effort of completely covering them up. No point doing that for Jack, and anyway, he knew what she looked like. It felt faintly ridiculous, the idea of putting on a full face of makeup to see Jack. Had known her since she was a kid who didn't even own makeup.

She found herself smiling at her reflection, for once feeling unconcerned how her makeup looked, or how her hair was falling. She didn't think any of that was going to matter, not with Jack. She was more conscious of her skin scrubbed clean and soft all over, her legs shaved, the sleek close-fitting underwear she had chosen. More conscious and aware of herself, the feel of her own body, her breathing and her heart beating like it was trying to get her attention.

Going out to sit on the porch and wait for him felt like a leap of faith that she had been ready to take for years, if it worked out. If it didn't, she knew she was going to curse herself for breaking her own heart twice over and learning absolutely nothing about getting her hopes up too high.

If she was going to get her heart broken, might as well go all in.

Jack had always driven around in old, junked-out cars that looked and sounded a week away from the scrapyard. It was a sort of mini-challenge with him; how dead on it's wheels is his current mode of transportation going to be?

When he arrived to pick her up, this car didn't disappoint.

She knew he picked up the old cars for basically nothing, generally when they'd already stopped running, and the owner had simply given them up for dead. Jack usually managed to get them back on the road. Unbelievably, one or two of them seemed to have hung on for years.

This one, a battered old Jeep, probably didn't have that long left in it. Not judging by the coughing, spluttering engine. She just hoped it would get them where they needed to go.

Jack grinned at her so happily when she climbed in beside him on the tattered leather seat that Felicity had to laugh and roll her eyes at him.

"I can't believe this piece of shit actually runs." She said, by way of a greeting.

"Hey, don't talk about her like that." Jack patted the side of the Jeep out of his open window. "Took me a week to get her back on her feet. She's giving me her golden years."

Fel doubtfully eyed the dashboard full of red and amber warning lights. A couple of them were flickering on and off in a distressing way. "Sure she's got it in her to get us to your motel?" It sounded forward, like she didn't care what happened after that. Well, maybe that was exactly what she meant.

Jack answered, his eyes on the mirrors, as he pulled the car back onto the road. "She's got my back. She'll behave herself for you."

Felicity shook her head a little, looking out of the window to hide her smile from Jack.

The Jeep actually didn't drive too badly, once it was on the road. It had a stick-shift that almost looked jury-rigged, a mechanical nightmare that Jack handled with ease. Personally, Fel wouldn't have touched it for fear that the whole thing would fall apart. For her, it probably would.

Jack had a way with his cars. Felicity had tried to move one of them once, when he was blocking her own car in the garage. It had been some old Chevy, with an ostentatiously long hood and a terrible paint job. She hadn't even been able to get it to start, only to make dismal metallic retching noises.

Jack had come running out of the house just at the noise the car was making, showered her with affectionate disparagements, and moved the car himself. For him, it started up gentle as a lamb. He just had a way with cars. It was just how he was.

****************************************

The motel room was indeed little more than four walls and a bed, although it did at least have a bathroom. And it had a TV playing nonsense quietly in the corner, and it had Jack. And they had picked up a pizza, and Jack had bourbon and a bottle of coke already in the tiny fridge.

Fel couldn't have wished for a better date. Had never actually liked the idea of dating, until this. All the whimsical thoughts of desert skies and coastal road-trips were easy to forget; she didn't think it had really been about the place. More the idea of him, and here he was. This was actually real.

They sat cross-legged on the bed like kids, drinking from plastic tumblers swiped from the bathroom. Ignoring the TV and talking about the summer, and everything that they had both done since they had seen each other last back in the spring. Steering clear of the subject of Felicity's encounter with Brady, though. Sticking to safe topics. She didn't know how he knew not to ask, but when he met her eyes, she felt as though he knew what she was avoiding talking about. That he was abiding by some restriction that she had never actually spoken.

Sitting close to share the food, eating with their hands. When they started drinking, Felicity could tell that Jack was keeping a careful eye on how much she had and only splashed a little of the bourbon into her glass. She didn't mind that at all, the taste was rich and sweet and it helped her breathe a little deeper. She definitely did not want to be drunk.

Jack was eating faster than her and when he tried to grab the last slice of pizza, Fel snatched it playfully out from under his fingers and he leaned in and kissed her.

It came out of nowhere and felt like it had been forever coming. Took her completely by surprise, and was everything she had been waiting for. His hand sliding around behind her ear into a soft, irresistible hold. His mouth was warm and tasted the same as hers, tasted of the food and the bourbon and a hunger than food and drink couldn't satisfy.

In an instant, she was utterly lost in the kiss, dropping the pizza and clutching Jacks t-shirt so that he enthusiastically climbed over the box between them to get closer to her. Food forgotten, everything forgotten, his hands slipping around her and he was touching her neck and her waist and kissing her deeper.

She landed on her back on the bed.

She didn't know if Jack had wanted to kiss her for a long time before this, or if he had just gotten caught up in the moment. Doing what came naturally. She had been wondering if she would have the courage to ask him about what he had said to her on the porch; Someone who's crazy about you. From the moment that he touched her, she didn't want to ask him anything. She honestly didn't care.

She landed on her back on the bed.

Felicity had been feeling conflicted and disappointed and furious with herself for weeks. Feeling as though she had taken a leap of faith, and brought herself to grief. Done it to herself. Decided she didn't need to wait to fall in love to start having sex, that she was old and wise enough to trust her own judgement, and then fucked it all up on the first try. It had been draining her, feeling that way.

Jack closed the space between them, his kiss sank into her bones, and fierce exultation rose up to meet it. Weeks of criticising herself, doubting herself, caught fire and turned to ash in the space of a second, and blew away.

She landed on her back on the bed.

Jack followed her down as closely as if she'd had her arms wrapped around him, seizing both her hands at her sides and gripping tight as he held his weight off her by the slimmest of margins. Kissed her like nothing she had ever felt before, letting her drag her hands from his grasp and clutch him around the neck, clutch his hair between her fingers. Letting everything cascade.

They swept the glasses and bottles and pizza box off the bed and took advantage of all of it. Rolling, stretching out, and gradually their clothes joined all the other clutter on the floor. Jack let her set the pace and yet somehow he guided them both forward. He let her touch, let her explore everything, but when her stroking became too vigorous he would divert her hands and distract her. She had never felt so eager to wrap her hands around anything, and he kept drawing her away. Kissing her fingers, her palms, biting gently into the mount of Venus below her thumb. Clasping both hands over her head, then grinding the length of himself against her thigh just to increase her desperation.

"Don't rush me," He breathed into her ear, as he caught her hands away once again. "You have no idea how good that feels. So don't rush, or you'll have me over the edge."

She could have lived with that. But she let him slow things down, whenever she started getting carried away. Let him keep teasing, here, there, but skimming around certain places until she was sure was doing it deliberately. Always bringing his hands back to touch her face and her neck as if they were an extension of his kiss. As if the kiss was an extension of his desire to touch her.

He did touch her where she wanted it the most, but he dragged it out. Took it so slow that she wanted to scream. Pulled the sheets up over both of them and took his time running his hands all over her, exploring and indulging until he finally took pity on her and dropped down on one elbow beside her, his free hand finding its welcome way between her legs.

She hadn't known what she expected. She wasn't new to this by any means, but Jack was making everything feel so different. When he touched against her labia, it kept on being spellbindingly different from anything she had ever felt before. Fingers tracing their way around her folds and contours so softly that her head started to spin. Feeling her out. Gathering her wetness from within, and spreading it all over her to keep his fingers sliding smooth. Sliding everywhere.

Before, it had always been sort of binary. Two places to focus. Boys always went straight for one or the other, never really taking the time for the bigger picture. Now that Jack was touching her... she was going mad with pleasure at every place he touched, everywhere was incredible, and everything was connected.

"Has anyone ever made you come like this, before?" Jack was settled low beside her, his chin on her shoulder. He tilted his head up to look into her face, talking softly, deeply. He looked completely relaxed, while she was gripping her own hair in one hand and shuddering with tension.

She managed to shake her head. "Not like this. I've never been able to with someone else -" She gasped, and whined, and bucked under Jack's touch as his fingers rolled knowingly over the hard bud of her clitoris and circled back around to lingering along the invisible boundary between thigh and vulva. "Nothing like this." she managed to say. She was losing the memory of how to find words.

He smiled at her reaction, letting his gaze slide away from hers to drop his mouth down onto her neck. Kissing in deep drawing bites, but holding back from leaving her bruised. She could feel the way that he was holding back, feel that he knew how much pressure he could use without marking her.

Felicity had never been able to relax into letting someone, anyone, kiss and bite her neck. As much as she loved it. She always been too aware of being left with embarrassing lovebites, getting in trouble with her parents and teased at school. For some reason, stupid shit like that used to matter to her. It was hard to imagine now. She wouldn't have cared now if she was bruised all over when this was done, even as she was distantly aware that Jack wasn't going to let anything like that happen.

Still, he was on her neck with an intensity that made her groan, suddenly focused and intense. His hand pulling away from between her legs and delving into her hair as if he couldn't resist. His fingers were wet from touching her, getting her own sticky scent in her hair, and she didn't care at all. His thumb stroking one ear while he licked and nibbled at the other. He was overwhelming, consuming, but she felt utterly safe letting herself slip into his grasp. Subside into this pleasure without worrying he was going to leave bruises on her neck like a stupid boy. She could feel that he wasn't. And she could feel him, sounding out her every response as she made small sounds of pleasure. So aware of her. It was completely new and phenomenal.

"You have been so wasted," he murmured in her ear, as he stroked her lips with the fingers of one hand and she whimpered helplessly in response. "You are so gorgeous."

Fel wasn't sure if he was putting it on a little, trying to make her feel good about herself. She realised that if he was, she didn't mind.

It all felt more than real enough, as Jack lifted up to cover her mouth with his again and sink down into a deep, lustful kiss. His hand slid away down her body in a lazy caress until he was working back between her legs. Stroking a finger through the cleavage of flesh down there, humming a satisfied sound into her mouth as he felt the wetness still eagerly awaiting him. And then back up to lay his slippery fingers on her pubic bone and slide right into the hollow where her clitoris nestled.

Fel jerked and cried out as he touched her there again, this time not a grazing contact but a meaningful stroking. Purposeful. Working his fingers into a rhythm and matching her gasping cries, the shuddering of her pelvis under his hand. Under his guidance, she fell fast.

By the time Jack made her come for the first time, Felicity was half wrapped around him and clinging to him for dear life. Curled tight, and clutching at him. Her breath rasping hard into his hair, holding onto him with her legs and grinding against his hand as he adjusted her to keep his fingers where they needed to be.

And she did really, really need them to be there. He rolled the sensitive sweet spot under his fingertips until she couldn't breathe with the tension, so much more intense than when she touched herself, so much more of everything. Her whole body and soul, so much braver than she had ever been as she rose against him. The orgasm, when it came, a completely different animal.

She began to shudder uncontrollably and she was aware that she was whimpering, moaning tight noises against his neck. Clenching her teeth to force herself to keep from biting him, although it was a close thing. Gripping his shoulders hard in trembling hands, struggling to breathe as the intensity of the pleasure peaked and became blinding. And then exploded. Radiating out from between her legs, shaking her whole body, twisting her and lighting her up. Her voice rapidly rising to a shriek and then becoming inaudible, her throat catching and seizing as the climax pounded through her.