Work Text:
The truth is, she didn’t even know she was looking for him until she saw his silhouette on the balcony, far enough away from the party that everyone would see if he'd walked off, which probably meant he’d been there from the start.
Penelope was an expert at slipping away from a crowd. For all her noticeable features, somehow, in everyone else’s eyes, she blurred into nothing, disappearing into the background as surely as if she tried to camouflage herself, even back when she was little and wore neon yellow, of all things.
Now, a grown woman, and with far better fashion sense, she’d mastered the art of meandering through a crowd, smiling apologetically whilst bumbling out- not that it mattered, they never saw her, anyway- and making her way to her ultimate destination.
She closed the balcony door behind her with a quiet click, barely even having fluttered the curtains that closed them to the world. For a moment, just a moment, she let herself take him in, not having noticed her yet. His chestnut hair curled in the breeze, longer than she’d ever seen it before. The highlights of the twinkling lanterns contrasted golden as the loops licked about in the wind. He’d grown his beard out some, looking so touchable, god, she wanted to rub her cheek against it, and when he exhaled, the smoke blew out of his lips and framed him in haze.
There was a curse somewhere in her chest that she swallowed down. Would she ever stop finding him heartstoppingly, breathlessly, overwhelmingly beautiful? She’d seen pictures of him not too long ago, yet he always managed to floor her. The years had flown by in the river of her life- tumultuous, with her father’s death a glass beer bottle shattered in the silt, calm, when she moved out and edited her book by her window, floating - and yet, that would always be the constant.
Even when he was gone. Even when he was traveling South America and Europe with bad reception. Even when she had him for the meager gasps of time he was home. When he was with her.
Then, suddenly, everything was Colin. His eyes were velvet in the dim lighting, emerald luxury. His flat expression gave way to light, as though she’d ignited a flame within him as soon as he registered who she was. She’d never understood what the books meant when they said it, but now- oh, the lovely glow he had in his gaze, his skin brightening and brows lifting- she could melt.
“Pen!” he said, grinning, all straight, white teeth, his full mouth stretched in his mirth. It popped his cheekbone into the gleam of the light as he tossed his cigarette off the ledge.
She had to stay focused, not even five minutes with the man and she was falling into the spell.
“Oh- sorry, stranger, I must have mistaken you for someone else,” she said gravely, turning to open the door and leave but he laughed as she stuck one leg out and then looked at him with squint. “Wait a minute. . .you look familiar.”
“Do I? Might just have one of those faces,” he played along, bringing his free hand up to his jaw and rubbing. She followed the motion, debating if she wanted to feel his fingers or his beard more. Then, as she lost herself in the trance, he snapped his fingers, making her jolt. “I know, I’ll just do a familiar pose!”
And then he made the most ridiculous motion with his body and she chortled, biting down on the snort.
“You look like you’re- ahaha, doing interpretive dance-” he leaned even more into it, making a silly face that had her unable to stifle it down any longer, much to his delight.
When she finally caught her breath again, she looked at him and he had the softest expression on his face, glancing at her. “Pen,” he said again, and it felt like a gooey brownie right out of the oven, almost too hot to touch, but so delicious she needed more.
“Colin,” she breathed out, and she would have tried again, cleared her throat and made herself sound like she wasn’t a besotted fool, but he lifted his arms and smiled.
“Come here?” he asked. It was funny, really, how he thought he needed to phrase it as a question. This was her favorite place in the entire world and it always would be. She knew it the first time he hugged her, short and swift and just a subtle squeeze, and she knew it now, when she stepped into his bubble and he wrapped around her- a blanket in winter and the best cup of cocoa she’d ever drank and a perfectly lit, crackling candle- she knew.
There was nowhere, anywhere, she’d rather be, than tucked against him, her cheek pressed to his chest as he rested his chin over the crown of her head.
It was hard not to love Colin when he was like this. He threw his whole heart behind hugging her, from how his palm was gently rubbing along her lower back, his fingers tangling with the longest of her curls, the gentle movements of it occasionally catching in a light tug that sent tingles from her scalp down her spine and between her knees, sparking and crackling into an ember of arousal.
“I miss you,” he said into her hair, pressing her closer as he inhaled deeply, and maybe it was silly that she’d take his cue before she’d do the same, but with his permission, she turned her head and smelled his shirt, taking in the delicious combination of smoke and vanilla and ginger, the leather jacket he had unzipped enveloping her in another layer of warmth.
“Not missed?” she managed to ask, exhaling and all but tasting him on her tongue.
“No,” he confirmed, nuzzling as he curled around her. “Miss, present tense. Need to replenish.”
She giggled, her arms having been thrown under his jacket with how short she was, already, so she fisted the back of his tee, nails just barely making contact with the skin beneath as she allowed herself the healing of being in his hold, again. The light beat of the music inside swirled around them, and he swayed to it, taking her for the ride as he had her rocking with him.
The moment stretched, became soft, fragile. She was almost afraid to speak, again. “I,” she started, and he pressed his cheek into her hair more firmly as though encouragement, “I miss you, too.”
The feeling of him smiling against her crown- it was so sweet. Then, he kissed the top of her curls and she flattened her palms against his back so she could stroke up and down, encouraging him closer.
At least, until he squeezed her without warning and she squeaked, such a high pitched, unexpected sound that she felt him rumble with silent laughter.
“Colin!”
“I’m sorry-” he said, then, through his more audible laughter, “I’m- haha, I’m sorry, you’re just- you’re just so cute, Pen. That was adorable.”
She flushed, glad she could hide her face away and he wouldn’t be privy to just how much he affected her. Colin was dangerous and she knew it. She always knew it. Colin wasn’t danger the way shards of ceramic were, or like the glint of a knife. No, he was worse. Colin was genuine, unyielding- it was like he always found a little more kindness to give away, a little more joy to be had. She’d seen him crack jokes sick out of his mind with fever, smile in reassurance over a 5th glass of whiskey, numb, but still willing to reach to her.
Colin was danger the way ‘5 more minutes’ without an alarm was- she’d sink into him and only come out when it was too late. He was indulgent, so, so good. Good to his bones, to the marrow, because the problem was that he meant it. He always meant it. He didn’t put it on and off like an act, it was just who he was. And he meant it, now, holding her.
Thank all things good and worthwhile that she bit down on her whimper.
“Next thing I know,” she started, “you’re going to call me your little toothpaste tube.”
“Okay, but can I? Because that’s perfect. You realize how- No!” he gasped, jostling her slightly. “What about Go-Gurt?”
“Go-Gurt?”
“Sweet and squeezable.”
“. . .somehow, I prefer little toothpaste tube.”
“What if I call you lil Go-Gurt?”
“Worse.”
“Ah, they can’t all be winners, now can they?” he asked, chuckling. “You know, if you were on your menstrual and I did that, you’d be my little ketchup packet.”
“I’ve been your little ketchup packet, Colin,” she laughed. The first time he’d said it, she’d been mortified, but he made up for it by bringing her ice cream and chicken nuggets before promptly offering his services as a heating pad. He’d rubbed her back and everything. It was relatively easy to forgive him.
“Are you, now?”
She rolled her eyes. Leave it to Colin, who clearly didn’t know or care or understand having boundaries with her, to ask if she was on her period at his welcome home party at his family’s house.
“No.”
“Okay, good,” he said, and then she barely had the time to squeal and clutch him as he wrapped one hand under her thigh and kept his arm around her waist, quite literally sweeping her off her feet, before he settled her split legs around his waist, giving her the sign to wrap around him.
She could have swallowed her tongue. Only Colin could shift her so far off her axis, just when she thought they were in safe territory, he had to go and pick her up and jolt her right back into the fact that she was stupid turned on.
“Wh-Wha?” she asked, dizzy in the proximity, arms thrown around his neck, but barely needing to hold on at all as he held her tight to his firm body. She felt his breathing, how his ribs would expand and collapse between her thighs and she almost snapped. His shirt had ridden up high enough that she felt the hot skin of his torso on her legs, his jacket draped over, trapping her in a warm bubble of pleasure, everywhere they connected goosefleshing. Ever since he’d picked her up like this for the first time yesterday at the airport, she’d wanted it again, and the way he looked at her, now- all the breath in her body bubbled out in the nervous giggle she hiccupped out.
What’s a girl to do when she finds herself in a situation she’d masturbated to just the night prior? He looked so in the moment- his eyes were fixated on her face, taking her in before glancing at her lips, parted in her surprise. She had to lick them before she said his name, and he looked back at her eyes once more.
“I-” he started, and her legs tightened around him just as her arms loosened, one hand daring to come to his hair, slow and tentative, running through, the other on his shoulder, swiping spirals into his skin, “I really missed you.” It seemed like he wanted to say something else, but what it was- best not to speculate.
She gently traced the shell of his ear. “I’m glad you’re back,” she said, lulled in the moment. What could be the harm? “I missed you every single day, you know?”
“I know,” he said, sighing against her throat and then- she almost gasped when he laid a soft kiss there. “We said it all the time but- I missed you every day, too. Every single day. Do you know how many times I imagined you in front of me while we talked on the phone?”
She laughed, but it was watery and threadbare, foolishly, openly vulnerable. He just made it so easy. “How many?”
“Every time,” he said, smiling at her as he took in her misty eyes at his answer. “Please don’t cry.”
“I won’t. This? This is nothing,” she joked, but he leaned in once more, this time kissing her cheek, her fingers trembling.
“It’s alright. I’m emotional, too. It was-” he took a deep breath, and it was then that she noticed her skirt had been hitched up, and his thumb was stroking over the outside of her bare thigh. She shivered. “It was hard to be away for so long.”
“It always is,” she said, swirling through his more prominent curls, loving the feel of his hair in her fingers, loving to comfort him with it. “But you did it! And you accomplished so much. It’s incredible, Colin, what you’ve gotten done. Your photographs- they’re beautiful. I’m so, so happy you’re back, but it wasn’t for nothing.”
He looked like he wanted to say something more, elaborate in some other way, but then she saw him glance behind her. “Just- hold on,” he said, and she had to throw her arms around his neck once more when he spun her around, then lowered the both of them. She almost shrieked, hating heights, hating losing control, and hating unexpected movements, but then she was in Colin’s lap, her calves resting on either side of a deck chair.
“Colin Bridgerto- oh ,” she said in surprise, his arms thrown around her and everywhere, suddenly. She felt his palm on her shoulders, fingertips playing at the sensitive nape of her neck, tracing up and down her back and making her arch into him, bent needy in his grasp.
His breath was hot against her throat, and she felt her knees turn to mush, grateful she didn't need them to support her, not even to hold on.
“Thank you,” he said, and she realized he was cradling her, having dropped into the chair on the balcony to do so. Penelope felt breathless in the moment. She didn’t understand. It was a level of affection he’d never shown her, before. The six months they were apart- well, she wasn’t stupid. She knew they’d gotten closer. So close. She flushed to think of it.
Should she-
No, it was a fool’s journey, to try to understand all of it, what he was thinking, what she was. So, she did what she did best with Colin- she laid back and let herself feel it. For as long as she’d known him, she’d known she was safe with him.
And she'd never been very good at resisting temptation.
She sighed, going liquid in his hold. “For what?” she asked, snuggling in.
“For all of it,” he said, voice choked the way it was sometimes over the phone. So, she held him, let herself live out all her hopelessly romantic fantasies. Held him like he'd held her, held him like she wanted to when she’d heard it through the receiver and he’d been so, horribly far away, god, what she wouldn’t have given to touch him. Her ear pressed to his chest, listening to his heart beating, hands tracing love letters along his sides. His hum was felt and heard, both, and the yearning in her sparked electric, like a hive inside of her, fluttering and buzzing against her skin when he said: “I like that, don’t stop.”
Her thighs twitched from where she was straddling him, where he’d positioned her. She could just grind down and-
Penelope focused on the feeling of him under her hands, the soft cushion of his shirt, hiking higher and higher on his body, the smooth whisper of his jacket against her forearms. Then, the cotton was replaced by his skin, and the contrast was a mesmerizing warmth on her palms. He was solid, the bump of his ribs all muscle and lean frame.
She’d imagined how he felt for ages, in almost every scenario, but somehow, not this one. All those moments she’d fantasized about, they were only for her. But this? This was for them.
Them.
All her love for Colin Bridgerton, all her yearning those last few months spilled out from the cracks in her heart and she couldn’t help herself from working her hands around him, throwing herself so fully into his embrace that she nearly careened her face into the crook of his shoulder. He sighed, clasping her to him and going so far as to bring his knees up so she was more fully on his lap. No, all but fully laying on him.
A sliver of concern, a mean voice fountained through her, and she worried if she’d crush him. But Colin leaned into her, which was nonsensical, because they were already pressed together so close, yet he found the miniscule space to fill, and said “Just hold me for a minute.”
How could she do anything else? She luxuriated in it, savoring the cool air around them as the soft lights twinkled. The breeze tickled spots of her exposed skin, juxtaposing the warm hold she was in. Colin smelled clean and familiar and enticing, her nose against his throat where he must have sprayed his cologne, because it was just that much more concentrated, making her head spin as she breathed him in. With each dull throb of the music around them, the beat of her body changed, the two of them curled together in the night.
The world was Colin. Whenever he was in a room, that was true. This close, however, it was like she was injecting him into her veins, the unfiltered feeling he brought. Being this close to Colin was heat and arousal, yes, but it was also all glitter, sparkling and fizzing and new, every single time.
At a certain point, her mind shut off. All the worry, the over-thinking, it faded away. There was only warm, only him, only an embrace sure and endless, filling the sore spots inside her that had gaped open while he was gone, his absences all smoothed over as his hands molded her nearer and nearer to his body. It was a long time, they laid like that, and with each second, each minute, she felt something between them shift and meld together.
“I-” he broke, and this time, she squeezed him comfortingly, and she heard his smile in his voice before she leaned back to look at him. “I got an apartment.”
For a moment, it was just still. Then, the news hit her and the implications of it did, as well. He was- ?
“Colin, what? That’s amazing!” she shrieked, throwing herself at him once more, listening to his ‘oof’ before he laughed and hugged her back.
“Yeah! Uh, signed the lease this morning and everything.”
She grinned, radiating sunshine and rainbows. “Where?” she asked, pulling away and all but bouncing. Clearly having forgotten where she was sitting.
His eyes were dark when he looked at her, but she was more focused on his mouth when he licked his lips. “Not far, over on Cherry street.”
“I’m so happy for you,” she said, trying not to bite the insides of her cheeks. He’s staying? He’s staying? Long enough to have an apartment. Long enough for. . .?
He smiled at her, then, rather bashfully, and it was so cute that she needed to hold back the sticky, lovesick noise that was just dying to drip out. “I was hoping you could come by. You know, once I’m moved in. I’d love to christen it with you,” he said, and at the end, his eyes flicked over her- or- no, it was so fast. Did they? He wouldn’t.
Would he?
“Oh- yeah, that would be- do you need any help moving in?” she asked, catching up with her brain.
“No, it’s okay,” he said, and she felt a twinge of rejection before he continued, “I want your first memory of it to be when it’s ready for you.”
Her heart wobbled in her chest at that, hips rocking, just barely, as he pushed off from the chair and sat up. The moment hung between them, breathing as they looked at each other. Her thoughts were slipping between her fingers, nothing but Colin and his proximity and his eyes, gazing into her own like he were seeing her, really, truly seeing her- she tilted her head, coming closer- closer- she felt his heart stutter under her palm-
“Hey! Stop hogging the balcony,” she heard, and she reared back with eyes wincing, turning to see Eloise and Benedict looking all too amused at the door, the music intensifying with the open door. “Sorry, Pen, but this is the only place to smoke. Not even the Prodigal Son can monopolize it all night.”
Benedict shrugged, hands up as though it couldn’t be helped, and Colin huffed, but gave them a good natured nod. “Fair enough, fair enough. We should go and dance, anyway.”
There was a beat where nothing happened and then Pen realized that they were waiting for her. For her to. . .to. . .get off of Colin’s lap so he could stand up. She all but scrambled the instant she noticed, and Eloise gave her an inquisitive look ‘ Everything alright?’ to which she nodded, cheeks pink. ‘ All good.’
And after they left, when Colin pulled her to the dance floor and danced nearly every single dance of the night from that point forward with her, ( )
and when his body was so warm on hers, his knee between her thighs, his hands in her hair, ( )
and when they swayed with each other to a slow, romantic song, ( )
and when they ground and rocked against each other to the hot and heavy ones, testing all her resolve not to rub herself off on him through his pants the entire time, ( ) ( ) ( )
and when he fixed her hair and grasped her hip, gathering her skirts gently first, ( )
and when he kissed her cheek and held her close- ( )
it became her mantra.
(All good.)
(All good.)
All.
Good.