He let my impatient hands roam, pulling off his shirt, working his pants free, but he continued to be slow with me, soft with me.
Even when he slid on a condom and slipped inside me inch by perfect inch, he did it like we had all the time in the world, like his body wasn't as desperate for release as mine was.
He made a low, groaning sound when his cock settled deep, a sound that moved through him, and vibrated into my own chest as my legs lifted, wrapping around his lower back as my arms rested at his shoulders.
Everything about it felt so new, so uncharted. I might as well have been a virgin for how foreign and exciting and scary and exhilarating as this felt.
As his body gently started to rock into mine, I understood a phrase that had always evaded me in the past, something that felt outdated and cringe.
Making love.
It wasn't outdated, something lost in time. Rather, it was something people never slowed down to enjoy anymore. It was something that our hook-up culture would never abide by.
It was sex that was somehow more than sex.
I felt more naked than I ever had been before, stripped bare, right down to my heart, my soul, as he looked down at me, as our bodies moved together, slowly moving toward that perfect catalyst.
Fallon's hand reached for mine, pinning it up near my ear, fingers interlocking with mine.
"Come for me," he murmured, voice soft as his hips rocked.
And not a moment later, I did.
Fallon's mouth covered mine, muffling the sound of my release.
He worked me through mine before finding his own with my name on his lips.
I don't know how long we stayed there after, but I was glad for the weight of him, for his head buried in my neck, not looking down at me, not seeing how affected I felt.
My body felt heavy and sated, yet buzzing and more alive than I'd ever experienced before. There was a warm, floating sensation in my chest as my heartbeat slowed, as my breathing evened out.
As we recovered together, I knew that I'd never felt so vulnerable before, that nothing had ever come close in terms of intimacy.
I should have rebelled against the sensations. I didn't like feeling vulnerable. I didn't want to share that.
But, somehow, I did.
With Fallon.
It made no sense, and I knew it would be useless to try to understand it.
So I didn't.
I just let myself get lost in it, enjoy it, for a few moments.
Until Fallon finally pushed up, looking down at me with heavy-lidded eyes. I knew in that one glance that he was experiencing something similar to what I was.
There was something comforting in that fact, that this was new to both of us, that we were both trying to understand it.
"I'll be right back," he said, voice still soft.
And this man, this surprising man, leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead before moving away from me, and going into the bathroom.
Alone, I folded upward, slipping under the blankets and sheets, feeling the need to have some sort of cover after being so exposed.
Before I could get to thinking too much, though, Fallon was walking back in the room, giving me a boyish smile before grabbing the box.
"Food?" he asked, making his way back to the bed.
"Should be at an edible temperature now," I agreed as he moved in at my side.
"We got our mac & cheese, dinosaur nuggets, and I found some frozen mini tacos. Which we didn't discuss, but..."
"But tacos are always a good idea," I finished for him.
"Exactly," he agreed, passing me a fork.
"You have four dips," I realized aloud, raising my brows.
"Well, I like barbecue on my nuggets. My brother likes ketchup. And my sister likes honey mustard. Don't know what kind of person you are yet." Yet. He said it like he intended to find out all those little things about me. "And sour cream for the tacos. Obviously. I'd have put salsa too if I had it. What?" he asked when I shot him a smile.
"You know how you're kind of an asshole a lot of the time?" I asked.
"Sure," he agreed, unoffended, as he picked up a lump that supposedly looked like some sort of dinosaur.
"Well, because of that, I didn't realize you were a man of many dips."
"A man of many dips," he repeated, letting out a surprised laugh. "I guess I am," he agreed, shooting me a smile. The big kind. And I felt myself momentarily hypnotized by it. "Alright. So you seem to be the movie fanatic."
"I am?" I asked, surprised.
"Twice when I've run into you, you've been on the way back from movies. And since I'm a little indifferent, why don't you pick?" he suggested, reaching to hand me the remote.
"You don't like movies?"