The Boston Brute Series: Pt. 11 (Good Boyfriend Moment)
Pairing: NHL!Chris Evans x Athletic Trainer!Reader (female character)
Summary: When you graduated from Northeastern University, you had your sights set on the West Coast. And then you were offered a position with the Boston Bruins Athletic Training Department. And then you met Chris. A 6′3″, ruggedly handsome hockey player dead set on making your life a living hell by pushing every button and getting on every nerve. Despite your obvious disdain for each other and the 'No Fraternization' clause in your employee contract, you're drawn together in a passionate, fiery love affair that seems to burn everything in its wake.
Warnings: Crude language. Reader being insecure about looks, bringing up past issues with ex-boyfriends. SMUT (fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, babes), lots of dirty talk. 18+, please. Minors will be blocked.) Lot's of fluff and soft Chris. Please do not read this series if you are not a fan of asshole Chris or fics with a lot of angst. As always, let me know if I missed anything!
W/C: 6.4k
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All players and scenarios are made up completely. This story does not reflect things that actually happen in the NHL or with its players. Additionally, I talk about Chris's family in this fic. Again, work of fiction and is no reflection of his parents or grandparents in real life.
Chris POV
Chris: Are you trying to kill me?
He sent the text with a smile on his face, watching you as you stood at the bar, your elbows propped up and your chin resting on your hands. You were so fucking cute.
You were a lot of things. Funny. Sexy. Charismatic. Sarcastic. But the one he loved the most, was cute. You were so fucking cute.
Your legs were crossed at the ankles, ass sticking out just enough like you knew he would be watching. He hated that he couldn't be affectionate with you in public. After all of these years of never wanting to be affectionate with anyone he's "dated", he craved that level of intimacy with you and it drove him crazy that he couldn't have it.
He spent plenty of time making up for it in other ways and was honestly surprised that you weren't tired of constantly feeling his hands all over your body, but Chris couldn't stop himself. He was the moth to your flame.
He had resisted the pull he felt to you at first, thinking it was just physical attraction and nothing more. For the entire 40 years that he has been on this planet, Chris never believed in soulmates or everyone having just one person that was made for him, but after you... He knew he'd been wrong.
You were his soulmate. In every way shape and form, you were meant for him. He could feel it.
He found himself wanting to say 'I love you' more and more often, but it just never felt perfect. The timing never seemed right. Chris had thought about saving it for when he took you home to Sudbury, but that was a little under a month away and it felt silly. If he knew, he knew. Why wait?
But then he looked up at you again, watching as you pulled your phone from your pocket and read the message he'd sent to you, a slow grin spreading across your face. You were perfect. Therefore saying 'I love you' also needed to be in the perfect place.
Your eyes found his, shaking your head slightly before you typed back a message.
You: I'm literally wearing a turtleneck and jeans.
Chris: Don't act like you don't know what you look like in those jeans.
Chris: Put your drink on my tab.
Tonight, despite coming off of a loss last night, the team was out at their usual spot blowing off some steam in the VIP lounge at The Grand. He hadn't originally planned on going, but then Connor invited Marlowe and Marlowe invited you, and you were not going to some bar with a bunch of drunk idiots without Chris around.
It wasn't an insecurity thing, it was a protectiveness thing. His mind kept going back to the night that he'd taken the 3 of you to your house and how Lance almost dragged you out of here. He didn't want to imagine what might've unfolded had he not been watching... Chris forced himself to stop thinking about it because Dean wasn't here. Lance wasn't here. Only you. And you were his.
Even though Layne insisted that no one would actually rat on the two of you if you were caught, Chris didn't want to risk it. So for the past hour, you've been stealing playful glances and teasing smiles, both of you anxious to get back to Chris's apartment.
You: Don't have to tell me twice, Mr. Sixty-Five Grand.
The two of you had the money talk. Well, kind of. You drunkenly told Chris on the ride home from the gala after he'd paid for your date and donated some more money for the cause, that he'd basically donated your salary so you wouldn't be paying for anything ever again.
You laughed it off in the morning and told him you were joking and that you'd continue to pay for things, but Chris didn't care. It drove him crazy to spoil you and spend money on you, which is exactly what he told you.
He did get you to admit that you loved being spoiled, not that he needed you to admit it. He felt how wet it got you, he saw how desperate you were for him. He knew just what it did to you. But you also told him that if he spent another $65,000 on you, you'd chop his balls off.
Fair enough.
Chris laughed at your message and tucked his phone away, nursing the beer in his hand while looking around the room. His eyes never left you for more than a few seconds though.
Brett plopped down next to Chris, jerking his chin towards the phone he'd just pocketed. "You really seeing someone?"
He shrugged and despite wanting to watch you make your way back over to the lounge, he kept his eyes locked on the beer label he was picking at instead. "Yeah, but it's nothing serious." Lies. More and more lies.
Brett snorted, sinking in the couch and tilting his head toward Chris. "Nothing serious, my ass."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Dude, I've seen you smile at your phone more in the past month or so than I've seen you smile at a real human in the past like 3 years." He paused, raising his eyebrows at Chris. "At least."
He shook his head, taking another sip of the beer, his eyes flickering over to you as you crossed the threshold into the VIP lounge, walking over to where Marlowe and Connor stood with a few other players. "She's nice," Chris responded with another shrug, looking back at Brett. "And very sarcastic."
Brett grinned, nudging Chris's shoulder with his beer bottle. "So giving you a run for your money then, right?"
He snuck a glance your way, his heart swelling in his chest as you threw your head back, laughing at something Connor was saying. He looked back at Brett, shaking his head. "You have no idea."
"I'm happy for you, man." His hand reached out, clasping Chris's shoulder. "Really. You seem... happy."
"Thanks." He responded simply, his eyes lowering again to the beer bottle in his hands.
"Alright, man. If I'm going home with someone tonight, I better start looking."
Chris chuckled, nodding and clinking his beer with Brett's before his teammate stood and left, leaving him on the velvet sofa alone.
That was one thing Chris didn't miss. He thought he would because it meant no commitment. No responsibility. No feelings.
But damn, was he wrong about that. It was hard for him to remember ever being satisfied or happy living that way. Or maybe it was because he just didn't want to admit to himself that he spent so long being so unhappy.
Chris: Gonna go refill. You good?
He watched as you pulled your phone out, turning and smiling softly before typing back an answer.
You: I'm good. Miss you.
He felt yet another smile form on his lips, because dammit he missed you, too.
Chris: Miss you more, princess.
He finished off his beer, tossing it into the bin before making his way up towards the bar. Chris leaned against the wooden counter, taking a second to look around while he waited for an available bartender, the bass from the music vibrating his body while people danced and moved around the club.
Chris scrubbed a hand down his face. He was getting too old for this. After a rough game, he always went home. He showered, watched the game highlights and looked for things that went wrong, then climbed into bed.
That was it.
Uneventful. Predictable. Safe.
But instead, he was ordering another drink, watching you from across the bar because he couldn't be seen with you. And while he'd rather be snuggled up in bed with you right now, you were having fun and that alone was a good enough reason for him to be here.
"Hey there."
Chris looked to his left, a shorter woman standing next to him. Her hair was a deep shade of brunette, ringlet curls wildly framing her face.
He dipped his chin in a greeting, turning to face the bar again.
At one point in time, if a woman approached him like this with a look on her face like this one did, he'd give her a little more, flash a smug little smile, shift his weight so he was leaning closer instead of away. He'd tease her, pull a strand of hair between his fingertips, flirt a little and they'd high-tail it out of there.
But now, his eyes and heart were set on you. A man who was once so certain that he could never be 'tied down', was wrapped around your finger so tight he couldn't even bring himself to entertain her conversation in a friendly manner.
"You come here alone?"
Chris lowered his head, scratching his forehead with his thumb before he looked at the woman. "No."
She frowned, sticking her bottom lip out in a pout. "Well, that's very unfortunate for me, then. Isn't it?" Normally after being told something like that, the person would take a step back or excuse themselves. But instead, she stepped closer to Chris, her fingertips brushing against his forearm.
Chris took a step back, his eyes flickering to where you stood, currently occupied by a conversation with Marlowe, thankfully. "I'm seeing someone."
"I'm just being friendly," she cooed, sticking her hand towards Chris. "Mindy."
He sighed, nodding his head. "Nice to meet you, Mindy. But I'm currently in a relationship."
Mindy rolled her eyes, sipping on her drink again while she gave Chris a once over. "The infamous lady's man, Chris Evans has a girlfriend?" She raised her eyebrows like she didn't believe him.
Great, he thought, she knows who I am.
"Yes. I have a girlfriend."
"Hm." She hummed in response, her voice barely cutting over the music blaring through the club. "Okay. So you have a girlfriend. Let's just talk, then. Just friends." Her speech slurred a little, the smell of vodka wafting from her breath as she leaned in a little closer, resting her hand on his forearm.
Chris offered a tightlipped smile. "No, thank you." He went to move his arm, but her grip tightened.
"Give me 5 minutes in the bathroom, I'll make you forget your girlfriend."
He pulled his arm from her grip, looking up towards the VIP lounge to see you looking over. Your jaw was set, lips pressed together in a tight line. You were pissed. Chris growled in frustration, forgoing the refill and heading back towards where you stood.
You turned and said something to Marlowe before disappearing through the alleyway exit at the back of the lounge. He felt horrible. It was easy to misread the situation, especially because you couldn't hear their conversation, but you had to know that Chris would never hurt you like that. Ever.
Chris cursed under his breath, ignoring Mindy as she called out behind him, begging him to come back.
He pushed through the crowd of people, taking the steps to the lounge two at a time.
"She just needs a minute."
Chris looked over at Marlowe. "I'm not letting her stand in the alley by herself at midnight. If she wants a minute, she can take it. But I'm not leaving her alone out there."
He walked towards the exit door, twisting the handle and pushing it open, searching left and right before he finally laid eyes on you. "Y/N!" He jogged over to where you stood, your hands on your hips with your head tilted back. "I'm sorry. I tried to get her to go away, I just wanted another beer. I promise I was trying to get her to go away the whole time. But I can understand why you're mad." He approached slowly, stopping in his tracks when you turned abruptly.
"I'm not mad at you, Chris!" You cried, taking a deep breath as a stream of mascara flowed down your cheeks. You wiped under your eyes. "I'm so unbelievably pissed at the world! How is this fair? How is it fair?! I'm just– I don't know. Jealous? I have to sit and watch Marlowe and Connor all lovey-dovey and couple-y and I can't even look your way or smile at you because I could lose my job!" You let out a frustrated groan, swiping under your eyes again.
Chris swallowed the lump in his throat, afraid of where this might be going. He's never been in a serious relationship before, he's made that very clear. And sure, both of you knew what you were getting yourselves into but... how long was this sustainable for you?
In Chris's mind, he would willingly sacrifice all of the public moments because it meant holding the private moments so much closer. He could appreciate the secretive smiles and longing stares because it only intensified the intimacy between you when you were alone. He could cherish the real smiles and desperate kisses when it was finally just the two of you.
But he could also understand your want to be together in public. It was hard that he couldn't touch you whenever he wanted. It was obviously hard for you to watch someone flirt with him and not be able to do anything about it.
If the situation were reversed, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to practice the same restraint that you did.
Despite his attempt to maintain a poker face while you worked out your frustrations, you must've read the concern on his face.
Your shoulders fell. "Baby, no." You walked over, lifting your hands to frame his face. "I'm not–" you shook your head. "I don't regret anything. I'm not hinting that we should end this. I just– I don't think I realized how fucking frustrating it would be. I mean, watching her so blatantly flirt with you and I just had to stand and watch? It sucked. I just– It sucks."
Guilt sliced through his chest like a hot knife. He should've done more. He should've been obvious and more adamant that Mindy walk away. Rules or contracts be damned, Chris snaked his arms around your waist, holding you close to his body. He hated seeing you like this. But the only way he knew how to fix it was to tell you to quit your job and that wasn't happening, so he was stuck.
Chris closed his eyes, burying his face in your hair as your arms wrapped around his neck. "I'm sorry, Y/N. Truly."
You squeezed him gently before pulling away and looking up at him again. "You should be. How dare you make me like you. I was perfectly content hating you for the rest of my life, you brute."
He chuckled, shaking his head before placing a chaste kiss on your forehead. "Wanna get out of here?"
"I'm sobbing into your chest in the back alleyway of a club and you're trying to seduce me?"
Chris rolled his eyes. He loved your sarcasm. You never failed to make him laugh, even when he felt like shit. "No, smartass. I'm old and ready to go home. Would you like to join me?"
A smile lit up your face while you nodded, sniffling softly. "Yes. I would love that."
Unfortunately for both of you, you had to take separate Uber's to Chris's place. He said his goodbyes quickly before calling himself an Uber and then dialing the car service he normally used for himself to order you a car.
He would take an Uber alone, but he trusted the car service more to get you to his apartment safely.
Reader POV
This fucking sucks.
Thankfully the ride back to Chris's was pretty short because it left less time for you to get in your head about this relationship and your predicament.
It sucked.
There was no other way to put it.
But you were falling in love with Chris, you saw a future with him. You weren't just going to end it because you couldn't hold hands in public. Though it was so much more than that. The two of you just needed to figure out how to navigate... everything.
Tonight, watching that bitch put her hands on Chris while you stood there like a complete idiot just tipped your frustrations over the edge. Everything came to a head.
You hadn't meant for Chris to see you so upset about it, you knew that it would upset him and you were afraid that if he thought for some reason you had one foot out of the door, he would beat you to it and take off so he wasn't the one hurting. The thought terrified you.
Although, you saw the way Chris looked at you. You noticed the pictures that he took of you when he thought you weren't paying attention. If he did get scared and break things off, you definitely didn't think you'd be the only one hurting.
Chris was waiting outside of his building when you arrived, his back leaning against the brick with his arms crossed over his chest.
You wanted to laugh. The scowl etched into his face made him look so mean. It's never been completely lost on you why he was called The Boston Brute, but the more you were getting to know him, the less and less the persona fit.
Except right now. You could see it in the frown. He was deep in thought, his eyebrows doing this cute little thing where they pushed together just enough for a deep line to form between them, joined by a few worry lines on his forehead.
It's almost become second nature to reach up and smooth them out, reminding him that the real-life scenario isn't nearly as bad as whatever is going on in his head.
But as cute as it was, it still worried you.
You climbed out of the car and made your way over to where he stood. "You know, sometimes these pensive looks you get on your face make me wanna flick your forehead to snap you out of it."
He stared at you for a second, his features relaxing before turning his lips turned up into a smile. "I never know what's going to come out of your mouth."
"Good." You smiled, "I'm keeping you young."
Chris rolled his eyes, swatting your ass as you walked past him into his building. "In more ways than one, princess."
You chuckled, walking with him to his elevator. Chris slides his fob in front of the reader to open the doors. "What were you thinking about just now?"
He shrugged, his hand lowering to the small of your back as he led you into the elevator. "Just.. everything. I hate that this is hard for you."
For me? You thought, chewing on your lip before responding. "Is it not hard for you?" Your stomach turned to stone and for the first time since your relationship started with Chris, you felt insecure. Maybe he was happy about this secretive relationship. Maybe he didn't want to be seen with you. Maybe–
Chris shook his head, reaching up to cup your chin. "Get out of your head. That's not what I meant." He reached back to press the 'P' on the button board, his eyes locked on you the entire time. "I hate seeing you upset, Y/N. It kills me that I can't hold you like this in public and I'm trying really hard not to have a bad boyfriend moment–" you smiled softly. When the two of you first started dating, he told you over and over again that you would have to help him distinguish the bad boyfriend moments from the good boyfriend moments. It warmed your heart that he tried so hard to make you happy. "– But I don't need the public moments. I hate it, yes. But I would forego every single opportunity to hold your hand or kiss you in public if I meant that I could still see you at all. Because I would rather stare at you all day from a distance and spend the night with you in my arms than have nothing at all."
God, this man. Your heart melted into a puddle at his confession, as well any feeling of trepidation that lived in the back of your mind. The love you felt for him sat on the tip of your tongue, desperate to be said.
The elevator beeped loudly in rapid succession, signaling your arrival to Chris's floor and that his fob needed to be swiped again, but neither of you made a move to leave, his hand still cupping your chin. A shiver traveled through your spine and settled between your legs as you repeated his words, the tension between you electrifying the air in the small elevator cabin. "That wasn't a bad boyfriend moment." You whispered.
The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled, warming your chest. "That's good, I suppose."
"Very." You nodded, your eyes flickering from him to the fob reader. "You gonna swipe that thing or not?"
"You in a rush?"
You swallowed. "I'd rather fuck you in the privacy of your–"
Chris cut you off with a searing kiss, his lips meeting yours with the same intensity that was buzzing off of you. All of the built-up emotions from tonight, the jealousy, the longing, the love, passed between the two of you when his lips slanted over yours, his tongue swiping against the seam of your lips.
He wasn't wasting any time.
One of his hands fell to your waist, gripping you flush to his chest while the other reached back blindly, fumbling with the fob until the reader beeped and the doors split open.
He tossed his keys somewhere towards the entryway table, his tongue swirling against yours as your tastebuds savored the malty sweetness of the Stella he'd finished at the bar. He always tasted so fucking good.
You yelped in surprise when his hands moved to your bottom, lifting and guiding your legs around his waist.
"Damn these jeans." He mumbled against your lips. You smiled, tangling your fingers in his hair as he carried you through the threshold, setting you down on the white entryway table, both of you ignoring the pile of mail that fluttered to the ground around you.
Chris pulled away, working on the button and zipper of your jeans while you yanked your sweater over your head. He paused after yanking your jeans and panties off to pull his own shirt off, tossing it to the side.
He worked on getting his jeans off while you pulled him closer, your lips traveling up his neck, nibbling gently at his skin.
A smile teased at your lips when Chris let out a strangled moan, like the clothes he was working to get off were such an inconvenience.
Chris reached up, cupping the back of your neck and drawing your mouth to his with an urgency that made your head spin. He never got enough of you and you weren't entirely sure if you'd ever get enough of him.
His fingertips brushed down your bare skin, your chest heaving with anticipation. You ached for his touch, your hips rolling involuntarily as his hand lowered.
Chris's hand dipped between your thighs, hissing out a breath when he felt how wet you already were. "Christ, Y/N."
Your body jerked when his fingers brushed against your clit, Chris's mouth landing on yours and swallowing the moan that left your lips.
You felt his middle finger push inside of you, and then one more, curling slightly as his thumb found your clit. Your head fell back and Chris's lips moved your neck, gently sucking on your pulse point. You moaned out Chris's name, his fingers pushing in deeper as a familiar tension coiled in your belly.
Chris's lips moved your jawline, slowly moving up to nibble on your earlobe. "You look so fucking sexy when you come, Y/N. So fucking sexy." His tongue flicked against your skin, soothing against the fire burning inside of you. "That's it, baby. Come for me."
You soaked in Chris's praise, every word bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
His lips found your neck again, his breath against your skin sending a shiver down your spine while his fingers pumped inside of you. "So fuckin' beautiful." He mumbled against you.
You could feel yourself clench around his fingers, your toes curling as you felt an orgasm blossom in your core.
"Come, Y/N." Chris commanded in a low, huskiness voice, sending you over the edge.
You cried out, an overwhelming rush of pleasure coursing through your veins as you came. Your hands gripped him tighter as your body writhed and shook under Chris, each stroke of his thumb sending another tidal wave of pleasure through your body.
"Chris, please!" You moaned, rolling your hips. "Please, I need you inside me, please." You begged, desperate to feel more of him.
Chris's fingers slid out of you slowly, a small whimper leaving your lips as you came down from your high.
His lips found yours against, his tongue curling against yours as he lined himself up and slowly eased into you. You hissed out a breath as he stretched you out, a feeling you were beginning to crave.
No wonder you guys couldn't keep your hands off of each other. You fit together perfectly in every sense.
He gave you a second to adjust before he pulled back and thrust into you again, another moan escaping your lips.
Chris's thrusts found a steady rhythm, pumping into you with force, but somehow so gentle and caring at the same time.
That's just how your relationship was with Chris. He read you so easily and always knew just what you needed. It was a whirlwind of perfection, neither of you knowing what was coming next. The good, the bad. The rough, the gentle.
You wanted whatever he had to offer.
Chris's hand moved down, his middle finger finding your clit once more and an aftershock of your first orgasm rippled through you, another one building quicker than you anticipated.
Chris's breathing was staggered, his movements becoming tense, telling you he was getting close.
Your lips separated from his, the hand you had on his neck gripped tightly to keep him close.
"You're close baby, I can feel it." You cooed in his ear, your fingers raking through his hair. "God, you feel so good, Chris. I wanna come with you." You moaned, your head tilting back slightly as the pressure in your belly boiled over, another climax wrecking through your body.
Chris grunted, his finger circling your clit as he came with you, a moan falling from his parted lips when his hips stilled, spilling his release inside of you.
The sounds of your panting breaths filled the air, both of you trying to catch your breath. Your legs shook around him as his finger eased up, slowly pulling away from you.
"How does it just keep getting better?"
You smiled, shaking your head slightly. Because we're in love, you idiot. That's what your mind was screaming at you to say, but the fear of scaring him off overpowered your decision to say those 3 little words every single time. "I'm just amazing like that, what can I say?" You settled for a joke instead, but the look in his eyes told you it was something more. Something close to how you felt.
Chris dipped down, pressing his lips against yours, lingering for a moment before he pulled away. "You are pretty amazing."
The grin on your face melted into a small, sentimental smile, and you hoped it reflected the same sincerity that coated his words.
His forehead rested against yours for a second before he pulled away, sucking in a short breath when he eased out of you. "Come on, let's go shower."
You blew out a slow breath as he pulled up his jeans. "I don't know if my legs work. You're gonna have to give me a second." You teased. Well, mostly. Your legs were a little shaky.
Chris grinned, leaning over and scooping you up from the table, tossing you over his shoulder like a freaking ragdoll. "I'll handle that, then."
"Chris!" You laughed, hanging onto him as he carried you through his apartment and up the stairs to his bathroom.
An hour or so later, you laid in Chris's bed, your eyelids heavy. You should've known his invite to shower wasn't completely innocent, not that you were complaining. But the 3 additional orgasms he'd coaxed out of you made your body feel like a cloud of euphoric mush.
Your fingers raked through Chris's damp hair, his eyelids looked just as heavy as yours felt.
"Truth or drink?"
You laughed, shaking your head slightly. "Well, considering I don't have a drink... Truth."
"Are you nervous about meeting my family?"
"Yes and no. But mostly yes."
He chuckled. "They're gonna love you."
You sighed when his fingertips brushed against your spine, slowly tracing the length of it over and over. "I hope so. You're not getting rid of me, pal."
Chris's lips lowered your temple, peppering kisses against your skin before he finally landed one on your mouth. "Good."
"Truth or drink?" You asked, smiling softly.
He pretended to mull it over for a second, "Hmm.... Truth."
You inhaled a deep breath before exhaling slowly, puffing your cheeks out. "Biggest fear?"
Chris laughed, his chest bouncing against your cheek. "That took a turn." He shook his head. "Um... at the risk of sounding extremely cheesy... Losing you."
You groaned, rolling onto your back away from Chris and draping an arm over your eyes.
"What? Was that too much?" You felt his weight shift, propping himself up on his elbow.
You chuckled at the panic in his voice. "No. I just– How are you so fucking perfect?" You lifted your arm to your forehead, peeking over at him. "Like how did I even hate you?"
He relaxed a little, chuckling. "Well. Where to start? I called you princess, not in a cute manner. It was totally condescending. Umm... God, I accused you of sleeping with the team, didn't I? Jesus, well then–"
You rolled back over, clamping your hand over Chris's mouth. "Okay! Thank you for the reminders, that's enough of that." You laughed, yanking your hand back when Chris licked your palm. "Mature."
He grinned. "Your turn."
"What?"
"Biggest fear."
Taking a deep breath, you rested your crossed arms on his chest, his fingers finding your back once more. "Um..." You swallowed against the knot forming in your throat, a heaviness falling over you like a weighted blanket.
Being with Chris has certainly helped heal the wounds left by your past relationships, but sometimes even Chris couldn't stop the scars from reopening.
Your mind flashed back to your relationship with Dean and how low you felt the entire time. The condescending nicknames, the bullying, the constant need to put you down. It was the lowest that you'd ever been. Some days you felt like you were past it, some days it felt like you were still recovering, like you were right back in the thick of it.
Not that it had anything to do with Chris, but sometimes when you looked in the mirror, you still saw the person that Dean molded you into. Someone weak. Someone who hated your body.
And maybe you'd never be completely over it, but you didn't really think about it when you were with him. It was mostly on the rare nights that you found yourself alone and without Chris. Your past boyfriends never looked at you the way that Chris looks at you. The complete admiration in his eyes was so far unmatched and you didn't plan on seeing if anyone could rival it.
Taking a deep breath, you reached up again to brush a few stray locks of hair from his face. "At the risk of bringing down the mood... My biggest fear is you seeing me the way I see myself."
Chris's hand traveled up your spine, cupping the back of your neck, coaxing you to look up at him. "Princess–" He sighed, taking a second to formulate the thoughts racing through his mind. "I hate that you think that. I hate that–" He sighed, his thumb rubbing softly against the nape of your neck. "I hate that."
His blue eyes bore into yours like he was struggling to put whatever he was thinking into words. "If you saw the way you looked through my eyes, you wouldn't be insecure for one day of your life."
You took a shaky breath, tears clouding your vision.
"You are... so fucking beautiful and I hate that you don't see that." He paused, rolling the two of you so he hovered on top of you. "This mouth..." He shook his head, planting a kiss on your lips before moving down, his kisses traveling from your neck, to your collarbone, to your chest. "Your heart." He moved down a little more, his lips still brushing against your skin lightly. His tongue flicked against the hardened point of your nipple. "Don't even get me started on your tits."
The noise that left your mouth resembled something of a half-laugh, half-sob as he continued to plant kisses lower and lower.
"Every. Fucking. Thing. About you. So. Fucking. Beautiful." Each word was punctuated by a purposeful kiss, like he was attempting to put any broken part of you back together, one piece at a time.
Slowly he moved back up, kissing your stomach, your breasts, your shoulder, and then he was hovering over you once again.
"Everything, Y/N. Your mind, your body, your soul. They have put together the most amazing human being and she's lying naked in my bed thinking she could possibly be anything less than perfect." He kissed away a tear that slipped down your cheek. "You are perfect."
At a loss for words, you shook your head slightly trying to come up with anything that would come close to expressing the feelings that were swirling around in your chest.
"That was a good boyfriend moment." You choked out, Chris's smile matching your own.
Instead of responding, Chris brought his lips to yours. Your legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his back to bring him closer.
The urgency you felt earlier dissipated.
Chris eased himself inside of you and he took you again, slow and deep. You and Chris had sex all the time. But this was different, this was making love. The hungry, desperate kisses shifted to something made of passionate and languorous movements, your bodies tangling together, flesh on flesh.
He peppered kisses all over your body, whispering sweet nothings against your skin and when you came, it shook through your body with an intensity you weren't prepared for. You gripped each other tighter, soaring through the high together before slowly floating back down.
You spent the night wrapped in Chris's arms, the heat of his skin comforting you. And while neither of you said it, you both knew. This was love. You were in love. And there was no going back now.
The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed, but the smell of breakfast wafting through the air. You smiled when you thought back to the night before, your fingertips lightly brushing over the places Chris's lips grazed just hours before.
For the life of you, you couldn't figure out how he'd never had a relationship before you. But it also kind of made sense. Chris had feelings for you that he wouldn't let himself feel with anyone else.
Somehow, you figured out a way to weasel into his heart and you made no plans to leave.
Still smiling, you climbed out of bed, rushing through your morning routine as your stomach growled. He had given you quite the workout last night and your body was demanding a refuel.
You all but skipped down the stairs after throwing on one of Chris's shirts and a pair of underwear you kept stored in his dresser drawer.
Chris stood in the kitchen, grey sweatpants sitting low on his hips, a dishtowel slung over his shoulder. "Hey, you." He smiled up at you as you crossed the apartment.
Your arms flung around his neck, pulling him in and bringing his lips to yours. "Good morning." You pulled away, smiling at him.
He kept one hand on your ass, the other scrambling eggs in a pan on the stove. "You seem happy."
You raised your eyebrows at him. "Do I? Maybe it was the 6 orgasms last night."
"Maybe." He chuckled, kissing your temple. "I was gonna ask how you're feeling, but you seem... very.. Good."
"Very." You laughed, reaching over and plucking a few pieces of green pepper from the cutting board and popping them into your mouth.
"Alright, you freaking alpaca. Go sit before you eat everything."
"Alpaca?" You question, pulling yourself from his arm and walking around to sit at the island.
"Alpaca. You graze. On everything."
You snorted, shaking your head. That was something Marlowe called you out on all the time. If there were edible ingredients on the counter, they were in your mouth.
He plated the eggs, setting in front of you with a fork. "Eat."
You straightened your back, saluting him before picking up the fork. "Yes, sir."
Chris chuckled, turning back towards the stove before he cleared his throat. "We should talk about something."
"Okay." You drew in a breath, holding it on your lungs as he turned to face you.
"This... between us... the secrecy. It's not sustainable. What's the endgame here?"
You twisted your lips to the side, chewing on the inside of your cheek. You knew this talk was coming. It was inevitable. He was right, it wasn't sustainable and living in this happy little bubble where just Connor and Marlowe knew wasn't fair to either of you.
But you weren't sure what to do. Sure, you could quit your job. Chris made more than enough to take care of both of you, but that's not what you really wanted. Although, when it comes down to it, if that's what you had to do to be with him, you would.
You sighed. "I know. We both know that. But..." You paused, looking up at Chris. "Can we save it until after the new year? Let's just enjoy it for the next month and then... we'll figure it out after we get back from Sudbury. Okay?"
He smiled, walking over and kissing your temple. "Okay." He muttered against your skin. "After the new year. We'll figure it out then."