Title: won't crucify the things you do
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,213
Summary: You meet only during the darkness of the night.
Notes: Written for 31_days's June 13 prompt, "Ecstatic from one lie."


You meet only during the darkness of the night, with nothing but the glaring neon lights that adorn every city block lighting your way to your designated meeting spot. The Merry Day Motel is consistently rated as a one star establishment by critics, and all across the internet – and it shows. The building is old, with cracks running up and down the wall, and paint faded due to age. The word “Day” on the sign next to building is not lit, while the second r of “Merry” keeps flickering; there’s almost a rhythm to it, if you stare long enough. But you don’t. No one ever does, everyone’s eyes always take in the dilapidated state of the building and summarily dismiss it. It is for that precise reason that you keep meeting here again and again.

On this particular October night, it is slightly chilly and you have forgotten to bring a jacket. You hug your arms tightly to your chest as a buffer against the cold as you walk hurriedly down the sidewalk toward the motel. When you reach it, you don’t go inside; instead, you glance around the area, and then with an irritated little humph you lean against the wall next to the door. You dig into the brown purse that is slung across your body to take out a pack of menthol cigarettes and a bright orange lighter. You light the cigarette, flagrantly ignoring the “do not smoke” sign nearby. In this neighborhood, no one ever obeys that particular law.

The burn of the cigarette is a welcome relief to your troubled mind, and you stare at the shapes the smoke makes in the darkness. You think to yourself that you will only wait for him until you are finished with the cigarette, and then you will leave. But this, too, is part of the ritual: you’re always on time, he’s always late, you always promise to yourself that you’ll only wait that long, but you always stay longer until he finally arrives.

You extinguish the cigarette against the sidewalk and then walk to the nearest trash can to throw it away. You hover over the trash can for a moment, telling yourself to just walk away and never look back, but ultimately you walk back to the wall and lean against it once more. Fortunately, he’s earlier tonight than he has been in the past, for in the next moment you see him walking towards you. A smile threatens to break out across your face but you tame it before it becomes too wide.

He’s as lovely as he always is, with disheveled dark hair and equally dark eyes. He says nothing as he reaches you, only acknowledging you with a nod before he takes your arm and pulls you away from the wall. You’re utterly compliant as he slips his arm down your back, his hand resting lightly on your ass as he guides you inside the motel. A bell chimes when you walk inside, causing the receptionist to look up from her computer screen. Her eyes briefly flicker with recognition before she dully asks, “How can I help you?”

As always, he takes care of the proceedings, requesting a single queen at an hourly rate. The receptionist makes no comment as she hands him the key and informs him that it’s for room 34B. Silence reigns as you take the elevator up to the third floor and walk to the room. The second the door clicks behind you he’s on you, pushing you up against the wall as he presses his lips against yours. You melt under him as you open your mouth to accept the onslaught of his tongue. One of his hands holds your face as the other teasingly trails down your neck before kneading your breast. You gasp into his mouth before pushing him away to take off your top and your bra. He stares hungrily until your breasts spring free and he doesn’t hesitate to cup both of them into his hands, his thumbs rubbing circles across your nipples. This time you moan and hit your head against the wall. He follows the movement to kiss you again and you oblige him until your breath stutters and you gasp “Bed,” into his mouth.

He moves away to approach the bed, taking his shirt off as he goes. He stops at the edge of the bed to slip off his jeans and then his boxers. You follow suit, stripping down until you are naked. Then he pushes you onto the bed and immediately climbs on top of you, his weight and warmth pressing almost uncomfortably against you. He sucks your neck briefly before mouthing his way down to your breasts where he wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks. You buck up into his mouth and encourage him by snaking your hand between your bodies to grip his erection. A rhythm is built, your strokes keeping in time with the swipes of his tongue until he growls and gets off the bed to dig through his jeans to find his condom. He impatiently slips it on his cock before he returns to you and pushes your legs apart. You’re so wet that he easily slides inside you.

Another rhythm is built, this time you rub your clit in time with his steady, hard thrusts. It doesn’t take long before he throws his head back, gasps and comes. He slides out of you to dispose of the condom while you continue to rub your clit. You’re almost there, and he can tell because he comes back, kneels between your legs and knocks your hand away so he can lick and suck your clit. The effect is immediate: you loudly moan through your orgasm.

You take shuddering breaths as he curls up against you, his head against your shoulder and his hand trailing idly across your body. The light touch sends pulses of heat to your clit but you ignore it to simply enjoy the sensation. It is silent between you again and the realization makes you frown.

“Why are we doing this?” you whisper, finally voicing the question that has been haunting you for weeks.
His kisses up your shoulder to your neck and props himself up to hover above you. He grins. “Because I love you.”

It is a lie. You know this because if it were true, really true, you still wouldn’t be doing this. He would call things off with his fiancée and date you properly, telling the whole world that you are his and he is yours.

But these moments stolen from reality in this motel have no room for the truth, so instead his words light you up from the inside. Pure joy bubbles up within you and you smile your first real smile of the night. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down into an enthused kiss, and when you break apart you say, “I love you too.”

You break your own rules by confessing to the truth, but you are helpless to resist when he is staring down at you like he actually means it. He kisses you again and you respond passionately, dooming yourself to repeat the cycle all over again.