He was 106 before they even got to second base.
Will had turned fifty when they both had to admit that he wasn't ageing, that he had barely aged a day since she'd first hit him with her car. There was some denial in not talking about it, at least on Helen's side, but everyone else mentioned it, Kate and Henry both aged, even the big guy got a few greys hairs, but Will retained his baby-face.
There had never been anything in his physical make-up to suggest he was abnormal, not when he joined her at the Sanctuary, and not when she did more extensive tests twenty years later. She theorised two possibilities; either there was something left over in him from his transformation into an abnormal when her own fathers formula's turned him into an abnormal prize-fighter, or it was genetic and there was no visible evidence. Neither of them knew much about his father. They weren't sure if he were immortal or just not ageing back then.
When he was 106, he decided he was probably immortal like Helen.
He always figured Helen was a patient woman due to her age, and she had told him a few times, as he got older he would find more patience too. It wasn't like he wasn't a patient man already, though, just when it came to Helen Magnus.
They had flirted on and off for seventy years, had kissed a couple of times, Will remembering each perfectly. Once when he turned sixty, a birthday kiss gotten a little hotter than either of them had expected and he had tried to take it further, but she'd pulled away from him before he could get further than cupping her cheek. She kissed him out of sadness when the big guy died, her oldest friend and greatest confidence, that had outlived any other friend, and he had kissed back, then pulled away to hold her as she cried. That was 17 years ago, and it had been light, chaste pecks on the cheeks since then and little more.
To his dismay.
He wasn't sure why 106 seemed to become the age were he decided he was immortal, or why he decided enough was enough, why he was done dancing around Helen. Maybe because they hadn't even thought about it for a while, over the past twenty years they hadn't discussed his age, his youthful appearance, it had become a background issue almost as they worked on everything else, worked on expanding the Sanctuary network even further. By time he was 100, most major cities in the US had Sanctuaries, and there was one in every country, he and Magnus were working harder now than ever before, but he didn't even feel the extra strain, despite his advanced age and Helen didn't seem to notice it either, despite being over 200.
He hadn't noticed at first, but in the Old City, it had become just the two of them, and he understood why. Loosing their best friends had taken it's toll on both of them, and Helen had experienced this several times over, and other than the abnormals they kept and treated in the Old City, it was just them.
He didn't feel lonely though.
Because he had Magnus.
He was 106 when he realised that he'd been in love with her for the better part of a century.
She was in the sitting room, the old building had barely changed over the years like the two of them, the familiar surroundings comforting to them both, when he brought her in a glass of wine, something from 2007 that she would enjoy, draining his own for courage before he stood by the fire place and looked at her. He was pretty sure this sort of thing was supposed to get easier as you got older, and at over 100, he shouldn't need the courage, but he did, he felt it, felt the nerves low in his belly, mixing with the arousal that he felt whenever he saw Magnus.
Which he had gotten used to over the past seventy years.
He looked over at her, jumping at the sound of her voice.
"You're pacing. Something on your mind?" she asked, patting the empty space on sofa next to her. He stared at it, but remained on his feet.
"Evidently," she said, raising an eyebrow, and standing up, putting the wine and her book to one side. He wasn't sure how, but she was never short of reading material. "Talk to me."
"I'm 106," he started, hesitating over his next words.
"Yes, Will, I remember your birthday every year," she said, with a smile, "feeling old?"
"Never," he said, smiling.
She was looking at him, scrutinising him, and he waited for her to finish before speaking. She didn't give him a chance to say anything though, kissing him on the lips softly. He didn't respond at first, too stunned to move, but she persevered, her tongue touching his lips, and he moaned and kissed her back, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. Their tongues met, and she tasted of the '07 Merlot and something sweet, and he groaned again, trying to hold back because he had been the one planning to make a move, but it was been Helen to cross the line. Unless this wasn't going anywhere, but the way she was running her hands under his t-shirt, and pushing her hips into his, gave him the idea that they would be moving a little further along this time.
She broke the kiss and smiled at him.
"Seventy years and you still call me by my surname," she said, sighing, but still smiling.
"Helen," he tried, "what are you doing?"
"Saving you the trouble of trying to seduce me," she said, going to kiss him again. Enclosed against the side of the fireplace, unable to step away, he held her back so he could talk. So he could think.
"Helen," he repeated, and she sighed again, this time frowning.
"I knew your intentions William, I know you too well."
"Okay, well, you still surprise me sometimes, and, why now?"
"You were going to seduce me," she said, hands still under his t-shirt and running down his back gently. He shivered, leaning into her again, going to kiss her, but hesitating.
"This isn't the first time we've played this game," he said, "you're always the one to pull away."
"You weren't ready then," she said, pulling her hands from beneath his t-shirt and taking his hand. She proceeded to pull him across the room and onto the sofa, pushing him down, pulling her skirt up her pale thighs and straddling him.
"I wasn't ready?" he asked.
"No," she said, smiling. "Now, would you like to continue to be seduced, or talk some more?"
He was a little ashamed that he had to think about it, even if it was just for a few seconds, but he made his decision the moment his right hand touched her bare thigh, kissing her hard and pulling her towards him with his other arm. She moaned into his mouth, hands going into his hair, and he knew he wouldn't be able to say much for a while, he could already feel his brain switching off. Her lips were so soft, and he ran his hand further up her thigh, fingers at the edge of her underwear.
She broke the kiss, leaned back a little, pulling at his t-shirt so he could get it up over his head. Which meant he had to move his hand from her leg, and he wasn't happy about that, but as soon as his hands were free again, he pushed her skirt higher, and Helen stroked her hands over his chest, pulling at his nipples. He groaned, and pressed his fingers against the damp patch on the silk of her underwear, rubbing her, bending his head down to kiss her exposed cleavage. Helen rocked her hips into his fingers, moaning, and he kissed her again, not to silence the sound but to taste her again, his senses exploding.
"More," she whispered against his lips, and he ran his fingers along the edge of her underwear before pushing underneath the material, and searching out her clit, pressing down on her. Her hips bucked and he smiled, kissing her still, it was a pleasure and delight to do that to Helen Magnus.
Her hands went to the bulge in his jeans, stroking him through the denim, and he groaned into her mouth, pushing his fingers into her body and she whimpered quietly. He pushed his hips up into her hand, and she unzipped him, pulling his erection free and wrapping her hand around him, stroking him hard. He needed her, needed more, and without pulling his hand from her body, he undid the belt on his jeans, opening them fully. He pulled Helen close to him again, and she rose up, forcing his fingers from her, and replacing them with his erection, slowly, slowly taking him into her body, underwear simply pushed to the side. He held his breath, not daring to breathe or move, until he was completely inside of her tight body, unable to look away from pleasure on her face.
She started to move immediately, hands gripping his shoulders, her internal muscles gripping his dick and his head started to spin. He started to undo the buttons of her blouse, almost ripping it off her before simply pulling her bra down so he could take a nipple into his mouth. She cried out, rhythm faltering a little, nails digging into his skin.
He wasn't going to last. Not this first time. It was overwhelming, and he moved his hands to her hips to thrust up into her body, grunting with every deep push.
"Will," she moaned, "please help," she hissed, and he was more than willing to accommodate, one hand slipping between them and searching out her clit once more, pressing down hard and making her cry out again.
Not much longer, he knew it, and he tried to time his fingers and thrusts, but couldn't quite coordinate himself. 106 years old and first times were still awkward, he thought, and then he was coming hard into her body, shouting her name and shaking, fingers slipping from her clit. She didn't need it though, didn't need him, she pushed her own hand between them, pressing down on her clit, and pushing herself over the edge, crying out wordlessly.
She collapsed against him, both of them breathing hard, and he moved to pull her down with him to lie on the sofa. They held each other for a little while, and Will tried to remember how to breathe normally, taking in the scent of Helen Magnus and sex, enjoying to feel of her body fully pressed against his.
"You're beautiful," he told her, slurring slightly as he felt sleep claim him.
He woke a few hours later when Helen was untangling herself from him and getting up. She smiled at him and held out her hand.
"Come to bed William," she said, with a smile, pulling her skirt down with her other hand, her blouse still hanging open but her bra already back in place.
"Sure," he said, half asleep.
Hand in hand they headed up to her bedroom, and he watched her strip and get into the bed, before pulling off his own jeans and joining her. He wrapped his arms around her, and she rested her head on his chest and realised that part of him hadn't expected this tonight, even if it had been his intention.
"You never told me," he said, remembering how this evening had started. "Why now? Why wasn't I ready before?"
She shifted to sit up and look down at him.
"Our extended lives means commitment is a little more serious," she said. "You weren't ready before, for extended commitment."
"And I am now? Magnus, I've always been there for you."
"You haven't always truly been aware of your immortality before. Not deep down," she said.
"How could you possibly know that?" he asked.
"I've known you for over ninety years, I know everything about you Will Zimmerman, I could sense the change in you tonight, the fact that you were willing to push things between us just made it obvious to me."
She was smiling at him, and Will still felt like he was missing something, but then, Helen was over 230 years old, and he still felt like was getting to know her sometimes.
"I love you."
She settled back down, head on his chest.
"I love you too Will," she murmured.
106 years old, seventy years with Helen Magnus, and he finally knew.