Always and Forever
Summary: The night everything changed for Will and Magnus, nothing really changed at all. Magnus/Will romance written for diviniaserit
Rating: M for sexual content
Spoilers: Through "Kali"
Author's Note: Auction!fic written to raise funds for the Haiti relief effort (the auction was handled by the help_haiti comm. At Livejournal). diviniaserit chose to donate to the Haiti Relief Fund of the Christian relief organization World Vision (whose main focuses are emergency relief, education, health care, economic development, and the promotion of justice and who provide services to the needy without regard to their race, ethnicity, gender, or religion -- and, yes, I totally got all that information off of wikipedia, lol). Enjoy the fic!
Always and Forever
Will had been with Helen Magnus for four years when everything changed.
Year one had seen him a student, a year marked by discovery. Year two had been a year of growth, still a protégé but more equal, more willing to call his mentor on her mistakes, to celebrate with her in her triumphs, to mourn with her in her despair; and they both lost so very much that year but it was always okay because they always had each other. Year three was dedication in the face of her betrayal by most everyone she thought she could trust, a year of digging in and staying strong and always having her back.
And then there was year four. A year of discovery and growth and dedication and, which was familiar but also new, of quiet understandings. A year of after-hours conversations and knowing looks, of completing sentences for one another and acting in accord without so much as glancing at each other for confirmation. The year he became her equal, not in experience or education but in passion and commitment and tenacity and all the other things that had always drawn him to her.
Not the year her mission became his; that had happened ages ago. But the year he could look her in the eye without a blush or a sense of being the lesser of the two. The year he realized that 'stubborn bastard' and 'cheeky monkey' were both things she valued in him every bit as much as his quick wit and willingness to question everything.
Things were crazy in the fall of that year. The Cabal was doing its damndest to rebuild and the strife within the Sanctuary Network hadn't settled much in the two years since India and Kali and Wexford and Bertha. Gone underground, which was worse, and not settled remotely. It was an insecure time, for her and for those that followed her and trusted to her.
They could go days or even weeks without seeing each other outside of briefings, which neither liked. So Will had developed the habit of showing up in her office more evenings than not with two steaming mugs and they'd talk. Sometimes about work, sometimes about nothing at all. But, always, they'd sit and smile and share more with lasting looks and fleeting touches than with words and those quite moments would make the next day worth enduring.
And not once did it occur to Will that anything had changed between them. Evenings in her office now seemed no different than evenings on the roof of the North Tower in the beginning. Except that he understood her better and, as a result, got more from those fifteen or twenty minutes of conversation than he had in the past from hours up on that roof. No matter how crappy life was, they were good times. Warm times. The kind of times that were nothing new but still managed to change everything.
"Milady," Will murmured, passing her a mug of tea over the top of the report she was reading.
She looked up, seeming as startled as ever by his 'intrusion' despite the fact that he did it more nights than not.
"Oh, thank you, Will," she murmured with a smile, taking the tea. She pinched the bridge of her nose and frowned up at him. "What time is it?"
"Little after eleven," he told her, sitting down with his own mug. "Late night?"
"Mmm," she agreed, pinching the bridge of her nose again. "You?"
"Little. Had a patient who needed an ear. You? I mean, obviously something's come up unless you find those intake reports I sent you damned scintillating…"
She smiled and shook her head. "Intra-Network reports on… who can be trusted."
He frowned faintly at that. More than two years after Wexford and Big Bertha and it was never anything but infuriating that there were still people within the Sanctuary Network who doubted her. Yes, she'd lied and broken an ass-load of rules but who hadn't, really? As far as he was concerned, she deserved the benefit of the doubt.
"So, my first year as a Fed, my testimony helped get this guy off on RICO charges, Jimmy 'the Switchblade' Gianni."
"Sounds like a delightful gentleman," she answered dryly.
"Anyway, he owes me a favor and I figures if youse need any kneecaps busted," he told her in an Italian accent.
"That's the worst Pesci I've ever heard," she informed him with a smirk.
"Aw, come on now, Boss. The offer was made in good faith…"
"A passable de Niro," she answered, smiling at him and putting aside the file she was reading. "But truly not necessary, Will."
"Hey, if people are giving you crap," he began, sans accent this time since he was being entirely serious.
"No more than usual," Magnus assured him, leaning across the couch and as always pretending not to notice that his mug held only milk and no tea as she pressed her lips to his cheek. "But thank you, Will."
He turned his head to tell her any time only to realize with a blush that she hadn't drawn back. It wasn't the first time that their lips had touched in the course of a friendly kiss or an attempt at resuscitation or simply because one was leaning too close to examine the other's work, but it was most decidedly the first time it happened in which one or the other didn't immediately back down.
He could have handled that, but then she made a curious noise and continued to not draw back. And that curious noise from her made it impossible for him to back away himself because, whatever he normally would have done, that quizzical sound of hers was also, unmistakably, inviting.
He wasn't sure who moaned or who decided that the two and a half feet separating them on the couch was too much. All he knew was that she was suddenly in his arms and he in hers and that a thousand friendly kisses were nothing in comparison to their first real one.
Like their relationship to date, this had a little conflict, a little confusion, a good deal of exploration, and an almost obscene amount of mutual understanding. It was as if they'd done this a hundred times before, as if the nuances were no surprise. And then she pulled away, a faint smile on her face as she peered at him through half-closed eyes as though seeing him for the first time.
"My room," she told him, climbing to her feet and offering her hand.
He accepted it and stood immediately but regarded her breathlessly, unsure.
"Magnus, this is…"
"Nothing you've ever wanted from me before."
"Or something I've only been waiting for for some time now, Will?"
He shook his head. "I can't buy that you've wanted me and never said."
"I didn't want you before," she answered, giving his hand a squeeze. "Neither of us was ready."
"And you think we are all of the sudden?"
She squeezed his hand, drawing him closer with a faint smile. "Tell me what you see when you look at me."
"What?" he asked, frowning.
"Humor me, Will," she directed, voice firm but expression reassuring. "Look at me and tell you what you see."
"Be honest. I won't be upset."
"I see… a woman completely out of my league."
She smiled faintly, expression almost shy for a second before she was her usual serene and serious self again. "What else?"
Will hesitated, not sure what she expected him to say and at the kind of loss he hadn't been with her in years.
Magnus closed what little distance remained between them, pressing her cheek to his as her breasts lightly brushed his chest through the thin cotton of his t-shirt, a gentle pressure rendered more sensual by how uninsistent it was.
"Be honest," she murmured, squeezing his hands again. "I won't be upset."
"You're uh… an amazing, brilliant scientist and such a passionate advocate and… you can be so annoying sometimes with how stubborn you are," he admitted since she'd asked for honesty. "But you… you just inspire people and… I don't know what you want to hear," he finished apologetically.
"Perhaps it's more about the words I hoped not to hear?" she answered, lips brushing his cheek as she spoke. "Words like 'mentor' and 'role-model' and 'savior', Will. Words that always precluded anything other than simple friendship."
"You were waiting for me to stop seeing you as…" he began, staring.
"Perhaps not consciously, but I can't deny it. The knowledge that you no longer see me through the eyes of a little boy is… well, rather intoxicating to be honest."
She dropped his hands and moved away quickly, walking to the hearth to put out the fire burning there. Will's body ached at her withdraw but he knew her better than to see it as a rejection. When Helen Magnus needed a minute to breathe and to think, she took it without apology or explanation. She'd spent so many years living life on her terms and hers alone that the niceties could elude her. It didn't mean she was unwilling, only rattled.
Perhaps she even meant to give him time to change his mind, but his mind liked the place it found itself in, a place where he could imagine himself slowly and lovingly removing every stitch of clothing from her body without feeling the slightest blush of anything other than anticipation.
There had been fantasies before, of course. Rather juvenile ones by day: stolen kisses on the roof of the North Tower or in her office right before the Morning Briefing. More disturbing ones in the dead of night where he woke up drenched in sweat and remembering being tied to a certain chair in a certain submarine, the blood singing in his ears as he tried to sort out whether what he was feeling was terror or arousal. None he'd ever allowed himself to consider with any seriousness or even at any length. Imagining her in that context had always come with shame and fear and the feeling that he wasn't good enough and a certain sense of dirtiness as if viewing her as a woman demeaned them both.
Now, though, he watched her put out the fire and could see himself in his mind's eye approaching her from behind, kissing her shoulder as his hands made short work of the buttons on her blouse so his fingertips could experience the flesh concealed behind them.
And the mental images felt good and natural and exciting which meant she was right. Something between them had changed.
"I know you like your affairs casual," he began, hating the way the word 'casual' felt and sounded and tasted on his tongue as he said it, but needing to be clear. He hadn't had a one-night-stand sober since his college days and, with her, that would be worse than never having known her like this at all.
She turned from the remains of the fire with a startled expression. "I could never do that to you, Will," she told him quietly, eyes not meeting his. "I can't promise much, but I can promise that 'casual' isn't a word I could ever associate with any facet of our relationship."
He groaned at that before he could stop himself. He'd always felt accepted by her but to be accepted by her in this…
His relationships had always been troubled things. Before the Sanctuary, a lot of that had stemmed from his own feelings of low self-worth, his conviction that he had something to prove and a desperate degree of defensiveness. Since coming here, his relationships had been troubled for other reasons: physical and emotional distance, his dedication to Magnus first, the Sanctuary second and his own personal life dead last, his fear of having another lover slaughtered like Clara.
But this was Magnus, who had helped him believe in himself in the first place, who never needed him to prove anything or be anyone other than himself. A woman he was closer to than anyone on the planet who could take care of herself and everyone else at the same time. A woman who would always be with him even if he lost her.
She watched him in silence as these thoughts tumbled through his mind. She was calm and still as he considered them but looked undeniably relieved when he realized how perfect they could be for each other.
"You arrived there with more speed than I did," she murmured, extending both hands but not moving from her station on the hearth.
"You've thought about this before?" he asked, startled by the idea.
"When one sleeps as little as I do, one must find some mental pursuit to while away the nights."
And, in something Will had never expected to see from her in his life, she blushed like a schoolgirl, casting her eyes down and away. Genuinely shy.
Which, for some reason, was all he needed to see for the matter to cement itself in his mind. He closed the distance to her before she could drop her hands, sliding his fingers through hers and squeezing lightly.
"This will change--" he began.
"Nothing, Will," she told him, shaking her head and looking up at him with a smile that was loving and timid and eager at once. "It will change nothing except for this one thing. I've found something from you I never expected to find in another human being again and I won't let it go whether we prove to be compatible sexually or not. It's been far too long since anyone made me feel normal."
"Well, you'll never catch me going as far as to call you normal but I understand what you're getting at," he answered, smiling shyly at her. "Let me take you to bed, Magnus," he added, unable to believe that he was saying these words to her but adoring the way they sounded and felt.
"I'd like that very much, Will," she answered, looping one arm through his and steering them from the office.
He walked with her in silence, heart in his throat in a pleasant way he'd come to miss. Everything about the way she was handling this promised a slow, loving exploration rather than something fumbling and frantic where the only goal was to cross the finish line.
"Do you have protection?" he murmured as they approached the door to her quarters. "I think I may in my room, but…"
It had been a long time, though. Even if he still did have condoms kicking around, good luck finding the things on short notice.
"I prefer to handle such things in my own way," she answered, giving him a reassuring smile and squeezing his arm. "Unless you have reason to suspect that your STD status has changed since your last physical, nothing of that sort is necessary from you."
"Oh, no. I'm totally clean," he assured her, mouth going dry at the idea of making love to her without barriers. Somehow that had always been hotter to him even if he did insist on protection with most women.
"Clean, hmm? You won't be feeling that way for very long," she assured him with a smirk that left his pants feeling several sizes too small, unlocking her door and sliding inside.
It took him a minute to remember to follow and, when he had, she was not in her sitting room. Swallowing against the lump in his throat, he crossed that room and shyly entered her actual bedroom. He'd been here before, just never for this reason and suddenly the dark woods and rich crimson fabrics and lingering smell of sandalwood incense and a recent fire took on a new feel, ridiculously sensual unless he was imagining things.
She was standing there, halfway between the door and the bed, just waiting. For a split-second, he could have sworn there was something almost demure in her manner. Then she smiled up at him, warm and open and Magnus as she extended one hand.
He took it as readily as he always had, not sure how this was going to work and less sure he cared. Given how forceful she was in her daily life, part of him was afraid she would throw him onto the mattress and simply ravish him. The rest of him knew better and wasn't remotely surprised when she simply drew him close and wrapped her arms around him, hands coming to rest on his shoulders.
"Will," she breathed, resting her forehead against his.
"Magnus," he answered, letting his arms close around her and just standing there in her embrace, giving them both time to acclimate to this new situation.
After a moment's silence, she told him, "It's been a very long time since I've taken anyone to bed I trust as much as I trust you."
His eyes widened. No pressure there.
"I just want to make you happy," he told her. "Tell me what you like and it's yours."
"Tonight, all I want is to have you close. We can figure out the rest as we go," she promised, drawing away slightly and urging him towards the bed.
He followed on shaky legs, heart in his throat and so turned on that walking was awkward. Fortunately, some of his meds meant that this wouldn't be over quickly for him. Always, but in this case especially, that was more a blessing than a side-effect and he was duly grateful for the opportunity to take his time with her. Sensing a shadow of uncertainty from her, he sat, taking her hand and drawing her to sit next to him.
"I hope you don't mind if we go a little slow," he murmured, cradling her cheek in one hand and stroking her cheek in what he hoped was a soothing manner.
"It's not a luxury I've had in some time," she admitted, smiling a little sheepishly as she leaned her face into his touch. "But I've enjoyed it the times I have experienced it."
"Good, because I have a lot to learn here," he answered quietly, touching his forehead to hers before bringing his lips to her cheek, kissing and nuzzling until he felt her begin to relax.
He hadn't expected it to be like this. She wasn't shy or afraid or anything close, but her unwillingness to take control surprised him. He would have expected her to be a slight Dom, not necessarily pushy but certainly commanding. She wasn't, though. Nor was she remotely submissive. She seemed comfortable to simply let Will find his own pace for now.
When he brought his lips to hers for a tender and chaste kiss, she matched him in passion and intensity for what felt like a small eternity before parting her lips, her tongue darting out to drag across his lower lip only to withdraw the second his own tongue tried to find hers. He was startled enough by that to pull back, only to see her giving him a playful, challenging look.
He chuckled softly, cradling her face again and, accepting the permission, letting his tongue trace and memorize her lips before gently prodding them apart and beginning to really explore her. She moaned quietly when his tongue found a ticklish spot, then giggled when he wouldn't leave it alone.
"Will!" she protested with a laugh, pulling back and staring at him with wide, sparkling eyes. "What on Earth?"
Her manner told him that the playfulness hadn't been amiss, so he fixed her with a loving leer and told her, "You think that's bad, wait until I have your clothes off."
"Now that sounds like a challenge," she crooned, catching his hands and bringing them to the buttons of her blouse.
He groaned as he popped the first button and then the next. "I, uh… have a few minor kinks," he began a little breathlessly.
"Undressing your partner obviously being on the list," she noted with a curious smile. "Why?"
"Trust from you, desire from me. It's… it expresses…"
"What's behind the encounter, of course," she agreed, letting him slide the shirt off her shoulders but catching his hand when he reached around her for the clasp on her bra. "Do you like to watch, Will?"
He moaned softly in answer, flushing at the idea of watching her doing anything. She smiled at that response, reaching behind her to unclasp the lacey bra and sliding it off with almost torturous slowness, casting it aside and resting her hands low on her stomach for a moment before sliding them up towards her breasts, her eyes never leaving his face.
"I find," she told him, cupping her breasts and dragging her thumbs across her already-hardened nipples with a low moan, "that one learns a great deal from simply observing." Smiling, she added, "A sentiment I'm sure you of all people can appreciate."
He nodded breathlessly, heart speeding as he memorized the speed and angle of her self-stimulation. "What… what a lover enjoys," he agreed.
"Indeed," she answered, fingertips circling her nipples a few times before she let her hands fall away and find his, intertwining their fingers and squeezing. "For instance, I now know that you find a partner's pleasure erotic in its own right quite aside from what a satisfied partner can do for you physically."
Rather than answer, he leaned forward and kissed her, moaning when he felt her hands delve under his t-shirt and slowly drag it up his torso. Finding her breasts with his hands, he deepened the kiss, smiling when he drew a gasp from her with his fingers against her nipples.
She broke the kiss long enough to murmur, "Cheeky," and to pull his shirt off, then slid off her shoes and moved deeper into the giant four-poster bed, lifting a finger and beckoning with a gentle smile.
"Magnus," he breathed, kicking off his sneakers and following her across the mattress.
Leaning back against the headboard, she smiled at him, one hand tracing lazy patterns low on her stomach as he moved to her.
"Energetic, observant, eager to please…" she breathed as he reached her side, and Will could see the pulse on her throat fluttering fast as she considered how that would translate here.
"You really have no idea," he answered, kissing her lovingly and letting his fingertips trace the lines and angles of her stomach and sides until she began to shift restlessly.
He moaned as he forced his lips to leave hers, but smiled when the kisses and licks he trailed down her throat earned a low moan from her. He doubted she would be able to stay still for much longer but he savored it while he had it, letting his tongue, lips, and teeth explore her smooth and, he noticed from this distance for the first time, quite freckled skin.
He swirled his tongue around the hollow of her throat, drawing back to puff cool air across the damp skin and earning a gasp from her. Moaning happily, he continued to move lower, nuzzling one breast before bringing his tongue to firmly circle the nipple.
"Will!" she gasped, one hand tangling in his hair as the other grabbed a handful of the blankets under her. "God…"
He smiled and let his tongue travel around her nipple a few more times before drawing back and blowing again, earning another, louder gasp from her as her hands tightened in his hair and around the blanket. He smiled breathlessly up at her, trembling as much from excitement as arousal as she stared at him with wide, wondering eyes. He hadn't expected moves from the standard playbook to do this much for her and, from the look on her face, neither had she.
"Come here, love," she panted, reaching for him.
Nodding, he slid up her body, kissing her tenderly and taking note of the way she seemed to be trying to get as much of her own taste from his tongue as she could. That was promising in ways he chose not to examine too closely yet because he was far too wired to think of some of the other tastes they might find themselves sharing if she continued to give him this free a rein with her body.
"Will," she breathed against his lips. "Think less."
He stared at her in surprise, not sure what to make of that directive. Until she captured his lips with hers and gave him a kiss that made his usual, thoughtful approach to lovemaking impossible. It was a kiss of passion and love and enthusiasm and it left him breathless and unable to do anything but follow his own impulses. Whimpering and moaning, he returned the kiss deeply, pressing his arousal down into her hips.
"Mmm," she groaned, arching into him and nodding breathlessly, squirming and sliding under him. "Fewer clothes."
"Yeah," he rasped, kissing her frantically as he fumbled with the button of her slacks, hands shaking with need and anxiety. He was never going to be able to give her what a person of her experience needed from a lover.
"Breathe, love," she directed gently, taking his face in her hands and resting her forehead against his. He had no idea how she went from 'breathless with desire' to 'calm and soothing' so fast, but he was grateful for it. "It's only me. You don't have to worry."
"But, I… you…" he began, shaking his head.
"You make me so wonderfully happy every day, Will. This won't be different, I promise. Just be the Will I know and love. The rest will take care of itself."
"I love you. I think I have since I was eight."
"Which means that this can only go well. Come here," she directed, kissing him tenderly and sliding her hands up his chest.
He gasped as her fingers connected with his nipples, arching into her delicate touch and moaning at the way she seemed to know exactly how to bring him high but not too high. Angling into her feather-light caresses, he dropped his lips to her shoulder, kissing the first freckle he found and then another and another after that. He wanted to kiss all of them, but he doubted there were enough hours in the night. Not that it mattered when they had their whole lives ahead.
She smiled down at him, one fingertip tracing a scar on his clavicle where he'd been knifed a year or so back by a hostile abnormal before she bent to trace it with the tip of her tongue. He gasped, startled by how wonderful that felt, not just physically but emotionally: warm and loving and obscurely soothing.
"Wow…" he managed, voice shaking with surprise and pleasure and the desire for more.
She planted a tender kiss to the scar and smiling up at him, biting her lip. "We'll play this game more thoroughly another time," she promised. "Scar-tissue can be surprisingly sensitive and the added elements of vulnerability and of trust only heighten the experience."
He swallowed hard, considering her words with a euphoric sense of not-anxiety. In the past four years, he'd taken his fair share of scars and, after 160 years, her body was a virtual roadmap of the things.
"Can I…" he began.
"Mhmm," she agreed with a loving smile, seeming to consider for a moment before indicating a ragged scar just under and to one side of her left breast, small and raised around the edges but depressed in the center.
Eyes widening, he traced it lightly with one fingertip, staring. He'd seen her naked plenty of times during physicals or first aid or various emergencies, but he'd never stopped to consider that scar distinct from all the others.
"Yes. Egypt in the late 1950s. We were transporting a family of precognitives to safety and were unfortunately drawn into a local dispute."
"And you've never been one to back down in the face of… anything," he noted, watching her with unabashed admiration as he continued to trace and caress the scar.
"No," she agreed with a happy sigh, eyes half-closing. "I never have."
"It feels good to have it touched?" he asked softly.
"Did it feel good when it was the scar on your shoulder, Will? Different scars have different associations, granted," she told him in a tone that promised future exploration of that fact, "but the trust involved in something like this adds a tremendously positive facet to the experience."
He bit his lip. "And you said you trust me… more than you usually trust lovers?"
"I do. Eager to try something that requires my trust?" she asked, eyes laughing.
"No, just trying to understand."
"Think less," she repeated, beaming at him. "It's just us and we have always been good at being what the other needs."
"True," he agreed, biting his lip and leaning forward to kiss her as he traced the scar more firmly.
She moaned against his lips, kissing him hungrily.
"Magnus," he breathed, bringing his hands to her breasts as they kissed, fingertips exploring the soft, firm swells. When she whimpered, twisting under his hands, obviously needing more, he caught her nipples between his thumbs and index fingers, rolling them gently. "More?"
"Yes, Will. How do you feel about being on the bottom, love?" she panted against his lips.
He groaned, wondering how she'd known. Most women assumed that preference of his was some ridiculous attempt at submissiveness but Magnus knew him way too well for that. A woman on top, with more control over the encounter, was simply more likely to walk away satisfied. And she definitely knew him well enough to know that he liked to make people happy.
"Will," she breathed, unbuttoning his jeans and slowly unzipping them, watching his face without much lust but with a great deal of desire and anticipation.
"I love you," he repeated as she urged his jeans and boxers down, moaning at the look she gave his arousal once it was exposed.
"And I love you, Will," she murmured, shifting forward to kiss him as she helped him the rest of the way out of his jeans. "Look at you," she breathed, unabashedly drinking in the sight of him naked and needing her.
Dragging her tongue slowly across her lips, she brought his hands to the button of her slacks, face and chest flush. Moaning his name, she brought one hand to cradle his face as he worked, her thumb stroking his lips firmly as she watched him with as much affection as want.
Her other hand moved lower, the tip of her index finger sliding up the underside of his length in a slow, firm touch that left it damp and twitching.
"Magnus," he groaned, sliding her slacks and panties off with shaking hands.
The simple blue cotton was unexpected but somehow more of a turn-on than something obviously donned in anticipation of a tryst had ever been to him. The panties were like the encounter itself, simple and basic and comfortable and lacking in expectations. She was biting her lip when he looked up at her, obviously pleased with his reaction.
"Hey," he teased, leaning forward to nip at her lip. "That's my job now."
"Of course; my mistake," she answered, affecting a pout that left that lip sticking out invitingly.
She moaned when he caught it between his own lips to suck it firmly, her eyelids fluttering. He sighed softly when she gently urged him back onto the bed, not making him surrender one bit of control. He deepened the kiss as his back found the mattress, hands finding her inner thighs and teasing lovingly.
"Will," she breathed, nodding and arching into his hands as she just let him kiss and caress her. "Love…"
It was his turn to moan then, that word from her lips like that comforting and exciting at once. "Now, Magnus?" he offered, aching to feel her around his straining arousal.
"I thought you would never ask," she answered, positioning herself over him and taking him in with a single, sure motion.
He gasped at the speed with which she was suddenly all around him, warm and welcoming and so accepting and loving. Gasping and trembling with shock and arousal and something that felt very much like relief, he stared up at her. She was poised over him, hands braced on the headboard and perfectly still. Her face was a mask of love and pleasure but tinged with something that he doubted any other lover had ever noticed in her before.
Because now she was going to have to bury one more friend and colleague and lover. And, this time, a lover with whom she shared more than just the physical because he had been a colleague and a friend first.
"Magnus," he breathed, voice hitching as he was suddenly assaulted with as much pain as pleasure. Reaching for her face, she drew her down to him. "I'm here now and I will always love you and be with you. You… you have to believe that. I won't be gone, even when it seems like I am."
"Will?" Her eyes widened and her sorrow was replaced by an almost wondering smile as she finally seemed to understand the depths of his dedication to her and his resolve to be what she needed.
"Love," he murmured, giving her a kiss that was ridiculously chaste given the fact that he was completely buried in her warmth.
She gave a relieved groan, hips beginning to move at a pace so slow it would have seemed teasing if her muscles hadn't been making up for the lack of speed with wave after wave of glorious pressure.
"Will," she moaned against his lips, hands tangled in the blankets on either side of his face. "My Will…"
"Always," he agreed breathlessly, nodding and thrusting up to meet her.
She let out a cry, head falling back as her muscles spasmed around him. Whimpering in encouragement, Will continued to thrust into her, helping her follow her earlier advice to him and to just think less. He doubted she noticed his tiny variations in speed, angle, and force, but he noticed her slightly stronger or weaker reactions and was soon pushing up into her in a way that had her weeping with pleasure, swaying above him and chanting his name like a mantra.
He was glad for his meds again because he didn't think he'd have been able to keep it together without them, not seeing her like this, feeling the rippling pressure up and down his aching arousal as he shared this with her, not just sex but a promise to always be with her in some way.
Breathing he'd been managing to control to that point turned into a series of whimpered gasps when she put her hands to use, one massaging his sac and the other rolling and tugging one of her own nipples.
Grabbing a fistful of the blanket and fighting the growing urge to finish right then, he brought his free hand between them, fingertips circling her arousal as he began to thrust into her harder.
"Yes!" she screamed, head falling back as her entire body bowed above him, taut with pleasure and building tension.
He let out a cry of his own as she abruptly tightened around him, making his vision swim as pleasure washed over him and tension coiled low in his belly. Ignoring his own build, he focused on hers, effort evenly divided between bringing himself lower and her higher.
"Will, Will, willwillwillwillwill," she sobbed, her entire body shaking as she nodded urgently, her hips driving down to meet his thrusts with an increasing lack of coordination.
Past anything like the ability to speak, he tried to make his pants and whimpers sound soothing, pretty sure she was past even noticing but not caring. He was past noticing much other than the joy they were giving each other, too.
She gasped through her sobbed chant, eyes widening as she began to shake harder, and Will took the opportunity, thrusting into her harder and faster as his fingers stroked her arousal urgently. Her climax came quickly then, and Will reached up to steady the sobbing woman as she jerked against him, her muscles squeezing and tugging until he was pulled over the edge with her. Pleasure crashed over him in white-hot waves as he moved with her, pouring more of himself into her with each jump of his hips.
There was almost a sense of loss when it passed, but he ignored that in favor of enjoying the singing ache of his exhausted muscles and, of course, the state of the woman trembling against his chest.
"Mmm," he managed, as close as he could get to her name right now.
He continued to move his hips under her, aware that, even though her climax was past, she was still lost in pleasure. She gasped quietly at his first soft thrust, moaning at his second and kissing his shoulder weakly as he continued to move gently under her.
He stilled after losing himself in the sight and sound and feel of her satisfaction for a small eternity, drifting pleasantly and feeling euphoric between her pleasure and his own.
"Will," she moaned finally, sounding younger and happier than he'd ever heard her.
"Your Will," he agreed, nuzzling her shoulder. "Always, Magnus."
"My pleasure. Literally."
"Cheeky," she scoffed, swatting at him weakly.
"I will be with you forever, Magnus," he told her honestly, gently angling her face so she could see the truth in his eyes.
"So I've finally come to understand," she answered with a slightly wry smile, stroking his cheek lovingly. "It's been more than a hundred years since I asked this of a lover, Will, but would you like to stay the night?"
"As often as you let me, Magnus," he assured her, kissing her with quiet passion, a promise of things to come.
"If you keep doing that, I'll never be able to sleep, Will. And for a change, I feel like I very easily could."
"Then I'll save it for morning," he answered, kissing her more chastely.
She returned the kiss with a happy sigh before settling comfortably against his chest and reaching for a blanket, drawing it over them.
"Sweet dreams, love," she breathed against his shoulder.
"You, too, love," he answered, pressing a kiss to her hair. "I'll see you in a few hours."
"Mmm," she mumbled with a faint nod, her body completely relaxed against his.
Smiling and sighing happily, Will cradled his lover close as he drifted. Forever was a long time, but he'd meant what he said. They'd always be a part of each other. This hadn't made that the case, only let her see it clearly and, for that, he was grateful.