loccent | familiar spaces | we'll be in love by the morning

Meet and Greet events in Eudio tend to fall on the same day every month, and have for the past year and a half been pretty much the same. But Mae has been here for a very long time now, and she has experience in the place - experience in the modernity of it, and the culture, and the demands - so she makes it a point to attend every such event.

She can't realistically speak to every newcomer every month, but she does use that keen people reading skill to pick up the ones that look scared and lost, and introduces herself. Likes being their first (or among the first) point of contact into Eudio, a charming smile and an easy demeanour that tells them it's going to all be okay.

It feels like it has been forever since she made an actual friend at this event, she muses for the fifth time this evening, tapping her fingertips against the bar to get the attention of the bartender. The nod of acknowledgement lets her know that her drink is coming, the usual strawberry cordial cocktail, so she can relax and observe the room.

Meet and Greet didn't use to make her nostalic. It's only been - what, four months now? - four months since she walked up the stairs of a familiar house to find it completely empty, its occupants (one, especially) gone. She shouldn't still be nostalgic about it, but it's a matter of pride. Or something.

She hates missed opportunities. She hates how many of these events she's attended since, with the hopes of seeing his face again. And the fear of seeing it again, and finding no recognition of who she is in it.

"Your drink, miss," says a voice behind her, and she turns her attention there to take the glass.

"Thank you. I'm going to go circulate while it lasts," she says, a forced brightness to her voice, and starts walking out of the indoors space to the terrace at the back. It overlooks the sea, and half the tables are literally on the beach now, and somehow the beach makes her nostalgic too?

"Oh boy," she mutters to herself, "I need to get laid."

He remembers his first time arriving at Eudio. The influx of people, the relief when he spotted Phil and then later, Ana; familiar faces in an unfamiliar place with the promise of a wish -- who could have imagined he'd hang his hopes on wishes -- fulfilled once their part of the bargain was done. He remembers a girl with candy pink hair; friends made and found family. And he remembers, too, how hard it was to go.

Regret is a terrible thing. It eats at you, claws at your insides and occasionally keeps you up at night.

He's dressed down and out of uniform. He's got two beers pinched between the fingers of his left hand, his shoes dangling from the fingers of his right. And for a moment, as he scans the crowd for familiar faces (no luck there), he wonders if he'd hoped for far too much.

Maybe she's gone home, he thinks. Maybe coming back was just a stab at the impossible.

She finds a young man who has new here practically tattooed on his forehead, and speaks to him for a while, giving him a brief summary of what he'll need to know for the first week to not be weird.

That's the usual stuff: take it easy, you're safe, nobody is forcing you to have sex right away if you don't want to, also let me know if you need a lesson on contraceptives.

Judging by his old looking robes, that'll be a useful tip.

When the conversation comes to its natural end, she has run out of drink and out of patience to stay. She said to to Johnny once, two months ago: she doesn't want to be the girl who waits, and pines for someone.

She'll go get a glass of water, maybe steal a banana from the fruit basket, and make her way home.

Out of pure habit, she takes out her phone and does the same thing she's done at each of these events. She texts Josh's phone number, while he was here:

still here
if you remember me
if you've come back
please come say hello
miss you - again and again.

He chats up a couple of people -- and gets chatted up equally in return. It surprises him how everything comes easier than it did the first time around when Phil had to steal his phone so that Ana could actually set up his profile on Cuddlr.

He can see the hopeful looks on the faces of several people who match him with his profile (he got the keys to the flat back, his phone, his accounts -- all reactivated upon re-entry) fade when it's clear he's warm, but distracted. There are a lot of sorrys and offers to connect and meet up at a later date. Truth is, while he will make good on them, there's a slim chance that things will go anywhere while he's got Mae on the brain.

Making his way back to his car now, all "people'd out", as Kaya would say and drops his keys momentarily as the buzzing of his phone distracts him.

He only checks the number and message once he's settled into the driver's seat -- and frankly? His heart lodges itself in his throat for a full minute.

She's here. She's still here.

spare key behind the fifth brick from the bottom
same as before

He takes a breath; adds:

missed you more

She has made some progress, going back home. She's almost halfway there - luckily she doesn't live far from the Meet and Green party - when the phone buzzes in her pocket. At this point, the little alcohol that was in that cocktail has worn off, and she is steadily approaching the second stage of the night which is a sort of exhaustion.

It's hard to keep hope high for this long and not feel the weight of it.

She's so distracted that when the phone buzzes, she thinks it might be any one of the friends she still has lurking about, and ignores it for the next two blocks. On the steps to her building, she pulls her phone out together with her keys, and sees the screen flash with a name that freezes her blood: Josh.

holy SHIT

Is the answer she shoots back, after scrambling and fumbling to get the screen unlocked. Her hands are shaking, her breath is shaking, and a hysterical little laugh escapes her before she can help it.

wait for me
don't go anywhere
i'm coming

And with that, she does something entirely uncharacteristic: she runs. It's a good thing that Eudio is a relatively small town, but it still feels like his old flat is all the way across town from hers. She crosses the market, crosses the park. Hell, she's running! What man can say she's ever done that for him?

"Please don't be a fake text, please don't be a fake text, please don't be a fake text."

There's something about her response that finally allows him to breathe. He's tempted to respond, to let her know that he's on his way and that he won't be going anywhere anytime soon, but he tosses his phone to the empty passenger seat and drives.

This means that he gets to his apartment shortly before she does. That he runs up the steps to check if she's inside only to discover that their little hiding place for the space hasn't been touched.

He doesn't bother to go inside, just jogs back down those steps to head back to where his car's parked on the curb and looking towards one end of the street to the other.

What if I go and she's not there? He's flashing back to packing for the trip, Philip and the rest lounging in various spots in his apartment back at base.

Brennan. Ana. Waiting by the door, duffel at the ready and wholly entertained by the fact that he was sweating bullets. Don't self-reject. And I will be pissed enough for the both of us if we don't get to see her again.

Mae will find him standing like that, looking oddly young given the expression on his face -- even if he's a little older now that the last time they met.

There's a primal kind of sound that gets pulled out of her, like a whimper but...louder, when she sees him. Standing there, looking like himself, looking like exactly the kind of person who'd steal her breath away every fucking day, if they weren't so damn stupid and stubborn about it.

Seeing him again also sends pleasure down her spine, makes her throat feel tight, her head feel light.

She stands there, frozen in one spot just looking at him from maybe twenty feet apart, still catching her breath. The lets out a laugh - he's back! - and runs the rest of the way to throw herself at him for a hug.

"I thought I'd...never..."

She's not going to finish that sentence. Largely because once the hug registers that she's here, she's real -- he's tipping her chin up so he can kiss her precisely the way he's regretted not doing so ever since they had to leave.

There had been all the excuses, really. She was younger than him. Her friendship meant the world to him. They were eventually going to leave.

None of those excuses had turned out good enough in the end. Because as the days wore on back home, he'd thought about her, worried about her, and wondered incessantly if she was okay.

I say this because I loved you and I always will even if it's not that way, Josh: why the fuck didn't you do something about this girl?

Beth, one night on a rooftop sharing a bottle of her favorite wine, as they caught up on the changes in their lives since his deployment to Silay years and years ago.

When he eases back, it's because he knows they both need to breathe. But he holds Mae close; his forehead gently pressed against hers. "I was looking for you on the beach. The Meet and Greet. I thought you'd be there."

She doesn't have a chance to catch her breath, or finish the thought of Never thought I'd see you again, and you'd remember me. He is back, the same familiar scent, the same all-consuming hug, but then the unfamiliar terrain comes.

He kisses her. He will hear her sharp intake of air just as his lips touch hers, and the way she will melt after two seconds, exhaling through her nose and pulling him closer to kiss him back. Toes curled, fingers in his hair, her heart in her throat. It's like her whole body right now is saying Finally! Because - finally!

When he eases back, she does catch her breath, but she's still chasing him a little, enough to let her lips graze his again, just to make sure that was a thing. That just happened.

"I was," she murmurs after a bit, opening her eyes to meet his gaze so close. "I didn't see you. There's been a lot more people this time, and I've been...it's been almost half a year, but I kept coming..."

He listens, letting all of that sink in. Trying to stay the urge to kick himself because, well -- she waited.

"I'm so glad you texted."

He wasn't planning on just leaving if he didn't find her right away. But he saw the crowd. There are more people coming to Eudio. A lot more than the last time he was here.

He traces the pad of his thumb along the curve of her cheek, just so quietly grateful that this is the real deal.

"Just so you know--" brow furrowing now, "I think I might have to kiss you again. Just to kind of, um. Let it sink in that I can do that now."

She didn't, after all, push him away.

"Can't believe they gave you the same phone back," she murmurs, nuzzling into his hand. "Don't check backdated messages, I've been...kind of pathetic." She has been texting him exactly the same thing, every month, after every Meet and Greet. Waiting is one thing. What Mae's done counds as something far more desperate, and potentially...dumb.

But the promise of another kiss makes her a little dizzy, and she lets out a choked little laugh. "You idiot. You could've done that a lot sooner than now, too."

To prove her point, she drags him down for another kiss first, her fingers hooked into the collar of his shirt to have where to tug. He had the element of surprise on him the first time, but this time she has the element of whatever you want to call the promise to never waste this opportunity ever again.

So - she kisses him slow, and deepy, and plays dirty. No-one will come out of it thinking it was platonic. He won't come out of it thinking he's her older brother figure.

He had plans. Take her out to dinner kind of plans. Bring her flowers kind of plans. But when she pulls him down for a follow-up kiss those plans might just have to wait.

There is nothing chaste about the way her mouth is moving under his. And nothing about the way that he responds that will excuse him later. So he leans in, pulls her close; fingers curling on her hips as he responds in kind.

"Mae," he murmurs, "we should probably go inside."

Because while yes, this is Eudio, he'd rather not press her up against the hood of his car when his thoughts are far, far from PG13.

Luckily, save for a few freak meteorological occasions, the climate in Eudio is more than just mild, rendering itself the perfect place for Mae to wear dresses in. At this point she's gathered up a whole collection, and the one she wore today has a vintage look (from her historical standpoint anyway). Black with red flowers, short sleeves with a heartshaped neckline, with buttons running down from top to bottom down the centre. It flares out from the hips, and falls down to her knees, and as he sets his hands on her waist, all she can think of is that she hopes he doesn't even take it off, just pulls it up and touches her. Right here.

Of course, he has other ideas. She sighs, dramatically. "I guess, if you've gotta be practical about it." With a last kiss to the side of his neck, she takes a whole step back.

Gives him a pointed look: lead the way, then.

Here's a slight tilt of the head sent her way.

Slowly now: "Did you have... something else in mind?"

He didn't have time to register her dress before, but since she's stepped back a bit he finds his gaze drawn to the dip of that neckline and remembers how light the fabric was beneath his hands.

Closing that gap between them with a step of his own, one hand coming up to trace fingers over the bare skin of her arm. "I'd hate to disappoint." Teasing, teasing.

She doesn't take a step back, doesn't get crowded against his car (of course he'd get the car back right away, fucker), even if she really wants to. Instead, she stands her ground, and only shivers a little when he touches her, a little whimper locked in her throat.

"Oh...fuck," she whispers under her breath, "this hits a lot of guilty fantasies."

She bites her lower lip and looks up at him, trying hard not to pant already. On the street.

"Okay." A quick lick of her lips, and she nods. "Okay, let's go inside. I'm still trying to figure out if you're a dream or really back, I think inside is a better idea...for talking and...mm, other stuff..." He is such a tease, and it works. It all works.

Keep licking your lips, Mae Crawford, and he might be tempted to kiss you again.

Instead, he slips his hand into hers, fingers easing themselves in the spaces between her own. "I'm really back." A sober response, this time. Because he gets it. He's half worried that he might wake up back home again; hence the need to touch her just to remind himself that he won't.

He'll lead her back up towards the apartment, drawing her up against his side with each consecutive step. "So," he starts, as they go up the stairs. "Guilty fantasies, huh?"

This is a gentle look of: go on, please.

She follows him upstairs, still floating a bit, until he brings up that question. "Oh sure, you heard that," she mutters, then nudges him with her elbow. "Come on. I've been drooling after you for ages now."

They're still in the hallway, and so it feels almost safe to say this part: "Of course I had fantasies. I had a lot of wishful thinking, too. And some crushed dreams to go with it all."

He stops at that, turns to her and lifts his free hand to caress her cheek. "You never said anything."

But even as he says it, he can put things together: he'd kept her at arm's length deliberately, even after multiple occassions where the opportunity to signal her for more presented itself. So, he amends that statement. "Then again, neither did I."

"You're not the only one who wrestled with guilty fantasies."

She can't help the little expression of disbelief. "You honestly think I never gave you any signs about that?" she asks quietly. "Ana was so loud in her teasing, I honestly thought...that you knew, and was trying to keep me at arm's length on purpose because you weren't interested."

She pouts, nudges her way past him and walks up to the doorway of his old flat. "I better hear all about those fantasies now."

He lets her pass and slips the keys into her hands as he comes up behind her. He isn't going to lie. He's glad he gets to come back here; as if Eudio knew he might return - and that he'd prefer the private space he, Phil and Ana had taken as theirs, instead of settling somewhere else.

Coming up behind Mae now and caging her a little against the door.

"Ana teased because she knew I liked you and was agonizing over it. I honestly thought she was doing it to clue you in." Juarez was dependable like that. He should have figured that she'd attempt to hit two birds with one stone.

"For the record, I always wondered what it would be like if we got the flat to ourselves -- without a snowstorm making me feel like I might be taking advantage of you."

One hand on the small of her back now, fingers indulging in the feel of her dress' fabric.

Oh yes, that snowstorm brings back good memories, of him trying to give her a footrub to warm her feet, and her falling asleep on their couch, plied with mulled wine and hot chocolate alike.

The surprise touch makes her fumble a little, key missing the keyhole a few times, as the graze of his fingers against her back, through the thin fabric of the dress and all, is enough to make her nearly have an orgasm in the building hallway.

She lets out a shaky breath and leans her forehead against the still locked door, trying to focus.

"And...are you going to show me what you'd do?" Key finds the lock, and she twists, and pushes the door open. "Or just talk about it?"

What is it about seeing her fumble that lock that he feels like he's not likely to keep things in his pants. Not that either of them are likely to object that this point, really.

The door is open, which makes it easy for him to nudge her inside, close it right behind them, and then loop an arm around her waist to draw her up because he needs to kiss her again. So he does.

"We can still talk about it," gently nipping at her lower lip at that. "I can multitask."

Talk? About something? Right, they were talking about something, but her brain is a bit fried now. He has the right presence of mind to pull them both into the flat, and close the door behind him, which means that her low moan is not heard by anyone else but the two of them, thankfully.

There is no more fumbling now. She chases his mouth for another kiss, and her toes practically curl in her shoes when he bites her lip like that.

"Tease." She crushes her lips against his again, impatient. "Hope you didn't have plans for the next few days, Josh," she warns him between kisses, "I'm keeping you here."

"My only plans involved you." He murmurs that against her mouth, even as he picks her up; one arm wrapping around her torso as he leans his shoulders back against the door for balance, his free hand guiding one leg to wrap around his waist.

No beating around the bush this time; no dancing around the feelings between them both. There's a flutter in his chest, and if he's smiling as he leans into those kisses, it's only because this is finally -- finally sinking in.

"Couch?" He asks, breathless.

"Yeah," she manages, because at this point anywhere will do. She wraps both legs around his waist, because when he picks her up it's not like she can touch the ground anymore anyway. The skirt of her dress slips down, bunches at her hips, leaving her pressed against him with nothing but a single layer of barrier.

A giddy little laugh escapes her, interrupting the kiss. She leans her forehead against his. "This is so hot."

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