Collision (Mature) *Completed*

Vivian

Vivian watched in amusement as Micheal cleaned his second bowl of grits- the rest of breakfast left untouched.

"You've gotta show me how to make this." He hummed as he stood to serve himself another helping. Vivian made sure to get all she wanted before allowing him to serve himself.

"Why don't you just take the whole pot?" Vivian chuckled as she dipped a warm biscuit in honey.

"You don't want anymore?" Despite asking her if she wanted any, he dipped his spoon into the pot and pulled it from the stove.

"No, you can have it."

Micheal immediately shoveled more grits into his mouth. He began unconsciously dancing as he stood eating the meal- his eyes never leaving the pot.

Things with Micheal always felt oddly nostalgic as if they'd been together for a lifetime. Her mother always teased Vivian about Micheal being her soulmate but young Vivian nearly puked at the idea. It didn't seem so far out to her now.

He'd finished the pot just as she finished her meal and she piled the last of the dishes into the dishwater to be washed.

"I got it." Micheal beat her to the sink, his hands working at the food covered dishes.

"Thanks." Returning to the table, she wiped it down with a cleaning wipe before doing the same to her countertops. She'd been raised to clean as you go so once the meal was cooked there was minimal clean up afterwards.

"So what's on the agenda?" Micheal spoke over the clanking of dishes.

"I'm going to curl up with a good book and enjoy my chance at free time. You're going home." His head whipped around at her words, a pout clear on his face.

"I thought we were spending the day together?"

"When was that established?" She wedged herself next to him to begin rinsing and stacking the dishes to dry. It took seconds before they'd finished the last of the dishes and Micheal let the water out.

"Come on, Vivian. I don't want to go home yet." Drying his hands first, he then grabbed her arm to turn her in his direction.

"You don't have to go home, but you got to get the hell up outta here." She recited her mother's favorite line.

"You can still read. I'll be quiet. You won't even know I'm here." Micheal pleaded as he stepped closer. His hands moved from her arm to wrap around her waist.

"...fine." Vivian gave in although she felt excited to spend more time with him.

"Thank you." He dipped down and pecked her quickly before releasing her to begin rinsing suds from the sink.

Vivian's body remained in place as shock filled her. The two hadn't established what they were yet let alone that casual kissing was okay.

Finally realizing what he'd done, Micheal froze in place as well before quickly spinning around to face her. "I'm sorry. I swear it wasn't intentional."

"I-it's," she cleared her throat, "it's okay."

"I'm serious, Vivian. I know how you get and I don't want to come off disrespectful." Panic was clear on his face and he spoke quickly.

"Micheal," she spoke over him, "it's fine. I promise."

"...so can I do it again?" He questioned after a moment of silence. She rolled her eyes as she turned to head towards her bedroom.

The sound of his heavy feet let her know he was following her.

"Well?" He asked as he watched her pull a book from the disorganized stack next to her bed. Vivian knew she'd been slacking on her usual reading so she tried to squeeze it in whenever she had free time.

"Do you need something to change into?" She changed the subject as she eyed the undershirt and slacks he still wore from last night.

"No, I've got clothes in my car I can wear. Now answer my question." He crossed his arms as he blocked the doorway.

"No."

"No to kissing you again or to answering the question?" Vivian smiled as he questioned her. It was clear he itched to kiss her again or he'd have let it go.

"Your guess." He rolled his eyes at her indifference. "Now, move."
...

"I feel like a brand new man." Micheal announced as he stepped from the fog billowing out of the bathroom. She'd taken her shower first already knowing he'd take his sweet time.

"You better not have used all my hot water." She scolded as he padded over to her position on the couch. He'd changed into a pair of grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt.

"Maybe...maybe not." Pulling the throw from across her lap, he plopped onto the couch next to her and pulled it back. Immediately she smelled the familiar scent of her body wash and shampoo.

"What are you reading?" He leaned over to look at the pages as if the title would be displayed among the chapters.

"It's a memoir called 'A beautiful, Terrible Thing' about a wife who finds her husband isn't the man she'd thought him to be." Vivian knew immediately she'd be buying the book when she heard her mother rave about it.

Her mother was a bookworm as well, but she often tore about nearly every book she read. In her lifetime, Vivian had only known her mother to enjoy 15 books.

"Is he a killer?"

"I'm trying to find out." She chirped as she raised the book once more to pick up where she'd left off.

"Right, of course." Micheal nodded before turning to stare at the wall. His fingers drummed against his leg as he sat in silence.

Vivian couldn't pay attention to her book as she watched him stretch on the couch, his legs crossed at the ankle. Before she could stop herself, her eyes drifted to his crotch, the bulge rekindling memories of their time together.

It'd been so long since she'd been thoroughly fucked with Micheal easily taking number one in terms of past partners. With her campaign taking off, she often pushed her own needs to the back of her mind.

"Seems like you're interested in something other than that book." Vivian tried to avert her eyes back to her book to play off her creeping.

"Hardly." Even as she forced her eyes to remain on the pages, she could only focus on the throbbing between her legs.

"Come on, Vivian, we're both adults." Micheal sat up higher on the couch before hooking his finger into her book to pull it away from her face. "Do you want to fuck?"

The blatant question topped off with a genuine look in his eyes had her brain scrambling to form a sentence. Micheal's boldness was unmatched and often off putting when he failed to appropriately filter himself.

"Well, shit, Micheal." Vivian chuckled to buy herself more time.

"Don't play coy, Vivian."
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