Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/435601. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Ca...
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Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/435601. Rating: Archive Warning: Category: Fandom: Relationship: Character: Stats:
Explicit No Archive Warnings Apply F/M Doctor Who RPF Alex Kingston/Matt Smith Alex Kingston, Matt Smith, Karen Gillan, Arthur Darvill Published: 2012-06-16 Words: 16543
Get up and shake the glitter off your clothes now by mygalfriday (BrinneyFriday) Summary
Sometimes what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Other times, it's smeared all over every paper on the continent.
Notes
This was meant to be a relatively short oneshot (shut up, Marta!) but it did not work out that way, obviously. And I’m sorry about the title but I HAD TO. WARNING: For those who aren’t into this sort of thing, please be aware that this fic contains rimming.
Something isn’t quite right.
Or more to the point, something is quite wrong.
She can’t put her finger on it but she knows. If she opened her eyes, she might be able to tell but the moment she tries, sunlight burns her retinas and she groans, pulling her blankets over her head and squeezing her eyes shut again.
Oh. Bad hangover. Very bad hangover.
She can’t remember the last time she felt quite so shitty. But a pounding head and growing nausea isn’t what’s wrong. It’s something else – something that niggles worryingly in the back of her mind, like a misplaced word that’s just on the tip of her tongue. Breathing deeply in an attempt to quell the roiling of her stomach, Alex tries to remember.
Some memories are clearer than others. She distinctly remembers Karen’s pleading phone call from Vegas. She and the boys had been in their post-Comic Con high, rambunctious and just as ridiculous as always. It’s so rare for them all to be in the States at once and so near each other. With Salome staying with her father for the week, Alex had decided to join them.
She’d met them at a bar and they drank together for a while before Karen went off to join her boyfriend and Arthur left to Skype with his girlfriend, both of them promising to meet up in the morning for breakfast. Alex had been left alone with Matt and –
Oh.
Oh god.
--
“Well we’re a sorry sight, aren’t we darling?” Alex slides another shot in his direction. It’s starting to look a bit like two or maybe even four shots at this point because her vision is blurred from the alcohol but she’s pretty sure it’s actually only one. 95% sure.
Okay, maybe 85%.
Which is good considering how many of these she’s had. At the moment, she can’t remember the number but she’s sure it’s very impressive. Raising her own shot glass, she clinks it against Matt’s, missing only twice before managing to hit it. “To the lonely hearts club,” she slurs.
Matt knocks back his shot and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “m’ never lonely when I’m with you, Kingston.”
She smiles. “That’s sweet, dear. If only every man could be like you.”
He looks insulted. “Who needs every man when you’ve got me?”
Alex giggles, reaching for the bottle of tequila – they’d long ago requested the bartender just leave it with them. Tilting the bottle, she spills a generous amount into their glasses and says, “Very true. Don’t think I could handle more than one of you.”
“You’d like it,” he leers, and she rolls her eyes. “Bottom’s up.”
They drink.
Wincing at the burn, Matt doesn’t even bother to wipe his mouth this time and Alex finds herself mesmerized by the way his wet lips glisten in the low light of the bar, red and full, slick with alcohol. She has the strangest urge to lean forward and lick away the droplets. She starts to do just that, placing her hands on his knees to lean in when she realizes he’s speaking to her and she blinks, slowly looking up into his eyes and trying to focus.
“What I need, Kingston, is someone like you.”
She stares, puzzled. “But I’m right here.”
He brightens. “That you are. And you are brilliant.”
She flushes and decided to blame it on the alcohol. “So are you, dear.”
“We’re both brilliant,” he exclaims, throwing his arms wide and nearly toppling from his barstool. “And together we could be even brillianter.”
“A force of nature,” she agrees, pouring them another shot.
He slides his glass across the bar, long fingers wrapping around it and Alex finds herself terribly distracted again. “Y’know, no one gets me like you do, Alex. An’ I don’t think anybody ev’r
will.”
“That’s because ‘m brilliant, remember?”
“Oh. Right.” He gulps down his next shot and her eyes are immediately drawn to the way the muscles in his throat flex as he swallows. Slamming his glass down on the bar, he turns his eyes to her and her breath catches at how dark they suddenly are, like black, fathomless pools as he gazes at her. “Gorgeous, too. Always thought so.”
Her heart hammers in her chest. “Always?”
He hums, leaning forward in his seat and places his hands on her thighs for balance. His face is inches from hers and she can feel his hot breath against her mouth and smell the tequila they’ve been drinking. His eyes meet hers and she loses herself for a moment in their darkness as he murmurs, “Always, always.” His mouth brushes over hers once quickly, and then moves away to trail across the line of her jaw before she has a chance to respond. “V’ry first time I met you, all I could think was so -” he kisses her jaw “- bloody -” a peck at the spot just below her ear “gorgeous.” His tongue traces over her earlobe, hot and intoxicating.
Alex whimpers and clutches at his shirt, distantly wondering why she isn’t a steaming puddle on the floor. “God, Matt -”
He pulls away quickly, staring at her with a strange look on his face, as though enlightened. “We should get married.”
She blinks. “What?”
“You and me. Two brilliant people who are so lonely,” he sighs, watching her with something resembling a pout. “And I am lonely, Alex. ‘cept around you.” His brow furrows. “Are you lonely, Alex?”
Chest tight, she thinks of her lonely bed and her lonely dinners and everything else she does completely alone, and nods.
“Then let’s be lonely together.” He smiles and then with all the grace of a giraffe on stilts, slides from his barstool and kneels in front of her, staring up at her with big hazel eyes and a drop of tequila still clinging to his upper lip. “Marry me, Kingston?”
tequila still clinging to his upper lip. “Marry me, Kingston?”
Alex stares down at him for a moment, contemplative. Then, she takes a deep breath. “Okay.”
--
Stupid. So, so stupid.
Honestly, what the hell had she been thinking? Agreeing to marry her much younger costar just because they were both drunkenly lonely? Matt’s loneliness can be easily rectified, plenty of girls would be more than happy to make sure he’s never lonely a day in his life. But Alex…well, she has just reached an entirely new level of pathetic, heretofore unexplored by single women in their forties. She is uncovering whole new territories of pathetic.
Well, at least it had ended there. She can’t quite remember, but she’s hoping they’d gotten a lot more sloshed and then gone back to the hotel. Maybe nothing more horrible will come out of this than Matt teasing her for agreeing to marry him – if he even remembers proposing.
Next to her, the blankets move.
It’s at this point that Alex realizes she isn’t wearing any clothes.
She freezes, listening to the rustling beside her followed by a sleepy sigh as her bedmate settles back in. She’d gotten drunk with Matt last night, agreed to marry him and now someone is lying in bed with her, probably just as naked as she is. The pieces are fitting together in a rather alarming way.
Please, oh please no. Any random stranger just please not Matt. It will ruin everything and she’ll never be able to look him in the eye again. Heart in her throat, Alex decides to brave the sunlight waiting outside her nest of blankets. Lifting her head and squinting in the light, she ignores the pounding in her temple and stares at the sight that greets her.
Matt lies on his back, limbs sprawled out and his fringe in his eyes as he sleeps, his mouth slightly open and the faintest hint of stubble on his chin. The sheet covers him from the waist down, but there are several bright red marks on his chest that suggest someone was a very enthusiastic biter. Alex swallows, sitting up slowly so as not to upset her stomach any further, and quietly panics.
Okay. Breathe. He’s in her bed and shirtless, and definitely rather ravished looking but still. Maybe they hadn’t.
Biting her lip, Alex lifts the sheet, peering underneath and then quickly replacing it again.
Yes. All right. Matt is definitely just as naked as she is.
She wants to deny it, wants to crawl back under the covers and wait for all of this to go away but there is no overlooking the evidence with Matt in the state he’s in and her in the state she’s in – mind buzzing and body pleasantly, wonderfully, deliciously sore in all the right ways. They’d slept together. She had actually slept with Matt. The panic is there, deep down, but at the moment she’s numb and her mind is divided – one half is dancing about with joy because well, he’s Matt and she isn’t exactly impervious to his charms, and the other half is pouting because she can’t even remember it.
Which isn’t really what she should be upset about right now. Even her own mind refuses to cooperate. Alex tears her eyes away from Matt’s sleeping form – he looks even younger when he’s asleep – and puts her aching head in her hands, wondering what in the hell they’re going to do now.
Rubbing her hand over her face, she spots it.
Gasping, she pulls her hand away and stares, her throat closing up. There, sitting prettily on her ring finger and glinting golden in the sunlight, is a wedding band.
Fuck.
--
After she agrees, Matt stands and sweeps her into his arms, kissing her soundly. Alex laughs and wraps her arms around his neck, opening her mouth under his with a sigh. Hands tight around her waist, he nips at her bottom lip and whispers, “Our wedding night is going to be amazing.”
She smiles, kissing him quickly. “When?”
“Now?” He frowns, and then nods decisively. “Yes. Now.”
“Right now?” She looks at him in disbelief.
“We’re in Vegas, my Alex Kingston.” He slurs, nuzzling her cheek. “We could be married an’ having a fan-fuckin’-tastic honeymoon shag within an hour.”
She shivers, licking her lips. “Now.”
Matt grins, grabbing her hand to pull her along and then stops abruptly right at the door. “Hang on.” He brings her hand up to his face, looking closely. “You don’t have a ring.”
She shakes her head. “You haven’t given me one, darling.”
“Oh, right,” he kisses her fingertips. “First thing’s first then.”
As he pulls her out of the bar and onto the pavement outside, Alex clings to his arm and tries to keep up with his long strides – even three sheets to the wind, he moves quickly. “You’re going to get me a ring?”
“Course I am,” he says, looking down at her with a sloppy smile. “Can’t be Mrs. Smith if I don’t get you a ring. Then you’ll still be lonely Alex Kingston and I don’t like that.” He stops right in the middle of the pavement and Alex stumbles into him, happily leaning close when he pulls her in and presses his lips against her cheek, mumbling, “Don’t like it when you’re sad. I’ll make you happy.”
Alex swallows, looking up at him with wide eyes. “With a ring?”
He smiles. “With ev’rything.”
Her, Mrs. Smith. She rather likes the sound of that.
They find a pawnshop a few blocks away and stumble inside to the jewelry counter, excited and
giggling. Matt points to a princess cut diamond sparkling under the case lights.
Alex frowns, brow furrowed. “Don’t we need wedding rings? We’ve sort of skipped the whole engagement thing, darling.”
He pouts. “I want you to have one anyway.”
“Later,” she says, putting a hand on his chest and leaning into him because it’s certainly much easier than standing on her own. Except Matt isn’t quite balanced either and he flails before grabbing her hips and they stand there for a moment, steadying each other and laughing.
“Promise?” He asks, turning to look at the engagement rings wistfully.
She nods, kissing his throat. “Married first. Engagement ring later.”
He giggles. “How backwards. Very us.”
She hums her agreement, fingers finding their way under his t-shirt. Across the counter, the shopkeeper clears his throat pointedly, eyeing them with disdain. “Can I help you with something?”
“We need rings,” Alex says, not taking her eyes from Matt.
He turns to look at the shopkeeper with a grin. “We’re getting married.”
The man harrumphs and unlocks the case, pulling out a tray of rings and setting it on the counter, mumbling about drunks all the while. They ignore him, bending over the rings and inspecting them closely. It doesn’t take them long to find a simple set of gold bands – antique, if the shopkeeper is to be believed. They pay for them and Matt slips them into his pocket as they stroll out of the shop with all the grace of happy drunks, which is to say, none at all.
Finding a chapel takes even less time than finding a ring had – they walk into the first one they come across, just down the block from the pawnshop. They smile goofily at one another all through the ceremony, holding hands – both for balance and just because they want to.
When the Elvis impersonator snaps his Bible shut and says over the sound of Jailhouse Rock, “You may kiss the bride,” Matt presses his mouth to hers eagerly, and Alex laughs. He winds one arm around her waist and cups her face in his other hand and she imagines she can feel his wedding ring against her cheek.
--
Panic welling up in her chest; Alex turns her horrified gaze from her own wedding ring to look for Matt’s. His hand rests on his stomach and his ring is clearly visible, a thick gold band that matches her own smaller one. On the nightstand next to him lies a crumpled marriage certificate and a stack of polaroids. Alex makes a distressed noise in the back of her throat, her stomach rolling dangerously.
They’re married.
Under the sheet, Matt stirs at the noise she’d made, scrunching up his face at the sun and groaning. “Bloody hell,” he mumbles, bringing a hand up to cover his face. Alex doesn’t move, taking in the few precious seconds before it hits him and he remembers – before he realizes she’s next to him and everything changes.
He must open his eyes beneath his hand because Alex can tell by the suddenly taut lines of his body that he has spotted the ring on his finger. Very slowly, he lifts his hand away from his face and sees her sitting up, the sheet clutched to her chest as she stares at him with wide eyes.
He stares back in silence for a moment and she imagines everything must be flooding back to him in one horrible flashback of the night before. She waits to see the panic register in his eyes, but it doesn’t. Instead, he looks at her with gentleness in his gaze, watching her like she’s a frightened gazelle about to make a run for it.
“Good morning,” he says softly, eyes dropping to the ring on her finger. “Erm, wife.”
At that word coming from his mouth, her stomach flip-flops and finally decides to rebel. She barely manages to shove away the bed sheet and stumble to the bathroom in time. Kneeling in front of the toilet, she throws up last night’s tequila, tears streaming down her face. Even after she’s through, her stomach continues to heave and it does nothing to help the pounding in her head.
Oh god, this is so bad. When the press hears about this, she is finished. She’ll never have a career again and Steven will probably fire her because a drunken marriage in Vegas with the show’s star isn’t exactly appropriate for children. What will her daughter say? What about their friends? And Matt. Her lovely, comfortable and flirtatious relationship with Matt is gone now. Absolutely nothing will ever be the same.
She fucking hates tequila.
She feels a warm hand on her back and then Matt kneeling beside her, pulling her hair out of her face and murmuring softly to her. “Ssh, it’s alright, love. Calm down.” It’s then that she realizes she’s been talking out loud, crying in between heaving into the toilet bowl. She takes a deep, shuddering breath that sounds more like a sob. She isn’t even wearing any clothes but it’s not like it matters anyway, he’s already seen everything whether she remembers it or not. She got married last night. She married Matt and he’d probably shagged her blind afterward and she can’t even remember. Her life ruined for a wedding night she has no memory of.
She couldn’t have fucked up more if she tried.
As if sensing her continuing inner turmoil, Matt shushes her again. “Breathe, sweetheart.” The hand not holding back her hair rubs her back soothingly, warm fingers trailing up and down her spine until she finally relaxes and slumps back against him, wiping her mouth. “Finished?”
She nods faintly, pale and worn out.
He reaches up to flush the toilet and Alex catches another glimpse of the ring on his finger, whimpering. “You know,” he says softly, standing and pulling her to her feet. “When I imagined myself getting married, this isn’t exactly how I pictured the honeymoon.”
She stares at him, letting him hold her wrists because she doesn’t yet trust the strength of her own legs. “Why aren’t you upset right now?”
“I think you’re upset enough for the both of us, Kingston,” he says softly, leading her to the sink.
She swishes mouthwash around in her mouth for a moment, but when she accidentally glances in the mirror, she bends over the sink and spits before she sprays it all over the mirror. Down her throat and across her chest is a trail of marks – there is one spectacularly glaring red one right above her nipple and another on the side of her breast. Apparently she isn’t the only one who likes to bite.
“Oh god,” she whispers, horrified.
Standing behind her, Matt smiles weakly, glancing down at his chest and muttering, “Apparently we wanted to match.”
Turning quickly before she has the urge to be sick again, she stumbles out of the bathroom and swallows at the sight of their clothes strewn about the room. She marches to her suitcase in the corner and begins to rummage through it. Having any kind of a serious conversation with Matt is not going to happen while naked. She clasps her bra behind her back, pulling the straps up her arms, and then pulls a dress over her head.
Behind her, zipping up his jeans, Matt clears his throat as she fluffs her hair and turns to face him. “You’re…not wearing knickers.”
“So?”
He swallows. “Do you…ever wear knickers?”
She huffs. “Sometimes. Why?”
“No reason,” he says, glancing away quickly. “So, erm…” He holds up his hand, displaying his wedding ring and Alex falters, heart fluttering. “Married.”
“Yes,” she says, voice strained. “So it would seem.”
He sighs. “Alex, I -”
On the nightstand, her mobile rings. More than a little relieved to have a temporary reprieve from the no doubt awkward conversation about to ensue, Alex darts for her phone, snatching it up and glancing at the screen.
Bugger.
Matt watches her anxiously. “Who is it?”
“Karen.” She bites her lip. “Should I answer it?”
“She’ll just keep calling if you don’t.”
Alex sighs, answering the phone and pressing it to her ear. Before she can even say ‘hello’, Karen’s loud Scottish voice comes over the line and Alex winces, her head still pounding. “Bloody hell, finally! I’ve called three times and I was just about to come after you. Are we getting breakfast or what?”
Alex pales. “B-breakfast?”
No. She is absolutely not sitting through breakfast with Matt right across the table, pretending they hadn’t gotten married and shagged like rabbits last night. Not happening.
Matt, however, has other ideas. He nods frantically, gesturing with his hands. She frowns at him but when he continues to gesticulate emphatically, she rolls her eyes and says, “Yes. Of course, dear. It just…slipped my mind.”
“Long night, huh?”
She chokes. “What?”
“You and Matt were out drinking, yeah? Speaking of, have you heard from him? I’ve tried calling him but the sod won’t answer. Arthur even went to his room but no one came to the door. Lazy arse is probably sleeping off his hangover. See if you can get him, will you?”
Alex winces, glancing down and spotting the marriage certificate on the nightstand, their signatures visible. “Right. Yes. I’ll see what I can do.” Hanging up, she tosses her phone onto the rumpled bed sheets and tries to breathe deeply – this morning has been awful enough without having a panic attack right in front of Matt. Kneeling on the floor naked and throwing up in front of him is humiliation enough. “What are we going to do?”
Matt smiles. “Go to breakfast.”
“I wasn’t talking about that.” She scowls, hurriedly looking away from the certificate on the nightstand glaring up at her, taunting her with her latest mistake in a long line of many. “Anyway, I’m not hungry.”
“It’ll make you feel better,” he says, watching her closely, as if she’s in danger of breaking at any moment. “We’ll talk after, yeah? You need time to calm down anyway.”
“I am calm,” she snaps, and he raises an eyebrow. “I don’t understand why you’re so bloody relaxed about the whole thing. You just married your forty-nine year old co-worker in a fit of drunken whimsy, Matt. Do you have any idea what people will say?”
“I don’t care about other people,” he says, voice raised for the first time this morning. “You’re what I’m worried about right now – you’re my friend, Alex and I don’t want to lose you over this. But I can’t talk about that until I’ve at least had some bloody coffee, alright?”
Stunned into silence, she nods once, watching him turn from her and run his hand through his hair. His ring catches in the light and she looks away. “If we’re going, then we should take the rings off.”
Matt nods, turning around to face her again. “Right.” He twists his ring off his finger and stuffs it hurriedly into his pocket. Then, he stares at his bare hand for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face. Alex slips off her ring and carefully places it in her handbag without glancing at it. Matt finally looks up with a smile. “So. Breakfast, wife?”
She flinches visibly, stomach somersaulting again and she can’t tell if it’s nausea or a little thrill shooting through her at the name – which is troubling in itself.
He purses his lips, contrite. “Sorry.”
“It’s alright, darl -” She stops halfway through her favorite pet name for him. It doesn’t feel appropriate now, after what’s happened. “It’s fine.”
She doesn’t miss the shadow that passes over his expression before he nods and turns from her, pulling his shirt over his head and locating his boots. Ignoring the knot of regret in her chest, she
begins the search for her converse.
When they finally make it down to the lobby after a very awkward lift ride and find Karen and Arthur waiting for them by the doors, Alex is ready to turn around and go back to her hotel room. Hiding under the covers seems like the best option for today.
She pulls her sunglasses down over her eyes and accepts Karen’s hug with the widest smile she can muster. “So how’s the hangover?”
“Well I popped a few paracetamol in the lift, so hopefully gone soon,” she says as Karen pulls her out the door, Arthur and Matt trailing behind. “How was your date?”
“It was good,” she says, linking her arm through Alex’s. “How was yours?”
Eyes wide, Alex freezes. “What?”
“Well you went out with your husband last night, didn’t you?”
“What?!”
Oh my god. How does she know? Does everyone? Oh this is not good at all, not –
From behind her, Matt says hurriedly, “Yes, Kingston. The Doctor and River out on the town, remember?”
Karen smirks at her.
Oh. Right.
“I don’t remember much of it,” she mumbles, looking away.
“Sounds kinky.”
Alex flushes and says nothing, feeling the phantom weight of a wedding ring on her left hand. They walk the rest of the way to the diner in silence, taking a corner booth in the back. Not up for their usual chatter, she immediately buries her face in a menu.
“Oh don’t bother,” Karen says, laughing. “We’ll be here forever.”
Alex glances over the top of her menu, insulted, to find them all grinning at her. “Excuse me?”
“You can’t make a decision when there are so many choices and we all know it,” she says. “You’ll have pancakes like the rest of us. There, easy.”
“And if I don’t want pancakes?”
Arthur prods at her menu with his index finger. “Then what do you want?”
Alex peruses the breakfast section with a frown. “Eggs. Or sausage.” She spots the French toast and bites her lip. “Well, maybe -”
Snorting as Karen and Arthur begin to laugh, Matt tugs playfully at her menu and says, “Why don’t you just have a little bit of everything and save yourself the inner turmoil, Kingston?”
Except it’s not Kingston anymore, is it? Not really.
Her eyes dart from his hand – devoid of his ring – to his smiling face, though the grin doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
Hazel eyes burning into hers as long fingers slide over her naked waist and leave a fiery trail in their wake. “Mrs. Smith,” he whispers, and she shudders in his arms.
Alex blinks hard and shoves away the memory, her mouth suddenly dry. With a shaking hand, she deposits her menu on the stack in the middle of the table and clears her throat. “Pancakes it is.”
Their waitress comes to the table with her eyes on her notepad, pulling her pencil from the messy bun on top of her head. “What’ll it be?”
Matt orders the same thing for all of them and deliberately not looking at him; Alex can see the exact moment their waitress recognizes his voice. Eyes widening, she glances up from her notepad with a grin.
“Well hello,” she says, eyes on Matt. “I didn’t know you all were in Vegas.”
“Keeping a low profile,” Matt smiles, putting a finger to his lips.
The girl fiddles with a loose tendril of hair, winking. “Right. My lips are sealed. Having a good time?”
Matt doesn’t even flinch, his smile frozen in place. “The best.”
Annoyed at being ignored for Matt, Karen pipes up with, “We’re thinking about hitting a few clubs tonight. Know any good ones?”
“Oh sure,” the girl says. “I could show you a few if you want. My shift ends at five.”
She says it like she’s offering them all a guided tour but she hasn’t once looked away from Matt and by the look in her eyes, it’s obvious – her invitation is meant for him alone.
Alex’s stomach clenches as she watches Matt’s gaze drift quickly down to his left hand and then away again, his smile suddenly less bright. “That’s lovely of you but I think I’ll be staying in tonight. You’re welcome to show Kaz and Arthur around.”
The girl’s smile dims. “Right. Sure. I’ll just go put in your order.”
Arthur snorts as she walks away. “Well there goes our tour guide.” He nudges Matt. “Couldn’t you take one for the team?”
He shrugs, eyes on the table. “Not interested.”
Karen narrows her eyes, looking between Matt and Alex, who very studiously avoid each other’s gaze. Then, voice quiet but determined, she says, “Alright. Spill.”
Matt blinks at her. “Spill what?”
“I’ve been waiting for you to confess but obviously you’re both just going to brood about it for a while first and I don’t have that kind of patience.” Karen taps her nails against the table while Arthur buries his head in his hands and sighs.
“I told her to shut up about it.”
“You shut up about it, Darvill. I need to know.”
Heart hammering in her chest, Alex looks anywhere but at Karen, as if just by looking at her face, the redhead will be able to see everything. Matt, however, remains calm in the face of interrogation, meeting Karen’s eyes with cool detachment. “It would be really helpful if you would clarify what the bloody hell you’re on about, Kaz.”
She crosses her arms over her chest, setting her jaw. “You really want me to spell it out for you?”
“If you wouldn’t mind.”
“Fine. You and Alex got sloshed together last night. You weren’t in your room last night or this morning. Alex managed to find you even when Arthur couldn’t and you’re wearing what you wore yesterday but Alex changed. So you must have been in her room, yeah? And she’s forgotten to cover up the marks on her neck. I really didn’t need to know that you’re a biter, Smith.”
Matt’s jaw drops and Karen regards him smugly. “What -”
“I’m right, aren’t I? You two shagged last night. And that’s not all.”
Joining Arthur in slumping against the table with her head in her hands, Alex mumbles, “Oh my god,” and waits for the earth to open up and swallow her. This is not happening.
She is not being outed in a diner at 9:30 in the morning.
“Shut up, Kaz,” Matt snaps, and Alex feels his hand on her arm as he reaches across the table.
Hands sliding urgently up her sides and cupping her breasts, thumbs caressing the nipples. She throws her head back, letting him sink his teeth into her throat as she begs him to touch her where she wants him most.
Alex jerks away from his touch as if it scalds and Matt pulls his hand back, eyes wounded. He always touches her, all the time – flirtatious touches on set, a comforting hand on the small of her back, or throwing an arm around her shoulders just because he can. She has always liked it when he touched her – there was something about Matt’s hands on her that she has always found intensely appealing. But now…Alex bites her lip apologetically and Matt looks away.
“It just happened, alright,” he says, addressing Karen, who smiles gleefully. “It was a one time thing and it’s none of your sodding business.”
“A one time thing, huh?” Karen hums thoughtfully, sneaking a glance at Arthur, who shakes his head frantically. She ignores him, turning to Alex. “After my third time calling your mobile this morning with no answer, I figured it must have died and you hadn’t charged it yet. So I went to the front desk and asked them to call Alex Kingston’s room for me.”
Alex ignores the creeping dread in the pit of her stomach. “So?”
“So,” Karen says, smirking. “They told me they didn’t have an Alex Kingston, but they did have an Alex Smith.”
A brief flicker of drunkenly standing at the front desk after her wedding flashes through her mind, and she vividly remembers asking them to change her name because she wasn’t Kingston anymore, thank you very much. Matt had been wrapped around her, kissing her neck, and she’d been rather adamant about the name change, even flashing them their marriage certificate. Alex Kingston had a big lonely hotel suite all to herself. Alex Smith would never be lonely again.
Paling as Matt sinks back into the booth blushing furiously, Alex whispers, “We’ll get it annulled. It’ll be fine.”
She doesn’t miss the way Matt’s face falls but she doesn’t have time to contemplate it before Karen is grabbing her arm and nearly bouncing. “I knew it. They eloped. I told you, Darvill.” She sticks out her tongue. “Oh my gosh. A Vegas wedding – it’s so, hang on. Did you say you’re going to get it annulled? Why?”
“Because we aren’t involved that way -”
“The marks on your neck would suggest otherwise.”
“Before last night,” Alex clarifies, blushing.
Karen grips her arm tightly. “But you can’t!”
“Why not?”
“Do you have any idea what it’ll do for your careers if you stay married? What it’ll do for the show? The real life Doctor and River getting hitched in Vegas? The ratings will be through the roof. My god, Moff will probably have some sort of writer’s orgasm when you tell him. It’s perfect.” Karen bites her lip, looking to Arthur for support.
Reluctantly, he nods. “If you get it annulled, it’ll be the opposite. Press will be ruddy awful, Moff will be on a rampage…you at least need to stick it out a few months, and then file for divorce, like things didn’t work out which isn’t unusual for celebrities anyway, it seems. You get it annulled now then everyone knows you didn’t mean to do it and you must have been drunk. That would be bad.”
Gripping the edge of the table, Alex swallows hard and looks at Matt, who is already watching her, expression pinched. They’re right. Keeping their marriage quiet isn’t an option and their immediate annulment would just make an already treacherous situation even messier. At least if they stayed married, they could somewhat salvage their reputations and careers. It would be best to stay together until Matt’s run on the show is finished, but a few months at least is necessary.
Oh god how is this happening?
Tears in her eyes, she asks softly to the table at large, “What do we do?”
Karen’s hand settles on her back, rubbing gently.
Matt clears his throat. “We could lie. Say we’ve been secretly dating for a while and decided to get married in Vegas on a whim but that we meant to do it.”
Next to him, Arthur nods, folding his hands. “It’s as good a cover story as it’s going to get.”
The thought of lying to everyone doesn’t appeal to her but what other choice is there? She’ll even have to lie to her daughter – telling her that her mummy got sloshed and married her costar in a fit of drunkenness isn’t the example she wants to set for Salome.
Karen claps her hands together, smiling as she picks her menu back up and begins to peruse the desserts. “Well, that’s settled. Now, we missed the wedding but what about a reception? Can we at least have cake?”
“God, Alex,” he growls, leaving a trail of rough, biting kisses down her abdomen. “Want to taste you.”
She clenches her hands in his hair, spreading her legs and tilting up her hips, pushing him down with an encouraging moan. At the first touch of his hot tongue against her slick folds, Alex gasps.
Standing abruptly, heart pounding, she blinks away tears as her friends – and husband – stare up at her. “I don’t know if can do this,” she says, and scrambles out of the booth before they can stop her.
“Alex, wait.”
She walks quickly, her head down, and by the time Matt catches up to her, she’s pushing open the door to the hotel. “Would you stop trying to run from me for five minutes, please?” He grabs her wrist in the middle of the lobby, stopping her in her tracks.
Whirling around, she hisses, “I am not running. Do you really want to have this discussion right here?”
Matt glances around, forcing a smile when he sees the stares they’re starting to attract. He loosens his grip on her wrist but doesn’t let go. “Alright. Your hotel room, then.”
Yanking her hand from his grasp, she turns and starts for the lifts. The moment the doors shut behind them, Matt digs into his pocket and pulls out his ring, sliding it back onto his finger. Alex gapes at him. “What are you doing?”
“There’s no use hiding it,” he says with a shrug. “And being spotted without it once we’re found out would just look bad.”
She makes no move to retrieve her ring from her purse, not quite ready to face the reality of their situation yet. “Well no one knows right now. You could have gone out with that girl tonight.”
He shrugs. “And have her come forward later and say we went to a club the day after I married you? Besides, I didn’t want to.”
“Why not? She was pretty enough.”
Matt frowns. “I’m married, Alex.”
“We barely remember it. We were drunk and not even dating to begin with.” She shakes her head. “It isn’t real.”
Eyes pained, he twists his wedding band around his finger. “It’s real to me.”
Frustrated, Alex steps quickly out of the lift the moment the doors open. Digging through her handbag for her key, she reasons, “It could have been anyone, Matt. You were drunk and so was I. It could just as easily have been Karen you married.”
“No, it couldn’t,” he says fiercely, and Alex turns startled eyes on him as she slides the key card through the lock on her door. “It wouldn’t have been anyone but you. You’re the only one I ever ” He stops, jaw set. “I wanted it to be you. I’m…I’m glad it’s you.”
She stares, stunned into silence.
Matt rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, his eyes on hers. “And it doesn’t even feel odd, you know? Ever since I woke up and saw that ring on your finger, I’ve been thinking of you as my wife. It just feels right.”
Shaking her head, Alex pushes open her door and steps inside, tossing her handbag onto the bed. The sheets are still rumpled and stained, and she glances away quickly. “What are you saying, Matt?”
He breathes out quietly and she watches him run a hand through his hair. “I’m saying this isn’t quite the way I wanted this to happen and I have to admit we did skip a couple of very important milestones but I can’t lie to you and say this isn’t where I wanted to end up.” He swallows, gaze darting to her bare left hand. “You with my ring on your finger.”
She inhales sharply, taking a step back. “Why would you want that?”
Laughing humorlessly, Matt scratches his cheek. “Because I’m a hopeless idiot who’s been trying to work up the nerve to ask you out to dinner since your first week of filming. Obviously, my drunken self was just making up for my cowardice by skipping all the in-between stuff and marrying you instead.”
It’s getting difficult to breathe properly. “You want to stay married to me?”
He nods, taking a step toward her and then another until he’s right in front of her and holding her hands in his. It reminds her of the way they’d stood at the altar, which isn’t helping, but she doesn’t want to see the dejected look on his face should she pull away from him again. “I know we were drunk and it was stupid, but I want to try and make this work.”
“How?” She gestures widely for emphasis but he doesn’t let go of her hands and ends up raising his arms with her. It feels ridiculous so she drops them again with a sigh. “I don’t even live in the same country as you. Married people are supposed to live together. What about Salome? What would I even tell her?”
“We’ll make it work, Alex. We’d find a way.” He squeezes her hands and licks his lips, looking into her eyes anxiously. “Just…wait six months. That’s all I’m asking for. And if you still want
into her eyes anxiously. “Just…wait six months. That’s all I’m asking for. And if you still want out, then we’ll get a divorce.”
Overwhelmed, Alex pulls her hands from his and paces away from him. She runs a hand through her hair and breathes out steadily, her mind racing. It makes more sense to stay married for a while and she knows that, knows that it would be easier for everyone. Doing it out of a sense of duty is one thing, but staying married because Matt actually wants her? He wants to be married to her. It’s almost unfathomable. Why would he want her when he could have anyone?
And does she want Matt? Well, she wants him, obviously. He’s kind and sweet and gorgeous and he makes her laugh. She adores him. But marriage? Alex has been through this twice before and it never worked out – and that was after years or months of dating someone. How can she possibly expect a ramshackle Vegas wedding to someone she hasn’t even dated to work out?
It won’t. She knows it, but Matt, as inexperienced as he is, doesn’t. He hasn’t lost that naïveté yet. She hates that she’s going to have to be the one to shatter his illusions.
Pausing at the nightstand where the evidence of their marriage lies, Alex picks up the stack of polaroids while Matt hovers nervously behind her, waiting for her to say something. Someone at the chapel must have taken them – a souvenir of sorts.
There is one of her walking down the aisle with a limp bouquet of flowers, and another of Matt standing at the other end and beaming soppily at her. There is one of their kiss, arms around each other and oblivious to everything else around them. Matt holds her face in his hands; reverent even as she remembers the way his tongue had swept through her mouth eagerly. Alex traces her fingers over that one and smiles softly.
But the one that really catches her eye is the one of them standing before the King, facing each other with their joined hands between them. Grinning at each other like they can’t hear the music playing over the speakers or the voice of the no doubt horrible Elvis impersonator. Alex wears a veil borrowed from the chapel wardrobe over her curls, her eyes fixed on Matt. She looks utterly smitten and she can’t help but wonder if she always looks at him like that.
“We look happy,” she whispers, and Matt is at her shoulder, looking down at the pictures with her. “Not obliviously drunk happy. I mean, actually really happy.”
“Is that so hard to believe?” Matt huffs, his breath warm against the back of her neck. “We could be, you know. I could make you happy if you’d let me.”
Chest tight, she shakes her head and breathes, “Oh, Matt.”
He settles his hand on her hip, voice soft and pleading. “Come on Kingston. Be my ball and chain for six months.”
It won’t work out, but oh, she wishes it would. She can’t think of anything she would like better than being with Matt – ridiculous, clumsy, lovely Matt – for the rest of her life. There is no doubt in her mind that he could make her happy, if it’s what he wanted. He already makes her happy, just by being her friend. Making him happy, on the other hand…she doesn’t even know where to start.
But she’s willing to try.
With a combination of trepidation and hope, she finally turns and looks up at him. “If it’s real to you, then I suppose it’s real to me too.”
His whole face lights up and she feels warmth bloom in her chest. “Is that a ‘yes we’re going to try’?”
She nods, biting her lip. “Yes.”
Grinning widely, Matt wraps his arms around her waist and lifts her, spinning her around until Alex is clinging to him and giggling, dizzy and breathless.
“Going to make you so, so happy,” he promises in a whisper, planting little kisses all over her face.
She slides her hands into his hair and makes him look at her. “Six months,” she warns. “Just a trial period.”
She doesn’t say that she doesn’t believe this will work; that she doubts what he feels for her is anything more than infatuation. She’ll let him discover that on his own, and in the meantime, she’ll prepare herself for another failed relationship.
Matt looks determined. “I’ll make it a good six months then. Best ever.” Then, he bends his head
and captures her mouth in a fervent kiss.
Her eyes flutter shut instantly, the tension flooding from her the moment his lips touch hers. The thought of being married to this man is all at once exhilarating and terrifying, but this she can do. She traces her tongue over his lips and presses insistently, pleased when Matt opens his mouth over hers with a groan, his grip on her hips suddenly bruising. Leaning closer as their tongues curl around each other, she presses her body into his and slides her hands up his chest under his shirt, her thumbs flicking over his nipples.
Matt sighs into her mouth in response and the little noise sends a thrill straight through her, her own nipples pebbling beneath her dress. He runs his hands over the expanse of her back and she arches into him, breaking their kiss to tilt her head back. His mouth is on her throat instantly, sucking the way he had last night and she moans.
She spreads her legs as he moves to nip at her earlobe, letting his leg shift between her thighs. He gasps at the heat of her core against him and when she grinds herself against his thigh, he makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat.
“Christ, Alex,” he bites out, his hands scrabbling to lift her dress over her head and the low growl in his voice makes her insides quiver, a new rush of wetness pooling between her thighs. While she only recalls tidbits of their time together last night, her body certainly still remembers how to respond to him and she finds that she doesn’t want to stop this. It’s too late to stop this.
He tosses the dress aside and kisses her hard, backing her up toward the bed. Alex falls onto the mattress and sits up hurriedly, turning over onto her hands and knees. She smirks at the strangled moan that Matt releases and the subsequent sound of him tripping over his own feet in his scramble to join her on the bed.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he whispers, running his hand over her arse.
She wiggles against him impatiently and he laughs, kissing the small of her back.
Running his hands over the backs of her thighs, he continues softly, “I don’t remember much about last night. But I woke up with the taste of you still on my tongue and it’s been like a craving ever since.”
“Oh god, darling,” she pleads, fisting her hands in the sheets. “Please.”
He makes a content sound in the back of his throat at the return of his pet name and then without preamble, his mouth is on her. He kisses her sex with the same enthusiasm with which he’d kissed her mouth just moments ago, all lips and tongue and nothing but skill.
Alex drops her head with a cry, arching back into his mouth as he licks her. He slides his tongue into her, letting the stubble on his chin brush roughly against her clit and when she moans it comes out more like a sob. Humming and sending vibrations all through her, Matt suckles lightly on her clit and nips at the swollen nub with his teeth. She jerks and feels his smile against her slick labia, smug and exasperating.
Then, he presses the flat of his tongue against her clit and licks a long stripe up the length of her sex but he doesn’t stop, stroking his tongue over her perineum and then –
Alex gasps in shock, her grip on the sheets white-knuckled.
Chuckling softly, Matt breathes hotly against her and asks, “Like that, do you?”
Dripping wet and aching for him, she can do nothing but whimper.
He hums thoughtfully, murmuring, “Learning something new about yourself already. A fantastic start to a marriage, wouldn’t you say, Kingston?” Before she can retort, his mouth is on her again and oh god no one has ever touched her there before. It’s like every nerve ending is on fire, set alight by the caress of his tongue.
Alex can only imagine how wanton she looks, mouth open in pleasure and fingers clenched into the sheets as Matt spreads her cheeks open and delves his tongue inside her. She cries out, something inhuman and guttural, rocking her hips back against him as he pushes deeper, his tongue warm and wide as he twists and curls it past the puckered skin of her arse.
His hand leaves its bruising grip on her hip and reaches around in front of her to slide between her legs. She can feel how wet she is as his fingers slip over her folds and find her entrance. She bites her lip against a moan as he presses two fingers inside her and begins to thrust them, fucking her in both openings.
Heat crawls up and down her spine and pools in her belly as she lets her head drop forward and she’s reduced to begging, babbling incoherently about all the things she’s going to do to him, how
she’ll take him down her throat until her lips are rubbed raw and she can taste nothing but him in her mouth for days, how she’s going to make him feel just as good as he’s making her feel right now.
Matt moans, and with her head down, she glimpses between her legs and sees him palming himself through his trousers. And suddenly it’s all too much. Too much sensation, too much pleasure, too much of Matt – his stubble scraping between her cheeks, his tongue spearing her hole and his long fingers curling inside her soaking cunt – and Alex comes with a sob, clenching around his prodding fingers and tongue. It isn’t a usual orgasm for her – it’s something deep and all encompassing. It rolls through her like a slow burn, leaving her sprawled face first against the mattress, panting and blinking away white lights.
Kissing his way up her back, Matt whispers tender words against her skin and Alex listens to them dazedly, her mind buzzing. He’s pressed against her back and she can feel his erection prodding between her thighs through his trousers. It sends another trickle of heat through her and she turns over to find him watching her hungrily, still fully dressed.
Reaching around to cup the back of his neck with a shaking hand, she kisses him hard, her tongue plundering his mouth. The taste of herself there, rather than working as a repellent, only makes her fumble with his trousers, desperate to be filled. Matt nips at her bottom lip once and then pulls away, face flushed, to divest himself of his clothes.
Alex reaches around to unclasp her bra and toss it away, her eyes on Matt as he undresses, admiring the smooth expanse of his chest, his flat stomach and the way his ribs are visible – she wants to count them with her tongue, and then trace her way over those protruding hipbones and sink her teeth into them.
Six months is a long time, and she plans on learning his body like a piece of sheet music before things fall apart. It will not last, but she will have this. For a while, anyway.
Matt pauses just long enough to rip open a condom and roll it on before he’s climbing onto the bed and hovering over her. He takes his time first, his hands cupping the weight of her breasts and rolling her nipples into hard peaks as he kisses the marks he’d made on her body last night, like retracing his steps.
She wriggles against him, trapping his cock between her thighs and he freezes for only a moment before thrusting once shallowly. “Fuck me, darling,” she breathes against his neck, kissing his collarbone and his hands curl tightly around her ribcage in agreement. She opens her thighs and he settles more firmly between them, lifting himself over her and she instantly misses the warm weight of his chest against hers.
“Fucking hell,” he hisses against her neck, sheathing himself inside her still pulsing sex. “You are so perfect. My perfect, gorgeous wife.”
Alex shudders, a wave of heat rolling through her. Sliding her fingers through his hair, she whispers back, “My husband,” and likes the newness of it on her tongue.
Apparently Matt does too, because he moans and begins to move, his hips bucking against hers. He bends his head to kiss her again, drawing her lower lip into his mouth and sucking on it before releasing it and thrusting his tongue into her mouth at the same pace as their rocking hips.
She whinges, tilting her head back and begging, “Harder, darling.”
He redoubles his efforts, hitching her leg over his shoulder so that her thigh presses against her chest and the burn is painful but the new angle is so deliciously deep that Alex doesn’t care, crying out and reaching around to grip the firm muscle of his backside, tilting her hips and encouraging him to go harder, faster.
His abdomen strikes her sensitive clit with every thrust and her orgasm is a coiled spring at the base of her spine, burning all through her. Feeling her tightening around him, Matt pulls back to look into her eyes, gaze so deep and dark that the hazel is eclipsed by the black of his pupils. “The worst thing about last night is that I can’t remember what your face looks like when you come. Let me see you, Alex. Let me see you fall apart.”
His voice is rough and gravelly with the effort of holding himself back and oh god Matt speaking has always been such a turn on. It doesn’t take much more, and when he dips his head to suck her nipple into his mouth, she shatters with a cry, the pleasure so intense she can barely breathe, shaking beneath him with the force of her climax.
He presses his forehead to hers, watching her intently and sliding one hand into her curls. His thrusts turn sharp and uneven, and she realizes her release has set off his own. Having that sort of power over him is intoxicating and she leans up to capture his mouth with her own as he comes, his whole body shuddering.
Sweaty and exhausted, they collapse together against the mattress, Alex’s leg muscles burning as she slides it from his shoulder. They’re both trembling, reaching out for each other at the same time. She cuddles into his side with a satiated sigh and Matt holds her tightly against him, his lips at her hairline. “Well,” she says breathlessly, once she can speak again. “Definitely going to remember that one.”
Matt laughs, leaning forward to kiss her with a bright grin. She slides her hands over his back and sinks into the pillows, pulling him with her. Suddenly, six months isn’t nearly long enough.
--
Month 1
The first month is the most difficult. They call Steven from their hotel room, wanting to let him know before the press breaks the story. Understandably annoyed at first about being kept in the dark about their (nonexistent) relationship, he still takes the news pretty well and by the time they hang up, he’s nearly clapping his hands with glee at all the fun he’s going to have writing for them now.
“See?” Karen says when they tell her. “Writer’s orgasm.”
Arthur wrinkles his nose. “Could you not talk about Moff and orgasms in the same sentence ever again please?”
“Orgasms and Moffat. Moffat orgasms. Orgasmic Moffat.”
“I hate you.”
Matt decides to accompany Alex back to Los Angeles for a few days, to help her tell Salome and wait out the firestorm that is no doubt coming. He calls his family on the drive from the airport and Alex tries not to listen in as he talks in a low voice to his mother, apologizing for not telling her about dating Alex and no, he hadn’t been drunk when he married her.
After a pause on his end, he glances in her direction once and then turns toward the window, phone pressed to his ear as he says softly, “Yes, of course I love her.”
Alex tightens her grip on the steering wheel and swallows hard.
He calls his sister next and she screeches so loudly that Matt pulls the phone away from his ear
with a wince and Alex can hear her from the other side of the car. They both listen in amusement as she proclaims how glad she is Matt got away from ‘that other one’ and that Alex is lovely and ‘please don’t bugger this up, dear’. Alex likes her already.
The idea of telling Salome, however, is terrifying.
Alex pulls into the driveway at Florian’s and takes a deep breath, wiping her sweaty palms on her trousers. “It would be best if you sit here, darling,” she says, glancing at Matt, who peers out the window toward the house. “I’ll get Salome and we can tell her together.”
“Right,” he says, frowning. “Probably not the time to meet the ex-husband.”
Oh god, she can picture it now. A train wreck waiting to happen.
Patting his arm, she gets out of the car and strides up the walkway to collect her daughter. Salome is waiting at the front door and Florian steps out onto the porch with her, carrying her backpack. Her daughter rushes her the moment she sees her, throwing her arms around her and holding on tight. “How was Vegas? Did you see Matty? Did you bring me back anything?”
“Fantastic and yes to the last two,” Alex holds her close, smelling sweet shampoo and clean cotton. “Go on and get in the car, sweetie. There’s a surprise waiting for you.”
Grinning, Salome snatches her backpack from her father and takes off for the car at a sprint, shouting her goodbye as she goes. Shuffling awkwardly, Alex clears her throat and tries to fight off the unease she always feels around her ex-husband now. “So she was good then?”
“Perfect, as always,” Florian nods. “Have a good time?”
She’s going to have to tell him. He’ll find out from Salome soon enough and then he’ll just be pissed she didn’t mention it when she picked her up.
Bracing herself, Alex nods and hums. “Brilliant. Got married.”
Florian snorts. “Right.”
She frowns. “No, I mean it.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Alex, you honestly expect me to believe you got drunk in Vegas and married someone like some out of control college student on spring break?”
“No one said anything about drunk,” she snaps, hating herself for lying and but also hating herself for how much she wishes she were telling the truth. “I’ve been seeing him for a while. We decided to get married.”
“And who is he? Did you bring him with you?”
He raises a skeptical eyebrow just before Matt says loud enough to be heard from the porch, “What do you mean where’s your surprise? I’m your surprise, you ungrateful little bugger!”
Salome giggles.
Florian’s jaw drops. “You’re fucking with me.”
Pursing her lips against a smile, Alex shakes her head and holds up her hand to let him see the wedding ring on her finger. “Congratulate me?”
“He’s twelve!”
“He’s almost thirty,” she snaps, hand settling on her hip. “And I’m a grown woman who can make her own decisions so congratulate me like you’re a grown man, please.”
Florian scowls. “Congratulations, cougar.”
“That’s Mrs. Smith to you,” she smiles and gives him a little wave, turning to start for the car.
“Same thing,” he calls after her.
They drive home with Salome chattering excitedly in the backseat but Alex barely hears anything she says over the pounding of her heart. Salome loves Matt, she tells herself. This will be fine.
But lying to her daughter makes her nervous. And who knows how she’ll take to the idea of her mother married to someone other than her father. And then, if by some miracle, she doesn’t mind the idea, Alex hates for Salome to get attached to Matt only to lose him in six months. She doesn’t want to put her daughter through another divorce.
Blinking away tears at the damage she has wrought on her own child at her stupid, drunken decisions, Alex is startled when she feels Matt’s hand cover hers and squeeze gently. She glances at him and sees him giving her a soft smile that says ‘relax, Kingston.’ Easier said than done.
“Mom?”
Matt pulls his hand away at the sound of Salome’s voice right in their ears. She’d taken off her seatbelt and leaned forward to settle her elbows on their armrests. “Salome Violetta, get back in your seat this minute,” Alex says, giving her daughter a look through the rearview mirror.
Salome ignores her, gaping at the steering wheel with wide eyes.
Confused, Alex follows her gaze and sees nothing unusual. Just her hand on the wheel, her ring on her finger –
Fuck.
“You and Matty are wearing rings,” she points out. “Matching rings.”
Oh, sod it all to hell why didn’t she take off her damned ring?
The regular sex is obviously destroying brain cells.
Sighing as Matt rubs his chin nervously and fumbles for the right words, she says, “We were going to tell you when we got home, but I suppose now is as good a time as any.” She pulls onto their street and drives slowly down the lane, eyes on her daughter in the rearview mirror. “Matt and I got married in Vegas, sweetheart. We’ve been dating for a while and while we were away, he proposed.”
Salome glances between them. “Why?”
Matt turns in his seat to smile at her. “Because we care about each other, poppet. And we want to be together.”
She bites her lip. “You didn’t tell me.”
“Your mum wasn’t sure I was serious about us,” he says smoothly. “She didn’t want to get your hopes up.”
“You got married without me.”
Chest tight, Alex pulls into the driveway and turns off the car, tears in her eyes. Matt unbuckles his seatbelt, turning around fully to face Salome but his hand rests comfortingly on Alex’s thigh. “I know, poppet. And I’m sorry about that. We were just very caught up in the moment. But we have pictures, yeah? And…” He hesitates, fingers curling against Alex’s leg. “Maybe one day we’ll get married again and you can be there. Would you like that?”
Alex bites the inside of her cheek hard, wiping hurriedly at her eyes, but Salome nods. “Can I be the flower girl?”
“Course you can,” he says, bopping her on the nose. “Can’t imagine anyone more qualified for the job.”
“Are you moving in?” Salome glances around the car as if hoping to find his belongings. “Oh, Matty! You can read to me at night and we’ll watch Disney movies and it’ll be so much fun!”
Just as Alex is composing herself, Matt seems to be losing his grip on his emotions, his eyes glossy as he looks at her daughter. “I would love that, poppet. But I’m only staying for a while. Who is still filming in England, love.”
“Then are we coming back with you?” Salome looks at Alex questioningly.
She shakes her head. “We still live here, sweetie. Your father doesn’t want you so far away from him.” When Salome’s face falls, she reaches out a hand to brush over her brown hair. “We’ll visit when we can.”
Salome still looks unhappy, but she nods and gets out of the car with them. Her spirits are up again the moment they’re through the door, pulling Matt by the hand to her room. Alex sinks into an armchair with a tired groan, kicking off her shoes and curling up. From upstairs, she can hear Matt in Salome’s bedroom, proclaiming the walls much too pink and wouldn’t she like a nice TARDIS blue instead? Alex giggles and closes her eyes, soaking in the good moments while they last.
The next night, when Salome is in bed, Alex stretches out along the sofa with Matt, curling against his body and pretending to watch the telly. But more than anything, she’s counting his slow, even breaths and wondering how she’d gone so long without another person to cuddle with. There is nothing in the world like the closeness that comes with someone’s arms around her waist, holding her near and letting her feel the rise and fall of his chest as they breathe in time.
It’s comforting to have it again and with Matt’s fingers trailing lightly up and down her arm in a gentle caress, she’s dangerously close to falling asleep.
On the coffee table, her phone buzzes.
“Don’t answer it,” he whispers, kissing the shell of her ear.
“Not a problem,” she mumbles, snuggling further into him and shutting her eyes with a sigh.
The buzzing stops.
Then, Matt’s phone lights up and jolts, jumping sporadically across the table. It doesn’t even get
the chance to stop before Alex’s starts again, impatient and loudly insistent. They watch in silence as their phones continue to light up and hum, demanding to be picked up. Ten minutes pass and they still haven’t stopped.
“So I guess everyone knows.”
Alex bites her lip. “Can buzzing sound angry?”
Matt tightens his hold on her waist and buries his nose in her hair. “It’s all in your head, love.”
“It’s not,” she insists, watching her phone light up with a text alert. “You can’t expect people to be happy about this, darling.”
“That’s the thing about marriage, Kingston,” he says wryly. “It only takes the two people involved to be happy about it. Everyone else can go fuck themselves.”
She snorts. “You’re assuming I’m happy, Matthew.”
“Not assuming.” He nips at her earlobe. “I know you are.”
“Awfully confident, aren’t you?”
“We’re still in our honeymoon period,” he reasons, his hand sliding beneath her shirt and smoothing over the skin of her stomach. “Everyone is happy during the honeymoon period. Even you.”
She twists in his arms to face him and he uses the new angle to slide his hand up, cupping her breast through her bra. She tries not to arch against him and fails utterly, choosing to ignore his triumphant smirk. “And how long should I expect this honeymoon period to last?”
“Depends,” he says, mouthing at her neck.
Alex curls her hands into his shirt. “On what?”
“On how good I am.”
His fingers slip inside her bra to tweak her nipple and she gasps, yanking his head up to kiss him thoroughly. It turns out; he is very, very good.
--
Month Two:
Matt leaves for London a week after the story of their elopement breaks. Alex and Salome take him to the airport and stand at the gate to say goodbye. She watches as Matt drops his bag and kneels to gather Salome into his arms, hugging her tightly, and wonders if she looks anywhere near as forlorn as they do.
It’s been a week of Matt being there when she wakes up, of him accompanying her to the supermarket and pouting when she makes him put back the Oreos, of he and Salome attempting to make dinner in the kitchen and making a mess instead. Just a week, and they’re already attached.
When he manages to extract Salome’s clinging arms, he smiles at her and taps her nose. “You be a good girl for your mum and try not to waste away with missing me, alright?”
Salome giggles, sniffling and nodding.
He ruffles her hair and stands, his eyes on Alex now. When he holds out his arms, she steps into them without hesitation, wrapping herself around him and burying her face in his neck to breathe him in one last time. This is a good thing, she tells herself. She is getting far too attached to something that isn’t going to last. Maybe with him gone, she’ll be able to clear her head and think like a rational human being again.
“And that goes for you too,” he says into her hair, and she laughs. His arms tighten around her and he sighs, his lips against her ear. “Should I be missing you already?”
She ignores the lump in her throat and responds lightly, “Well I am your wife, after all.”
“Miracle of miracles,” he says, and she feels her heart swell in response.
He kisses her as the last call for his flight sounds over the terminal, a kiss full of desperation and clinging hands, his breath hot on her face. It’s a kiss to keep him warm until they’re together again and Alex gives it to him willingly.
And then he disappears through the gate with one last wave while Alex and Salome hold hands and watch. She plans to use the time away to get a hold of herself, lest the sudden closeness between them and the rush of all that desperate newlywed sex cloud her judgment. Like Matt had said, everyone was happy during the honeymoon period.
Except he doesn’t give her a chance to clear her head – he calls and texts her every day, several times a day. He and Salome end up in some sort of email contest to see who can send the other the funniest picture of themselves and Alex hears Salome laughing herself silly every time there’s a new email from Matt in her inbox. It’s impossible to have a clear head when even when he isn’t around, he’s never gone. He sends her hand-written letters for god’s sake, detailing how much he misses her and what the thought of her does to him. The man is eloquent with a pen and every new letter makes Alex blush down to her toes and stuff the envelope into a drawer before Salome can ask what she’s reading.
By the time it’s Florian’s turn to take Salome in the last week of her second month of marriage, Alex has developed an itch under her skin that it seems no one but Matt can scratch. So she flies out to London to be with him. She can barely sit still on the flight, and she tells herself that she just misses large, capable hands on her bare skin and that skillful tongue. She just needs the fires those letters ignited to be extinguished. It’s not that she wants to see those easy smiles he gives her, or feel his arms around her in the night or hear him laugh. She doesn’t miss her husband.
She’d told him not to meet her at the airport, that she would take a cab to his place instead but he obviously hadn’t listened because she spots that head of floppy hair almost immediately after she steps through the gate. He’s grinning widely at her and she doesn’t even care that he’d deliberately ignored her wishes because all right, maybe she had missed more than the sex. Just a bit.
Dropping her bag at her feet, she throws herself into his arms and laughs when he lifts her off the ground, his arms tight around her waist. “Miss me, wife?”
Instead of admitting it, Alex searches out his mouth with her own and kisses him.
Their picture is in the paper the next morning, of course. The headline and the entire article is
rather insulting, not to Matt but to Alex. She isn’t surprised – she had known it would be this way from the beginning. Matt never mentions the press when he calls her but Karen had told her the coverage hadn’t been pretty. Apparently he’s been hounded just about everywhere he goes. The fans have been mostly supportive and talk of Doctor Who has gone way up just as Steven had hoped, but the press has been relentless.
Now, she sits in Matt’s kitchen and watches him methodically rip the newspaper into tiny shreds, his jaw set and his eyes burning. She worries her bottom lip between her teeth and watches the little pile of newspaper bits grow in the middle of the table. “I’m sorry,” she finally says.
He glances up, brow furrowed. “What are you sorry for?”
“That you’re under so much scrutiny because of me.” She tucks her hair behind her ear nervously. “If I were younger or didn’t have quite so much baggage, no one would even be talking about us anymore.”
If anything, the fire behind his eyes blazes brighter and she can practically hear his teeth grinding together. “You think I’m upset about me? That whatever they have to say about me matters?”
“So you rip up newspapers as a hobby then?”
He makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. “I’m angry about the way they’re talking about my wife, damn it. I don’t care what they say about me!”
Startled, she blinks at him. “Matt, darling, it’s fine. I expected it.”
“You shouldn’t expect it,” he snaps. “And it’s not fine when someone talks about you like that. Ever.”
Alex alternates her gaze between the stubborn expression on his young face and the shredded pile of newspaper on the table in front of them, feeling something warm and comforting swell in her chest as she realizes that he hasn’t said anything to her about the press because he’s been trying to protect her from the brunt of it. It’s a consideration she never expected from him, but she appreciates it nonetheless.
She doesn’t know what to do with this strange feeling, this sudden wave of affection for him. After a moment of silence in which she contemplates her next move and Matt goes back to
After a moment of silence in which she contemplates her next move and Matt goes back to destroying the newspaper bit by bit, Alex comes to a decision. Rising slowly from her chair, she rounds the table and stands in front of him. He pauses to look up at her expectantly, leaning back in his seat.
Hesitating for only a second, she settles into his lap and wraps her arms around his neck. Startled, Matt slowly puts his arms around her waist and asks, “To what do I owe the honor?”
She smiles into his neck and says, “Just because.”
Month Three:
“Would you please go sit down and relax?”
“But you’re going to explode my kitchen and I just cleaned in there!”
Matt sighs, hands on her shoulders as he directs her back into the living room. “I am not going to explode your kitchen. I’ve been practicing while I’ve been gone and I’ve gotten much better. Besides, Salome will be in there too.”
“That really isn’t making me feel any better, darling.”
He gasps. “I’m going to tell her you said that.”
“I’m not worried about her blowing up the kitchen,” she says, laughing. “I’m worried about her safety while you’re in there.”
“Well that’s just rude.”
Perching on an armchair and accepting the telly remote he shoves into her hands, she says, “Alright but there’s a fire extinguisher under the kitchen sink just in case.”
Walking backwards into the kitchen, he gives her a salute. “Won’t need it but thanks.”
“Make Salome show you how to use it,” she shouts after him.
“Won’t need it!”
“Matt!”
“Can’t hear you!”
Stifling a giggle as he begins to sing loudly to drown her out, Alex curls up in the armchair and turns on the telly. Traveling back and forth between London and Los Angeles has been exhausting but if they didn’t, people would start to wonder. It’s the only reason she keeps going to London whenever she can – to keep up appearances. It’s a lie and she knows it but it keeps her sane. There are only three months left.
Matt has been here for two days, having flown out to LA the minute he had a week free. Tonight, he and Salome are making dinner and it’s difficult to stay out of the kitchen but she tries her best. Salome is leaving tonight to spend the weekend with Florian and the time alone with Matt will hopefully keep her from being too upset about missing most of his visit.
A little anxious after a few minutes, she calls out, “How’s it going in there?”
Something clangs and Matt shouts, panicked, “No Salome, not that button!”
Another clatter and Salome shrieks.
Alex is on her feet in an instant, rushing to the doorway of the kitchen and expecting to find injury and disaster waiting for her but instead, Salome and Matt stand in the middle of a pristine kitchen, grinning smugly.
“What -” She glares. “Oh, you cheeky buggers. Not funny.”
Matt sniffs. “Neither is your appalling lack of faith in our culinary skills.”
“Know what will be even less funny?” She raises an eyebrow. “Sleeping on the sofa tonight.”
Salome giggles and pokes him. “Told you she’d ground you.”
“Harsh.” He pouts until Alex kisses the look away.
Despite her misgivings, dinner is a success. They’d even made some sort of chocolate mousse for dessert. Salome is just polishing hers off, running her fingers over her plate to swipe up the last of the whipped cream when the doorbell rings.
Her shoulders slump. “That’s dad.”
“Go get your stuff,” Alex sighs, pushing back her chair and standing.
“Help me pick out some books to take?” Salome sticks out her bottom lip the way Matt does when he’s pouting and Alex is just as helpless to say no to her as she is to him.
“Fine, but let’s be quick,” she says, pausing just long enough to peck Matt’s cheek as he clears the dinner plates. “Answer the door for me, love?”
He turns to look at her, panicked. “Wait, what? That’s…that’s -”
“A person at the door,” she says, amused. “Waiting to be let in.”
“Yes, your ex-husband,” he says, eyes wide. “It will be painful and awkward. Please don’t make me.”
Salome tugs on her hand and Alex sighs. “It will be fine. Now be a brave boy and unlock the door, yeah?”
She leaves Matt standing panicked in the kitchen, and the minute they reach Salome’s bedroom,
she turns on her daughter suspiciously. “Since when do you need help picking out books? It’s always the same – Harry Potter and A Wrinkle in Time.”
Salome glances around her room guiltily. “I just thought they could use some time alone, that’s all. And then maybe dad would like Matty and see how serious he is.”
“Serious?”
Hesitating, Salome turns to her bookshelf and begins to run her fingers over the titles. “He says that Matt is too young for it to last very long and you’re being irresponsible. He says I shouldn’t get attached to him.”
Alex does her best not to let her anger show on her face, curling her hands into fists at her sides and listening to the blood rush hot and raging in her ears. No matter how true Florian’s words may be, it’s none of his business and he certainly shouldn’t be talking about it with Salome. Clearing her throat and hoping her fury doesn’t bleed through into her voice, she says, “Your father shouldn’t talk to you about those things. You tell him I said that, alright?”
Salome nods. “He’s wrong, isn’t he?”
No. And I’m sorry.
“Of course he is. Now pick out your books and come downstairs, alright?”
She leaves Salome quickly, wiping at her eyes as she starts down the stairs to rescue Matt from awkward small talk. She finds them standing in the foyer, Matt fidgeting and Florian glaring at the floor like it has done him some sort of horrible injustice.
“Having a nice chat?” She asks, smiling even through the turmoil in her mind at the way Matt snaps his head up and beams at the sight of her, like she’s his knight in shining armor.
“Stimulating,” Florian answers dryly.
“Well let me liven things up for you,” she says, turning to him with a sweet smile. “My marriage is absolutely none of your business and if I hear of you talking to Salome about it again, we’re going
to have a problem.”
Florian gapes at her. “I hardly think preparing her for the inevitable is bad parenting. Do you really want to blindside her again?”
“I didn’t want to the first time,” she says. “That certainly didn’t stop you.”
The sound of Salome thundering down the stairs stops him from snapping his reply and Alex looks away from him to smile at her daughter as she walks into the room. “Ready?”
She nods, walking over and wrapping her arms around Alex. “Love you.”
“I love you, sweetie,” she says, kissing her cheek. “Be good, alright?”
“I will,” she promises, and moves to jump into Matt’s arms.
He’s been quiet throughout the whole exchange with Florian, but now he holds Salome close and whispers something into her ear. Salome’s embrace becomes impossibly tighter as she murmurs back, “I love you too, Matty.”
Alex accidentally catches Florian’s eye as she glances away from their hug and sees him looking at her as if his point has been proven – Salome is getting attached. She pointedly ignores him and when Salome finally lets go of Matt, Florian turns and walks with her out to the car.
Matt holds out his arm and Alex steps into his side, letting him wrap an arm around her waist. Together, they stand in silence at the door and watch until Florian’s taillights disappear down the street.
--
Month Four:
In England without Salome once more, Alex sits at a pub with Matt, Karen and Arthur the
evening she arrives. She hadn’t seen much of her friends last time she’d visited, more concerned with hiding from the paparazzi than going out and socializing. Now, things seemed to have calmed down a bit. There is still the occasional article in the paper but their fondness for the nickname Kingston the Cougar has thankfully diminished.
Sitting across from her and sipping her fruity cocktail, Karen prods Alex with her foot under the table and asks, “So how’s married life treating you?”
Alex shrugs, tensing a little under the weight of Matt’s arm around her shoulders. “It’s fine, dear.”
“Just fine?”
“Best Vegas marriage I’ve had yet,” she says, avoiding Karen’s scrutinizing gaze by glancing up at Matt. “What about you, darling?”
“No complaints so far,” he says, and his eyes crinkle when he smiles down at her.
“Boring,” Karen complains, making a face. “Don’t you want to share anything juicy?”
“You didn’t ask the right question,” Arthur points out.
She raises an eyebrow. “And what is the right question, Cheshire Cat?”
Bestowing Karen with a brief glare, Arthur says, “The right question is, ‘how are you dealing with being married to Matt?’”
Karen nods. “Excellent question, kitty. Does he leave his socks everywhere? Take over the bathroom with all his hair products? Does he suck his thumb in his sleep?”
“We don’t really live together.” Alex laughs as Matt nicks the straw from Karen’s drink and tosses it over his shoulder in defiance. “Although he does tend to sneak peanut butter from the jar when he thinks I’m not looking.”
“I do not!”
“Are you calling your wife a liar?”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “Well if we’re talking about habits you -”
“Tread lightly, darling,” she says, eyes narrowed.
“You didn’t let me finish,” he complains. “I was going to say you always bite your lip when you’re concentrating really hard. Like when you’re reading or -” He stops, blushing and her eyes widen. “It’s very distracting.”
“Oh my god,” Karen wrinkles her nose, laughing. “That is not a complaint, you complete sap. I bet you two haven’t even had a good old-fashioned domestic yet, have you?”
“Aw,” Arthur looks at them like they’re adorable children. “They’re still honeymooning, Kaz.”
“Precious,” she sighs.
And it really is almost too easy with Matt. Maybe it would be different if they were together day in and day out for months on end but somehow, she has a feeling he isn’t putting up a front for her. What she sees is what she gets. And everyone has their own annoying habits but her quirks and Matt’s just seem to fit together, like they were always meant to cohabitate.
Their marriage is just like their friendship had been – the same easy conversation and laughter and flirting, only with the added bonus of sex rather than all of that unresolved sexual tension. It’s actually perfect and Alex keeps waiting for the catch, or for Matt to come to her and tell her he wants out at the end of the agreed six months, that it’s not working or he’s met someone his own age.
But he doesn’t.
Beneath the table, he squeezes her thigh and she glances up at him with a smile. “Alex, tell them I’m a brilliant husband.”
Without even thinking, she turns to Karen and Arthur and nods. “He’s right, I’m afraid. Terribly considerate.”
Karen scowls. “Oh, he has to have a flaw somewhere. Does he snore?”
Alex shakes her head.
“Is he rubbish in bed?”
Matt chokes. “Kaz!”
“That’s it, isn’t it? All that talk about majesty was just for show, wasn’t it? It’s all a hoax – like Big Foot and the Abominable Snowman.”
“I am not a mythical creature,” he says; voice squeaking, and Alex giggles. “And I’m perfectly proportioned.”
“For what? A dwarf?”
Arthur snorts and Matt buries his blushing face in her neck while Alex pets his hair fondly. “Alright, children. That’s quite enough. You’re mortifying my husband.”
Karen huffs. “Sorry.”
Matt lifts his head from her shoulder with a frown. “Aren’t you going to defend my honor?”
Alex sighs and looks across the table at their friends, informing them in a bored tone, “I’m sorry to disappoint you all but he really is very competent and has an enormous penis. Orgasms all over the place.”
Arthur gags but Matt beams, sticking out his tongue at Karen, who looks somewhere between
horrified and annoyed.
Shaking her head, Alex laughs. “God, I married a complete child.”
Karen smirks. “It’s okay, Alex. You were drunk. No one blames you.”
“I do,” Arthur says. “Even blind drunk I would know better than to marry him.”
“Oi,” Matt scowls at him and tightens his arm around Alex’s shoulder, tugging her further into his side and she lets him with an air of exasperated patience. “I am an excellent choice, drunk or not. You heard Alex – I’m lovely.”
“So far,” Karen says, grinning.
“Maybe the problem won’t be Matt,” Arthur muses. “Maybe it’ll be Alex.”
Alex gives him a betrayed look. “What did I do to you?”
He shrugs. “It’s the only option left if Matt’s so bloody perfect.”
“Come on Matt, spill,” Karen eyes him. “Does she snore? Make you wash dishes? Leave hair in the shower drain?”
Matt sets his jaw stubbornly and brushes his lips over Alex’s temple. “My only complaint is that she isn’t around nearly enough.”
Heart swelling, Alex grins, sitting up a little straighter. “Oh, I like that. Can I make that my complaint too?”
Karen and Arthur exchange disgusted looks. “They’re actually making me feel ill.”
“A match made in heaven.”
“Or Vegas.”
“Same thing.”
--
Month Five:
There is nothing Alex loves quite so much as that wonderful little gasp that escapes from Matt’s lips whenever she takes him into her mouth. She moves her head down until he’s poking at the back of her throat, and then she swallows. His hips buck instantly but she’s ready for him by now, pinning him to the mattress with her hands resting on his hipbones.
Raising her head, she releases him from her mouth with a pop, admiring the way her slick saliva shines against the red of his cock. She blows lightly on the tip and he hisses, hands curling in the sheets. “Fuck, Alex.”
“Is that what you want, darling,” she asks, voice low and purring as she looks up at him. “Want me to fuck you with my mouth?”
He whimpers, eyes wide as he nods. “God, yes, please.”
Oh, she loves it when he begs. She hums thoughtfully, taking her time as she hovers over him, raking her eyes down his chest and stomach to his hard length begging for attention. Bending her head, she peppers his inner thighs with kisses, and then moves to brush her mouth over the trail of hair dusting his lower abdomen, enjoying the way he squirms beneath her impatiently. She glances up and sees his face twisted in the agony of waiting, his eyes screwed shut and his cheeks beautifully flushed.
For some reason, the sight of it softens her tonight and she places a gentle kiss to the head of his erection before sucking the tip of him into her mouth. Matt groans, his hands finding their way into her hair and gripping tightly. She slides all the way down, holding him in the heat of her mouth for a moment and breathing in the scent of him, sweat and soap and something distinctive to Matt alone. This is always her favorite part – the power she holds over him just by using her
mouth.
She releases him again only to lick along the length of him greedily, running her tongue over the thick vein on the underside of his cock and Matt’s hands tighten in her hair, a needy sound escaping his throat. He cants his hips up in a desperate attempt to gain a little friction but Alex refuses to let him budge, her hands on his hips gripping firmly.
“Christ, Alex,” he whinges pitifully. “Stop teasing me.”
She smirks, tonguing at his slit. He cries out, his grip on her hair deliciously painful. Taking pity on him, she finally sets to work the way he loves best. He loves her mouth on him at all but he’s really delightfully responsive when she’s less precise and more sloppy, licking and sucking at him like a rapidly melting ice cream cone. He almost comes undone beneath her, this weak, inarticulate and babbling creature who asks for nothing but more. It makes Alex ache between her thighs and she has never enjoyed her mouth on someone quite as much as she does Matt.
She trails her tongue over his testicles, suckling at them, and he jerks above her, cursing and whimpering and muttering filthy things like ‘jesus christ, your fucking mouth’. Pleased, she rewards him by licking along his inner thighs and down, over his perineum and back up to his cock again, leaving him a twitching, panting mess beneath her.
“My husband,” she murmurs softly, and his cock jumps beneath her tongue as she laps at his tip.
“Alex, please.”
The way his voice breaks sends new warmth pooling between her legs and she slides her hands beneath him to cup his backside, tugging him closer as she begins working him over anew. She curls her tongue around him once before swallowing him all the way down, relaxing her throat and humming. Matt comes with a sob, his hips stuttering as he spills down her throat.
She swallows everything he gives her and when he’s spent, she slides him from between her lips and wipes at her mouth with the back of her hand. Matt reaches for her automatically, panting and bright-eyed as she crawls up to join him.
“Fucking hell,” he whispers, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her gratefully, moaning at the taste of his release on her tongue. “Your mouth is magnificent.”
She smiles, running her thumb over his cheekbone. “So you’ve said.”
“Still true.” He holds her against his chest and nuzzles his face into her neck, and while Alex loves the other parts too, this might be the moment she looks forward to most. He’s always so very warm and pliant after she does this for him, cuddling her affectionately and running his hands over her like a grateful boy who will do anything for just one more kiss.
“Glad you’re pleased with my services,” she teases, raking her fingers through his hair.
“And what about you?” His voice is soft and hesitant.
She lifts her head to look at him, smirking. “What? Am I pleased with your services?” She laughs. “You’re fantastic, darling.”
He flushes, looking smug. “I don’t just mean services. I mean…” He sighs, scratching his chin. “How do you think it’s going so far?”
“Ah,” she says knowingly. “Trying to suss out the state of our temporary marriage, are you?”
He squirms. “I think it’s going well.”
“Of course you do,” she giggles. “You just had a spectacular blowjob.”
Frowning, he looks at her anxiously. “You mean you’re not…happy?”
Softening, she lays a hand on his arm and leans up to kiss his cheek tenderly. “I never said that, darling.”
“Sorry,” he says, taking a deep breath and flopping back down on the bed. “I’m pushing you. Got another month anyway, right?”
He tries to keep his voice light but after so many months, Alex can detect the underlying sadness and it makes her chest tighten painfully. Not quite sure how to fix it, she curls herself around him
and kisses his chest. “Right.”
--
Month Six:
For the entirety of their last month together, Alex is on edge. And she’s not alone. Matt seems just as nervous as she is, though he does his best not to show it. At first, she’d been afraid that he was preparing himself to tell her he was ready to end things and was just hesitant to hurt her. But then he becomes unusually clingy, always reaching for her hand or touching some part of her at all times. He fiddles constantly with his wedding ring, looking at it like he misses it already and when he thinks she isn’t looking, the anxiety shows plainly on his face.
He’s afraid she wants out.
She still finds it hard to believe he doesn’t.
Alex finds herself thinking back on her horror the morning she woke up to find a wedding ring on her finger and Matt in her bed. It has worked out remarkably well, despite their age difference. She’s grown used to Matt in her life, texting or calling or just there, always.
The thought of signing papers and going their separate ways makes her feel absolutely ill. She isn’t quite sure how it happened, considering how opposed she used to be to the idea of marriage to him in the beginning, but Matt has carved himself a comfy little niche in her life and she would be emptier if he were to leave. He’d promised that things would work out for the best, and that he would make her happy, and he has. She likes to think she has made him happy too – she has certainly tried, in any case.
She likes making him happy, likes surprising him and making him laugh and giving him backrubs. She likes kissing him and listening to him read out loud to her; she likes the way he curls around her at night and sniffs her hair in his sleep. She likes how much he and Salome obviously adore each other. She likes how protective he can be and the way his fingers fit so perfectly between the spaces of her own.
She loves him, and she doesn’t want a divorce.
The revelation makes her nearly giddy and it takes all of her willpower not to leap from the bathtub where she’d had her epiphany and seek out Matt dripping bathwater everywhere just to tell him. But then she stops herself and decides to hold off on the news, just in case she’s been reading all his signals wrong. She hates the thought of being vulnerable and there is nothing more so than telling Matt she loves him right before he hands over divorce papers.
So she waits.
On the last day of their time together, Matt comes to her with trepidation in his eyes and she feels her heart rate climb instantly. She’s been expecting this conversation all day, and now that it’s finally here she knows she isn’t anywhere near as ready as she thought she was.
Forcing a smile, Alex looks up from her book on the sofa and asks, “Something you need, darling?”
Matt hovers anxiously in the doorway. “It’s been six months,” he says quietly, voice hoarse. “That was our agreement. So if you still want out, just tell me.”
He looks like a kicked puppy, curled in on itself and pouting miserably at the world at large, and Alex suddenly feels terrible for making him wait. She should have said something when she realized, because there is no mistaking the love in his eyes.
Swallowing around the sudden lump in her throat, she asks, “Do you want out?”
Glancing up in surprise, he shakes his head. “No! I love you, Alex – whatever decision you make.”
“Oh,” she says, and slowly closes her book, placing it on the coffee table in front of her with trembling hands. “Well that’s good.”
“It is?”
Oh bless. He looks like he’s going to be ill.
She nods, smiling softly as she stands. “Mhm.”
Watching her warily as she approaches him, he asks, “Why?”
“Because,” she walks her fingers up his chest slowly, her eyes bright as she tilts her head to meet his worried gaze, “I’ve decided I rather like being married to you.” As his whole face lights up, she adds as almost a side note, “Oh, and I’m a bit in love with you as well.”
His jaw drops as she grins. “You – Kingston, how long have you been carrying that little secret around?”
“All month,” she confesses, biting her lip guiltily.
“And you made me wait?” He tries to be angry but the look on his face is so overjoyed that he fails completely, and he gathers her into his arms instead, lifting her off her feet and holding her tightly. “Do you have any idea how terrified I’ve been, you little minx? I thought you were going to chuck me to the curb!”
Giggling, she trails her fingers down his cheek and presses her lips to his chin. “I’m sorry, darling. It was silly of me, but I thought you might want out and I didn’t want to -”
He interrupts her with a kiss and it’s perfect – worth every bit of months of fretting and waiting for the other shoe to drop, worth the drunken wedding kiss she can barely remember. It’s a kiss wrapped in promises for the future, and winding her arms around his neck, Alex twists her wedding band around her finger, looking forward to every bit of it.
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