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"Oh, my God," she says, as he wraps one arm around her and kisses her, fumbling for her bra-strap with one hand shoved up under her shirt. She takes his face in both hands and kisses him hard, kisses him the way that he's used to her kissing him, and it feels so good, and what the fuck is wrong with this bra?Jesus."Oh, my God," says Scar again, both hands still framing his face, holding him still and studying him for a moment. "Your a child. Jesus. This is so wrong.""Don't think about that," he says, and he shoves his other hand up the back of her shirt because, Jesus, this is some kind of super bra or something, and he's sure it was easier than this when he was an adult. He occupies himself with leaning in and kissing her her chin, her neck, the slope of her breasts. They've been together long enough that he knows exactly how to touch her, how she likes to be touched and he applies it to himself with youthful exuberance. Her bra is undone and he pushes her backwards, pressing his body over hers. He's hard and he finds himself desperate for her to feel it, pressing down against her, rocking her hips down to meet hers, and, God, it's so good when he feels her rocking back."That's it, Scar," he mumbles, shoving her shirt up with both hands, dropping his head and licking a stripe across one nipple and he loves the way her ribs rise under his hands when her breath catches."Don't call me "Scar"," she mumbles but he can feel her resolve melting away as she pushes ten fingers into his hair and holds his head where he is, presses him down and he kisses her open mouthed and eager, and, Christ, he's so hard and he doesn't even care as long as he makes her feel good. He kisses down her body, drags her jeans down with him. She's wearing lace panties that he doesn't remember seeing before and for a moment his head swims with sick jealously, but then he remembers that he's the one who's actually seeing them and it all just melts away.He just gets lost in her, and it doesn't matter how old he is, and it doesn't matter what he is or isn't supposed to know.Not when it's always been her.He can barely wait to be inside her, scrambling, needing her. He's awkward and ungainly, pushing up on his hands and knees to cover her and she covers her eyes with one hand like she's trying to block out that it's him, but then her hand comes up to the back of her neck and she pulls him down to her and he goes because he's always gone because it's always been her."I love you," he says, inside her but he hasn't remembered how to move yet."Don't say that," she says, and turns her face blindly to kiss him. "Please don't say that."And he lost his virginity to her when he was fifteen, and now he's seventeen again, and it's like one of the rest of it ever happened. Nothing ever went wrong.They've got enough time for whatever this is.They've got enough time.
