Not-Valentine's Day

She'd been in California for over six months, and we'd stayed in touch like we used to, texting almost every day and getting together a couple of times a week. It was video chat rather than in person, but we still got together. We talked about almost everything: our day, who we hung out with, what we'd done, the fact her parents had gotten a dog, and she gave me no end of shit the whole time, just like we always had. We had fun, we missed each other, and we signed off each call by touching the screen, which was dumb and it sucked because it wasn't the real thing. Over time the ache didn't fade, but the worry at what we weren't talking about faded a little.

Now she was on her way back, though. She'd left that morning, was staying in a hotel tonight, and tomorrow she'd be back in town. Now what we hadn't talked about was all I could think about.

My phone vibrated again and I grabbed it up without checking the screen. "Hello?"

"Hey, Steve."

My heart slammed back up into my throat and I smiled like a complete idiot.

"Hey Mona," I responded, trying not to sound as excited as I felt, "how far north are you? Did you make it to Redding?"

"Um, not exactly," she said, sounding a little weird.

Huh. "Not exactly?"

"So, um, I kind of lied about when I was leaving."

"What?" Why would she do that?

Someone knocked on my apartment door and I glanced up.

"Answer your door," Mona said.

"How did you hear that?" I asked, staring at the door. In my defense there were a lot of emotions going on at the time.

"Just open it!"

"Wha-"

Mona sighed, loudly and dramatically. "It's me, genius! I'm at your door! Way to ruin the surprise."

"You're HERE?" I asked, continuing to stare.

I heard keys in my lock, and an exasperated "oh my god, I'll do it myself!" that came from both my phone and the hallway.

Right. Mona had keys to my place. I probably should have gotten those back before she moved a thousand miles away.

Then she was in my doorway. Then she was in my apartment. Then she crashed into me so hard I almost fell over and we wrapped our arms around each other as Mona buried her face in my chest with a delighted squeal.

"Hey, Mona," I said, because that's about all I could come up with.

"Hey, Steve," she responded into my shirt, "been a while."

"I saw you two nights ago."

She shook her head, disagreeing with me but not elaborating. In my defense, again, a lot had happened in the last thirty seconds.

"I missed you," I corrected myself, "a lot." She was warm, and soft, and smelled amazing and felt amazing and my heart was pounding hard enough I'm sure she could feel it through her cheek.

Mona shifted a little in my arms, standing up straighter so she could look up into my face. Her smile was huge and her eyes were a little wet. "I missed you too."

She was there, and comfortable, and amazing, and smiling at me, and... you know what? Fuck it.

I kissed her.

Mona jumped slightly when our lips met, turning suddenly rigid. It was just a quick peck and I pulled back when I felt her reaction. She was staring up at me, or at least in my direction, eyes wide and her mouth slightly open.

"Oh," she said. That's it, just oh.

Shit I just fucked this up.

"Um," I started.

"Do that again," she said.

Oh. Um, never mind. I kissed her again.

This time she returned it, just a quick peck, like mine. Then she leaned up to kiss me again, and this one was longer. Then I leaned down to kiss her again, and this one was a lot longer as she melted against my body, arms starting to slide up my back and into my hair. The one after that... just kind of kept going.

At some point we had to break for air. When I did, a wave of dizziness hit me and I stumbled back a little, catching myself against the wall and Mona's arms.

"You okay?" she asked, grinning like an idiot.

"Lightheaded," I responded.

She purred at that and smiled up at me. "Maybe we'd better sit down before you fall down."

"I have a couch?"

"Is it a good couch?"

I debated that for a second, but eventually had to go with "no."

"You have a bed, too," she said, quietly, with a suddenly nervous expression on her face.

"I have a bed," I admitted, because I'm a moron.

"We could... make out in it?" Mona recommended.

"Take off your shoes," I told her, because I was still a moron, a moron who was avoiding thinking about how we should really talk about this.

"You and your fucking carpet," she muttered, disentangling herself from me. "What kind of civilized person doesn't wear shoes around the house?" She did kick them off, though, flinging them behind her to thump off the door..

"What kind of civilized person does?" I responded, reaching out with my hand. She took it, giggling, and I led Mona the few steps towards my bedroom. I flicked the light on as I went past, then felt small, strong hands on my back before Mona shoved me forward. I tripped on the bed and fell face-down on the mattress. Then, with a whoop and a laugh, I felt Mona crash down beside me.

"Does it meet your approval?" I asked.

"It'll do," she responded, "now where were we?"

"Kissing," I said, sliding my fingers into her hair and pulling her mouth to mine. Mona met me with wet, hungry lips and very, very appreciative noises. Our bodies slid together on the bed, closer and closer, until everything that could be touching was and I could still feel Mona pressing to get even closer as her tongue slid between my lips. My body tingled everywhere, and as I ran one hand over her back Mona writhed delightfully against me.

After I don't know how long we broke away again, Mona pushing me back off of her (when had I climbed on top?) and pulling in a deep breath. I sat back on my heels, breathing hard myself, so excited my hands were shaking. Mona was disheveled, red-faced, and wet-lipped in my bed and she looked really, really, really good that way. Parts of me were starting to get other ideas of what I could do with Mona looking really, really good in my bed, and a little voice told me this was moving awfully fast. I told it to shut the fuck up.

"Done already?" I teased.

"Fuck you just let me catch my breath," she said, spreading her arms out on the bed. "It's too fucking hot in here."

"You're the one all bundled up," I told her. Mona was dressed the way Mona usually dressed: jeans and a hoodie, the latter slightly too big on her. Of course she was hot. Hey, wait a second...

"It's cold out there," she responded, "and someone jumped me at the door."

"Is that my hoodie?"

She grinned at me. "Yup."

"Can I have it back?"

She started to answer, then paused. The grin transformed into something much more mischievous. "You want it back? Sure. Come and get it."

The little voice was back again, telling me we should really talk about this. I ignored it and stepped off the bed, coming around to Mona's side. She smiled up at me, but her expression was growing nervous and just for a moment her hands moved to block me. Then they changed direction, reaching up into the sky as she sat up, feet dropping to the floor.

"What are you waiting for?" my something-way-more-than-a-best-friend asked. "You want your shirt back or not?"

I put my hands on her waist and Mona's breath caught, then released in a whimper as I slid them under her shirt. Her skin was bare underneath. She had nothing on under my hoodie. Fuck, that was... fuck. I curled my fingers into the fabric and lifted, pulling my sweatshirt cleanly up her body, up her arms, and over her head before tossing it away, leaving her in just a simple blue bra.

Mona's hands were on my chest as I finished, sliding down to where my shirt tucked into my jeans and tugging it up. Her hands lingered for far longer than they needed to, taking their time pulling at my shirt before diving beneath and tracing over my skin. Parts of me were very acutely aware of exactly how close those hands were. As her fingers wandered my eyes wandered too, across her nearly bare shoulders (yup, her shoulders still really did it for me), down her collarbone, and into the dark valley of cleavage below. I could drown in that cleavage.

Then she was rising to her feet, breaking my view as she pulled my shirt over my head. When it was done she tossed it away just like I had, then flopped back on the bed as things jiggled delightfully. She had one knee raised and stuck the other foot out towards me.

"I'm still pretty hot," she said.

"Huh?"

The mischievous, nervous look was back. She set her foot against my leg. "Are you going to stop there?"

Yes, said the voice. Talk about this. No, said the rest of me, fuck you. I grabbed Mona by the calves and she laughed, her fingers going to work on the button of her jeans as mine moved to her ankles. She finished with the button and I pulled her jeans down. Mona came with them for a foot or so, laughing as she tugged her way back up the bed. Then I had her pants off and they followed the rest of our clothes onto the floor.

"Like what you see?" she asked.

I stared at Mona, lying on my bed, propped up on her elbows, wearing nothing but her underwear and a smile. The answer was a very emphatic yes, but somehow I still found the brainpower to be snarky.

"Huh," I said.

"What?" she asked, expression shifting and her arms coming up, slightly, as if to cover herself.

"I was kind of expecting leopard print."

She stared at me for a moment, then burst out with "oh my god I fucking hate you!"

I laughed, she laughed, but hers was a lot more nervous and died after only a moment or two. Mine followed right after it.

"Um, Steve?" Mona asked, quietly.

"Yeah?"

"I'm kind of freaking out right now can you not fuck with me?"

I nodded. "You're fucking gorgeous," I said, and meant it, letting my eyes travel from ankle to neck and back down again. She watched them go and smiled. We were at a pause, now was a great time to take a step back and talk about this...

"Your pants too," she interrupted, her own eyes pausing their appraisal at somewhere below my hips and above my knees, "and get back here so I can feel you."

Yeah, fuck it. Talk can wait. Five seconds later I was sliding in next to Mona wearing just my boxers, and immediately felt her hands on my skin and her body pressing up against mine as she climbed halfway on top of me.

"You feel fucking amazing," she moaned into my mouth. "You're so fucking... ugh I just want to touch you forever." Then she was kissing me again.

Her hands were all over me. One of mine was trapped under her body, but I slid the other one up her leg, grazing the bare roundness of her ass before sliding over her thong and up, up the hardness of her hip, the curve of her waist, her side, then up to the shoulder that I couldn't seem to get enough of.

"Touch me," Mona whispered.

My hand slid down her back, bumping over her bra, and I felt Mona twitch as I ran my fingers down her spine. I tried again, running them up, and Mona whimpered and writhed above me, sliding her leg up further. Her thigh pressed against my cock, hard and throbbing, through my boxers.

"Fuck it's just right fucking there, isn't it?" she murmured.

I wanted to say something about that, some response, but only managed a growling noise as I mashed my lips back against hers. I dragged my hand down and up her back again, staying below her bra, and Mona gasped and moaned, pushing her leg hard against my cock one more time before sliding it down a little and coiling it around my thigh.

Then she pulled her lips away from mine again, nibbling my lip as she went. "It clasps in the back," she murmured, rather breathlessly. "You know how to handle that, right?"

It took me a moment to realize she was talking about her bra. "I'm very good with my hands."

"Mmmm, prove it," she responded, and started kissing her way down my jaw to my neck, both her legs tight around my thigh now, ankles crossed as she squeezed me between her legs. Then her hand slid down my chest, down my belly, further, further, oh shit further until... until she dragged it back up.

"Fuck you're awful and I hate you" I gasped, shuddering and laughing, and I could feel Mona's happy murmurs through my skin as she kissed my neck. My cock ached, twitching at how near she was. I wanted to tell Mona to touch me. I wanted to tell her to stroke me. I wanted to tell her to suck me until I came. I was pretty sure she would if I asked. I didn't ask. Instead I fumbled at her bra with one hand.

Then her lips found the hollow of my throat and I dissolved into a puddle underneath her.

"Having some trouble?" she murmured against my skin, her hips starting to rock against my thigh.

It took five tries to get her bra undone. Mona had to let up on the kissing before I could focus, but she was still rolling her hips and I could feel her panties, warm and damp, sliding back and forth along my leg.

"You're really distracting," I reprimanded her. Mona giggled.

"You think so now?" she asked, starting to move. Instead I put one hand on her shoulder, pushing Mona over onto her back. She went with a delighted yelp and I rolled halfway on top of her before pushing myself up on one arm so I could take her in.

"If I take this off," she asked, nibbling at her lip, "will you get back on top of me?" Then, without waiting for an answer, Mona tugged her bra off and tossed it away, staring up at me with the same nervous, mischievous look she'd been wearing half the night. For some reason I couldn't decide if I wanted to stare at her tits or the nibbling; the nibbling was unbelievably hot.

"Are you just going to stare at them," she asked, "or are you going to play with them?"

I leaned over and kissed her. She kissed me back, sliding her tongue over my lips, then arching her neck and moaning as I cupped one breast and squeezed.

"Get your hands on me," she moaned, her hips pushing up again to grind against me, "get your hands all over me, fucking touch me. Rub my back, grab my tits, play with my fu... just... fucking touch me already!"

I did what she asked, nibbling down her neck, massaging her breast with my hand while she moaned and sighed and writhed beneath me. I moved to rest on my elbow and brought my other hand up, and as I squeezed and rubbed both tits she slid one hand down between her legs, tugging at her thong until I felt her bare, warm, slippery pussy against my leg.

"Yes, Steve," she whispered, pushing her hips up, and I felt my very hard, very ready cock slip out of my boxers and into the groove of her hip alongside her hand.

"Oh fucking yes," Mona, well, moaned.

Here's the thing, though: it had been a while for me, a long while, since noticeably before Mona had gone off to California. When it's been a while and your sexy best friend that you didn't realize you've been crushing over for the past four years is warm, naked, willing, and pressed up against you...

"Mona," I gasped against her neck, "stop..."

"What?" she asked, sounding confused. I tried to pull my hips away and succeeded a little, but Mona clamped down hard on my leg, still grinding.

"Stop," I repeated, a little desperately.

"No," she said.

"Please," I begged. Fuck oh fuck, what was it think of baseball or something? I don't know anything about baseball!

"I'm close," she begged back, grinding faster, my thigh slippery with her.

"So am I!" I gasped, a lot desperately.

"Oh fuck yes," she moaned, her whole body twitching. Then her hand slid from her panties and over my cock, her warm, lithe, wet fingers wrapping around me and stroking twice before...

"Mona!" I gasped. Then my gut tightened, my hips bucked, and I erupted in her hand.

"Yes, oh fuck," she murmured, hips grinding faster as I pulsed between her fingers and spurted onto her belly. "Cum for me oh fuck yes Steve Steve STEVE!" Then she let out a sharp, loud gasp, her thighs clamped tight, and her hips bucked against me, her whole body vibrating.

I collapsed against her, arms giving way as she continued to shudder against my leg, moaning, and I, spent, slowly softened in her hand. Finally she collapsed too, her body melting underneath me as her orgasm finally ended.

I kissed the nearest thing, which turned out to be the top of her head, and her free hand drifted up to run through my hair as we both came down slowly, tingles shooting through my body everywhere her hot skin touched mine.

"Holy fuck," Mona said, some time later.

"Yeah," I said. "Welcome back."

"Maybe I should go away more often," she responded.

We lay in silence for a little longer, her hand running through my hair, mine playing over her body as I listened to the quiet, delighted noises she made with each new spot I found. The comedown was bringing with it questions, though, and the clarity of mind not to ignore them. What had just happened had been fucking amazing, but we really, really needed to talk about it.

"Mona?" I asked, trying not to let the let's-be-serious tone into my voice and failing.

"Yeah?" she responded, and I felt her tense, suddenly on edge.

"Can we talk about what just happened?"

"No."

"What?" That had not been the answer I was expecting.

"No," she repeated and moved underneath me. I let her, lifting myself a bit.

"Monica," I started, using her full name for... reasons. I don't know.

"I can think of better things to do with my mouth," she interrupted, leaning in to kiss me on the throat. Conscious thought died. It hadn't taken her long to figure out that spot.

She was deflecting, although this was a new trick in the book and one I liked it was still deflecting. I pushed Mona away, gently. She went without a fight, but now the smile that had only been half on her face fell all the way off.

"What?" she asked, petulantly, sliding away from me on the bed.

"We need to talk about this," I responded. "And probably take a shower."

Mona glanced down at herself, her eyebrows rising. "Holy shit, Steve, you made a mess."

"I think you made the mess," I tried to joke, but it didn't seem to take. Mona sat up, spinning around to put her feet on the floor.

"Been a while, huh?" She continued, back to me. "You weren't kidding about the whole six pump chump, thing, either, I'd almost forgotten-"

"Mona," I interrupted. She was avoiding the conversation, throwing insults at it instead to try and hold off something that made her uncomfortable. It stung. A lot. We'd just shared something amazing and I thought it might take us somewhere but then... except I also knew Mona well enough to know that sometimes I needed to take the hit and wait for her to work it out. Even when it fucking hurt.

Mona had been silent for a few seconds. "I need to shower," she finally said.

"Please, what's going on?"

She stood up, moving quickly towards the bathroom, not looking at me. "You want to talk, fine. Talk. But I'm going to take a shower."

I watched her go, half of me trying to figure out how to handle this and the other half realizing this was the first time I'd gotten a good look at her from behind and enjoying the smooth curve of her back and her thong-clad ass. Fuck she had a great ass. Then she was through the doorway and gone.

I kicked the covers back and sighed, glancing down at myself. Shit, I was a mess too.

"Save some hot water," I shouted, but the showerhead was already running and I don't think she heard me.

By the time I got to the bathroom Mona was already in the shower. I could just make out her silhouette through the frosted glass, doing something with the dials while steam started to roll up above the top of the door.

"Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"You wanted to talk," she snapped, "so talk." She sounded angry. No, not angry: afraid, and that's when I realized I was afraid too. Social situations are scary, she'd told me that on the first Not-Valentine's Day, and I'd helped her through more than one rough one since, as she had me. This was about as scary as they got, though, and there was no one to help her through this one. Except me, I guess. So, what to say?