The silverware seems to clink almost oppressively around them. It's their date night, but Jon is hardly focused enough to notice the way his food tastes- the way it's missing a little bit of salt, as things usually do for him- let alone notice that he's daydreaming.

It's Lea's birthday. He needs to call her later, as he'd promised the previous night precisely at midnight PST. He'd set his alarm for five minutes to three a.m. and everything, just as planned. When he'd promised that he'd call later in the evening, after he'd actually gotten some sleep, he'd completely forgotten about date night, an errant hand suddenly coming up to fight his tie here, now, in the oppressive reality in which he's finding himself once more, Karl waving an impatient hand in his face.

"Earth to Jon, where'd you go? Your champagne risotto is getting cold, romeo."

"Sorry," he mutters as he runs a hand through his unruly curls, not sure whether he's more sorry to the risotto or to Karl, who apparently wasn't important enough to listen to anymore. It really makes him feel bad, straightening in his seat and doing his best to offer rapt, undivided attention.

"Anyway, as I was telling you," Karl says, nudging his head over to the other table with a grin, indicating where he ought to let his gaze fall.

It's a surprise, certainly. For a second he thinks Karl might be talking about the elderly woman dressed in the couch-like floral pattern, and then quickly decides against it when a screaming baby comes into focus, spitting up something that distinctly looks like it was just chewed up and semi-digested by a particularly vicious bird of prey.

"Uh, the... baby?"

"It's adorable," and he laughs, his nose crinkling in just the way Jon usually finds adorable on him. But, really, babies?

"Kind of a lot harder for us than the rest of the population," he chuckles, a clear indicator that, were it up to Jon, this conversation would be over right now. "Besides, it's not like we're anywhere close to that kind of... decision-making point in our relationship. We've only been dating for-"

"- a year and two months," Karl finished with a grin, reaching over the table to take his hand. "Living together for four now. Besides, you keep talking about that friend Lea, and how close you two are, right? I'm sure she'd be happy to play surrogate. Come on, it'd be fun."

"Karl," he starts very slowly, brow furrowed as though he's staring at an incredibly hard math problem, "fun is really not the adjective you should be thinking of here. High maintenance, maybe. A big investment in one's future, yes, that, too. Huge decision we can't possibly be making right now, definitely."

By nine p.m. that evening, he can't stop thinking about it.

It's made him delay calling Lea, actually, this whole baby business. The thought of her carrying his baby is actually surprisingly endearing, and therefore something he doesn't want to spend too much time thinking about. It's still a huge decision, of course, but... still.

It has him terrified that she might say no all of a sudden, and he finally makes a grab for the phone without a second thought to the matter.

Just as always, she picks up on the third ring. It's nice, calming, knowing that the routine of Lea's existence in his life will always be there for him to fall back on, no matter what happens.

"Hey!"

"Hey, birthday girl," he grins into his phone, and he's certain she can hear it. "Promised you I'd call, didn't I?"

"Yes, sir. You did, indeed."

"How was your day?"

Their phone conversations- much to Karl's chagrin at times, particularly when he was feeling horny and wanted Jon all to himself- usually lasted a good hour or so, depending on how long it had been since they'd last spoken. Ever since he'd started doing another musical on Broadway, and she'd gotten stuck doing the Glee spin-off, things had slowed down a bit, but occasionally they managed fifteen minutes every day or so. Whenever it turned into two, three days between calls, that's when they usually started turning into hour-long conversations.

At least he'd gotten better at hiding his phone calls, stepping outside for a "walk" before calling her, or waiting until Karl was out for class at the culinary institute.

She'd had an alright birthday as it turned out, spending most of it in downtown LA hanging out with friends, but missing him terribly. She detailed the new clothes she'd gotten on her shopping spree, and told one particular story that had stood out to her about the cutest puppy she'd run into during her morning run in the park.

"Though I missed my daddy, of course."

It rolls off her tongue so easily. They used to celebrate their birthdays together back when she lived in New York, messing around the city, going to their favorite restaurants and going to see whatever show happened to be playing at the time.

"What's been going on with you?"

He almost doesn't want to answer, his words seemingly stuck in his throat as he got up to walk into the kitchen, pinning the phone between ear and shoulder as he poured himself a glass of orange juice.

"Karl's gone baby crazy."

It doesn't sound one bit like it catches her off guard, and she laughs, offering a blithe oh?in response.

"Said we should get one. That it would be fun. He said you could be the surrogate, since I'm sure you'd be so willing to have my babies." It was meant to come out sounding like a joke. It was meant sincerely, Jon biting his lip as he replaced the orange juice in the fridge once more as he grabbed hold of his cell phone and took a long sip from his glass.

"My parents would be thrilled," she laughed, sounding far too genuine. Not that she was, in any way, wrong, of course. Maybe he could finally get that house her dad had promised him, too. "I don't know. It would be fun. We'd be great parents."

"Well, Karl thinks we'd be great parents," he laughs, though it doesn't even make its way over the phone line, finishing hollow. "You'd just have to be a walking blimp for nine months so he could have his little bundle of joy. Not what I call fair."

"But think about it," she continues, grinning all the way from Los Angeles to New York, "that would be one fantastic set of genes coming together, you and me."

"You're right," he sighs softly, a defiant smile forcing itself onto his face without his permission before he can stop it. Clearing his throat, he turns around, leaning against the counter on his elbows as he runs errant fingers through his hair.

"Adorable, talented... what wouldn't there be to love?"

It feels like he's in a train station, surrounded by people, most of them ahead of him. Both Karl and Lea have boarded the train, and he's been left behind to fend for himself, not sure what happened and when, precisely, he lost track of things.

"You're not serious," he laughs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he feels a headache coming on. Are they really considering this? Why haven't they mentioned this to him any sooner, that they were planning this behind his back?

He's not sure if it isn't more terrifying to consider that this likely wasn't planned by them. The world has just turned its back on Jon. Even on their way home from the too-expensive restaurant there had been babies everywhere.

"Maybe I am," she grins into the phone, and he knows she's serious. He knows all of Lea's verbal and physical tics as if by heart now- she's easy to read. They've taken to picking up each other's, too, like that horrible habit she has playing with her hair. He always knows instantly when he starts playing with his hair like she does, that it's getting too long again.

"I'll think about it," he says, tinge of a smile evident in the undercurrent of his voice. He feels every bit as though he's lost this battle already.

"I mean, we're both consenting adults, right? What's the big deal?"

A week later, and she's still talking about it. For once, Karl isn't even upset about his excess phone time with Lea, amused smile playing on his lips as he watches the conversation unfold from his vantage point at the bar while Jon does his best to make stir-fry with one hand, occasionally pinning the phone between ear and shoulder.

"Besides," she continues, "I'm in my prime. If we wait much longer, I might not be able to have your babies, and that would be a real tragedy."

"Lea, you justturned twenty-eight. I don't think there's any real sense of urgency we need to be worried about just yet."

"Now's as good a time as any," he hears his boyfriend cutting in with a laugh and he can't help but throws him a look.

"Behave," he mouths to him as Karl rounds the counter to pull him into a kiss on the cheek before letting him go again to disappear into the bathroom.

"I'm just saying," Lea repeats, "it's like you planted this... bug in my ear, and now you're expecting it to just go away on its own."

She's right, of course. He hasn't been able to sleep right for all of his thinking about it too much and half-heartedly hoping that they might just drop it. It's a fruitless endeavor, stupid.

"So what, you'd like me to fly out to LA with a turkey baster of our combined sperm in it?"

"Our child is not going to be Rachel Berry," she jokes, and even he finds himself smiling at the thought. "Besides, I'd be having your child, not Karl's. That's not even an option."

It's a miracle they're still talking about woulds and shoulds and mights at this point. From listening to Lea, one would get the idea that this is already decided and arranged.

Karl returns to the room to wrap his arms around his lover from behind, silly grin on his face.

"You're softening up to the idea, I can tell." The way he licks his lips before they twist into a mischievous smirk is enough to send Jon back into the reality of why they're doing this. Karl and him- not Lea and him- apparently want a baby to raise. The fact that Lea is going to be the mother is purely by chance, and has no real bearing on anything.

It makes him feel physically ill for a moment, shaking his head to rid himself of the offensive thoughts as he steps out of Karl's arms with a soft pat on his ass before returning to the stir-fry.

"Besides, it would have to be you, you know. That ought to make both of you happy. My uncle is a carrier for tay-sachs, and I'm pretty sure that I'd be too great of a risk. And I mean, you two can always go to a clinic and have it done there. You don't need to bring a turkey baster, I don't think," he winks, leaning his hips back against the counter, palms splayed out against the cool marble. He looks almost edible, and Jon throws him a smirk over his shoulder, thoughts anywhere but on babies right now."

"Or," Lea cuts in, seemingly grinning on her end, as well, "or we could use the traditional method."

That stops him mid-thought, eyes going wide as he throws a guilty glance at Karl before promptly returning his attention to the wok in front of him.

"You're not saying-"

"He doesn't have to know," she whispers, and he feels himself turning red, the color slowly, steadily traveling up his neck and over his face as he licks his lips, mouth suddenly gone dry. "How long has it been since you've had really good sex?"

She's lying back against her bed from the sound of it, probably playing with her hair the way she does every time she's blatantly flirting with him. If Karl wasn't around- and really, this evening is all about special circumstances, as he normally isn't- this would turn into phone sex right about now.

Sex with Lea isn't anything new. It started the night they left Spring Awakening together, both of them drunk on emotions and tears and the fears of losing one another now that they wouldn't be seeing each other as frequently.

In retrospect, it had been a silly thing to panic about. On the other hand, neither of them minded the change in their relationship much. It was nice to stop pretending.

They were also incredibly compatible in bed.

"Uh, all the time? Lea, there's nothing wrong with-"

"But he's not me," she cuts in, and his throat constricts with the unspoken words he can't bring himself to say with Karl in the room. No, he's not Lea. Karl is never going to be Lea, and maybe part of that is the problem. No one is ever going to be Lea.

"No, he's not," he reaffirms with a soft sigh, Karl's hands slipping expertly into his back pockets as he leans his chin on top of his shoulder, nuzzling at the crook of his neck.

"Almost done?"

"Hey, can I call you back later? I think Karl and I are going to finish dinner, and discuss this a bit more, and then we'll see."

"Sure thing, daddy," she grins into the phone before hanging up, knowing exactly what Jon is saying even without him having to say it. They'll talk later. Maybe they'll do more than talk.

"I'm right, aren't I? You're liking this idea more and more."

"What I like is the idea of us putting dinner aside to reheat later so I might fuck you into the mattress."

"I think I can get behind that idea, yeah," Karl grins against his skin, sucking harder at the crook of his shoulder, enough to make him moan out loud.

"I think you mean in front of," he mutters hotly, reaching to strip off his t-shirt in one go before pinning Karl against the fridge.

When neither of them is wearing anything two minutes later, little else but groans and gasps filling the apartment, Jon isn't even sure that he's not simply trying to compensate for whatever is going on between him and Lea right now.

On the other hand, he's not sure that he cares.

"Yeah, we just landed. We're still coasting, and technically we're not supposed to use our cell phones, but come on, we're on the ground, right? Are you already here? - yeah, I'll- I'll see you soon, then." He can't help the way his face splits into the widest grin. He'd been so certain that she'd get stuck in traffic, and that he'd end up waiting for a good hour or inevitably taking a cab to get to her condo, but she's actually here, and he keeps beaming at the strangers around him. Can't help but.

Jon really, truly, is a nice person most of the time, and typically he'll stay seated for as long as possible while everyone else pushes and shoves their way to the front of the airplane and out of there. Today, however, he's part of the herd, carry-on luggage in hand (the only luggage he's brought, thanking his lucky stars that he's not part of the gay culture that feels the need to carry around a murse) as he fights his way to the front and down the breeze way to where she would be waiting.

He's always loved airports. The air is always filled with excitement and trepidation and a lingering sense of thrill. His favorite part of them, however, is seeing the reunions- especially during the holidays- people's faces going through a myriad of emotions left and right as they say goodbye or helloonce more. Even in movies, they're always his favorite parts.

It's September, and the holidays seem as far away as ever, but that doesn't change the mood for either of them when Jon drops his bags, runs to Lea, picks her up, and spins her until she's surely dizzy.

Her hair smells like peaches, like it always has, and he almost doesn't want to let her go, she fits so perfectly into his arms, where she belongs, soft and small.

"I missed you so much," he whispers into her hair, and he can feel himself tearing up despite his best efforts not to. She smells too good, fits against him too well.

"I missed you, too," she whispers back, and he can hear that, unlike him, she's let go of any semblance of self-control, her voice cracking. They're attracting stares, but he really couldn't care about the rest of LAX right now; it's as if the whole rest of the world has dissolved with nothing but them left in it.

When he reluctantly pulls away, thumbs reaching up to wipe her tears from her cheeks as his hands gingerly cup her face, he can't help but laugh softly at his own tearing up, Lea's shirtsleeve immediately there to help him out, too.

"Come on, daddy. Let's get out of here."

Grabbing his previously discarded and forgotten bags with one hand, the other immediately seeks hers out to hold with a bright grin. It feels so natural, if he closed his eyes and pretended, he could see them back on Broadway at midnight, Lea having had the brilliant idea to go on an impromptu walk down their favorite street in the middle of the summer night.

"So what did you do, leave your place three hours ago?" he jokes as he loads his bags into the trunk with a smirk before rounding the car to get in.

"Something like that."

She's got that smile on her face that tells him she actually did it, wanted them to have their airport reunion badly enough to get up at the crack of dawn.

When she starts pulling out of the LAX parking lot, the car safely put in drive, her hand finds his again, her thumb absently drawing circles on his knuckles while his other hand gets his phone out to text Karl that he's arrived safely, and that he can stop worrying about him.

"Thanks for letting me stay with you."

"You're kidding, right? Jonathan, don't be ridiculous. You always stay with me." Then there's a beat, and he knows exactly what she's going to say even before she says it. "Unless this is about..."

"I haven't made up my mind yet," he finishes for her with a sigh, staring out the window as he clicks his phone off once more.

"I know you haven't," she smiles over at him, briefly letting go of his hand to reach out and touch his cheek before promptly returning to its previous spot. "Though I can't say I won't try to change your mind."

"I'm pretty sure Steve would mind if I went and impregnated his girlfriend," he offers her pointedly over the top of his sunglasses, making her shrug and throw him another one of those Can't Be Trusted trademark grins of hers.

"What he doesn't know..."

"I meant you walking around pregnant with my kid. Kind of hard to hide that one, baby."

"I'll just tell him we used a turkey baster. Besides, it's not like I'm going to be raising it," she says again, making him wonder why she's so intent on following through with this idea in the first place, "well, much, anyway. Look," she continues, squeezing his hand lightly, "just worry about your audition for now, and we can always revisit the baby situation after you're done with that."

"Well, if I don't make a decision soon, I'm going to mess up my audition since it'll be all I'm thinking about."

"I know." Truth is, she knows him too well for her own good, sometimes. "If you got this part, would you..."

"Move here? I'm not sure. Karl's still taking classes, so I might just move in with you for a while. I doubt he'd mind."

"Even if I just happened to be carrying your seed to term at the time?" she laughs, nudging his arm with her elbow as she finally gets off the highway and back into the far more familiar, intimate part of LA that he enjoys. It reminds him of Lea- not in the way that New York will always remind him of Lea, but it still feels like a second home.

"Hey, all the more reason to spend all the time in the world with you, right?" Even if he can't bring himself to fully get behind this ridiculous idea, he still can't stop the grin from spreading across his face, wide. Her enthusiasm has always been infectious.

"What's wrong with Steve?" he finally asks her as she burrows herself more closely into the crook of his arm, the bowl of kettle corn firmly nestled between her legs. They're not even watching the movie anymore, Jon too preoccupied with the babies on seemingly everyone's brain. LA is almost as littered with them as it's littered with empty beer bottles, and it's hard to get in a single clear thought when he's surrounded by constant texts from Karl and nudges from Lea. "I mean, you two are thinking about moving in together anyway, right?" He still can't shake the feeling that he really doesn't like Steve, but he's not about to tell her that. "Since you're in your prime and all, why not just settle down?"

"That's different," she says after thinking about it for a moment and looking up at him with a bemused expression playing in her eyes, as though she has no idea why he doesn't already know the answer to his own question. "I could never see myself spending the rest of my life with him."

"You realize that this is Karl's idea. That it would be our baby." The thought makes his heart hurt, trying to consider just how much Lea wouldn't be able to stand not seeing something that she and Jon had made, like a real couple.

"Maybe I could move in with the two of you. We'd see each other more, and there would be more hands to help raise the little thing." She grins up at him, big, soft, brown eyes, and he has to physically restrain himself from kissing her, forcing his eyes back to the tv screen. The actor on it looks like Karl, actually, and it's a nice distraction from everything that Lea is. Karl looks nothing like her- absurdly skinny, tall, blonde, glasses.

He's also possessive of Jon, not that he can really blame him. It would never work.

"You know that's one of the reasons I'm hesitant about this, right?"

"Besides," she ignores him, blatantly staring at his lips for a moment before meeting his eyes again, "Stephen is infertile."

That throws him off guard even more than the way she's staring at him, or the way she's twirling her hair again. "What? Why?"

"He got a vasectomy two years ago. Said he just didn't want to take the chance." There's a pause as she studies his features and the judgment evident in his expression, and she promptly shakes her head. "It's not a big deal. I respect his decision. He's not the one I want to have kids with."

Reaching forward to grab the remote, he turns the TV off, leaning forward until his forehead is resting on hers. She's practically already in his lap, her legs swung over his as the rest of her body seemed to conform with the idea of cuddling up to him as much as possible.

"I'll think about it," he whispers, and she smiles as though she's already won him over. Maybe she has.

"Do you want something to drink?" He's almost reluctant to nod lest she pull away, but she's far ahead of him, already up to get them both glasses and a bottle of wine.

"I missed this," she mutters softly as they curl up once more, Jon smiling into her hair.

"Who knows, maybe with that audition..."

He really would like staying with her. There was a time, just before he met Karl, that he took a good month to disappear to California, spending all of his time with Lea while she wasn't working as much as usual. They acted like an actual couple most of the time already, but messing around Los Angeles with her on most days had seemed to further reinforce that notion.

And some days, they hardly even bothered leaving the bed, the slight dip at Lea's hip perfect for his hand to settle into as the other tangled in her hair, holding on as they got lost in a mess of sheets together between kisses, gasps, pants.

Returning to New York after had been hell, and as much as he loved the city, it just wasn't the same with Lea by his side

He'd met Karl about two weeks later at an LGBT fundraising charity event, with his crooked smirk and his ability as a natural in the kitchen. He painted, too, and Jon realized that a fellow artist- any artist- was what he needed in his life right now.

Not that Karl cooked for them often. Most evenings he refused, preferring to watch as Jon cooked for him after having done it all day in class already. Not that he minded, but every time that Lea and him got together, they always did it together. It wasn't anything overtly fancy or avant garde, but it was nice, and made him feel at home.

"I've been thinking about it a lot, you know," she interjects, interrupting his thoughts in the process. "You and me. Us."

He stares at her for a moment, not sure what to make of the expression on her face, his upper arm coming to rest on the back of the couch, as he props his head up with his fist, facing her.

"Last summer was... everything I could have hoped and dreamed for it to be."

"I assume you're not breaking up with Steve to join a bohemian hippie commune with me where we can be together forever." Really, it's Stephen. But calling him Steve feels so much more appropriate. Loads of assholes are named Steve, almost like an ongoing theme throughout recent history and the media. It seems fitting.

"I miss having sex with you." She takes a long sip from her glass, Jon suddenly alerted to the fact that he's already finished his. It's a bad habit, getting lost in thought and conversation and hardly even noticing that suddenly, the whole bottle has been finished off.

"Ah," he chuckles, grinning at her. "I thought we said we'd limit things to phone sex while we were respectively unavailable?" And even that was questionable at times. Jon always feels a little guilty, leaving to go on a walk only to disappear up to the roof of the building just to hear her get off on his voice, moaning for him. It only gets worse when he returns to find Karl already asleep in their bed, arms wrapped about Jon's pillow.

Jon might top, but he's always been the little spoon. It makes his stomach twist into something wretched, knowing that Lea and him are keeping such a massive secret from the whole world. He's never been good with them, secrets.

Not to say that he doesn't want her; he does. More than anything. She's only wearing a skimpy little thing, black and lacy, falling to just above mid-thigh. When she shifts on the couch, everything becomes uncovered, of course, and when she bends hardly at all, he can see for miles.

It's almost like she's planned this.

"I know we did," she finishes her glass, looking somewhat dejectedly torn before pouring both of them more to drink. He knows what she's doing, of course. It might be working. Maybe it's definitely working. "It's just- you're right here, and if we're doing, you know. We'll do that anyway. And I just thought... "

"You realize that lies are a terrible way to fuel a relationship, right?"

"I'm not even sure Stephen would mind. And... Karl kind of knew what he was getting himself into anyway, right?"

He takes a slow, long sip of his wine, smirking down at her as his arm falls around her, wrapping about her waist until his fingers are playing at the skin of her upper thigh, unbelievably soft, moving higher, caressing the smooth curve of her ass. He's half-hard by now, something no other girl can do to him. Just Lea.

"I know what you're doing, Lea," he whispers conspiratorially into her ear as he leans forward to deposit first his glass, and then hers onto the table. "And it's not working." Yes it is.

"What am I doing?" But she's smirking, and it's anything but innocent.

She doesn't even offer him time to answer her before she moves to sit up onto her legs, kissing him, hard.

The reaction on both sides is almost instantaneous. If he wasn't gay, this might have felt like cheating with an ex, returning to the familiarity and comfort of the past. Maybe he is. He's comfortable with Karl, but another part of him is sure, is certain that no one is ever going to feel as rightin his arms as Lea does.

"We really shouldn't do this," he mutters hotly against her lips, but even despite his most valiant efforts, he knows that he's coming apart in the face of her hands, her body, her lips as she moves to straddle him, already tugging his shirt off his body, leaving it to land somewhere on the dark grain of her hardwood floor.

Maybe he's just gay with a side of Lea. It seems an acceptable alternative, a groan leaving him as he tugs the lacy black thing off of her body, impatient fingers slipping into the waistband of her matching panties to demand them gone while she struggles with his belt buckle.

There's a moment of not enough skin contact as he pulls down jeans while she removes the last offending piece of clothing from her body, promptly straddling him again.

The skin-on-skin contact is feverish, desperate, as if it's somehow even better since they're technically, technically not supposed to- especially compared to the sweet, loving sex from the previous summer.

This is different, and it makes him realize just how much he's really been missing her.

"Say it," she moans, her hand moving down to work furiously at his length as she watches his face for the reactions she wants, knows she can get. "Say my name. Tell me you want me."

"Fuck, Lea- of course I want you," he bites back a groan, licking his lips as his head falls back.

Then a thought hits him, something from earlier about Steve having had a vasectomy and he pulls back from her in a panic, breathing shallow. "You're- you're still on birth control, right?" He knows how much she hates condoms, and it would only make sense that she'd have no trouble barebacking if the asshole was actually clean.

"I- no," she breathes, looking to him as if she's just caught hold of the perfect opportunity without really trying.

"Lea, no-"

"I have condoms, hold on," she mutters, climbing off of him and disappearing for a brief second into her bedroom. He has half the mind to tell her not to bother, his slightly buzzed, lust-addled brain feeling just barely brave enough for a moment, but then she's back the next second, little package in her hand, and a bright smile on her face.

"Happy?"

"Very," he grins even though now, he's not so sure anymore.

For the moment, however, it doesn't matter, Lea getting down on her knees in front of him to put his condom on, her mouth sliding after to suck him off through it, earning her a healthy groan as his hips buck up. "L-Lea-"

"Come to mama," she purrs, climbing back into his lap with enough pruriency to make him seriously question whether Steve is any good in bed at all.

When she slides home on top of him, he can hardly hold back his groan against her lips.

"We're not doing this here," he mutters hotly as he picks her up, holding her up by her perfect little ass to carry her into the bedroom. "I want to be able to fuck you properly, baby."

"Daddy-"

They don't make it to the bedroom, stopping somewhere between the couch and her bed where he's got her pressed up against the wall, thrusting into her over and over hard enough to deceive the pictures of them she has up on the wall into thinking there's a mild earthquake.

"Tell me, daddy- tell me I'm the only one that can ever do this to you."

This is where he runs into trouble. Last summer, neither of them dating anyone else, this was an easy thing to do, reaffirming her worth in the face of her doubts. Still- Karl is never going to be Lea, and it's like he can hear his own words echoing in his head.

"No one," he breathes, imagining for a moment what it would be like to come in her, knowing that she could end up pregnant, marking her permanently as his.

It's enough to send him over the edge as he comes, Lea's walls clenching around his length with her own vaginal orgasm.

"Fuck, baby," he pants, just holding her there for the moment, one shaky hand coming up to gingerly tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear as he kisses her again.

"You're fantastic," she laughs softly, letting her head fall back against the wall with a thud. "Best fuck I've ever had, you are."

"You flatter me too much," he smirks, lifting her up and off the wall to carry her to the bed, gently setting her down before pulling out of her and briefly disappearing into the bathroom to tug off the condom, tying it shut and dropping it into the wastebasket.

"Is Steve going to get suspicious if he sees the condom in your trash?" he laughs, leaning into the door frame of the bathroom.

"I doubt he'll notice. He didn't even notice when I brought my hair products over a week or so ago." There's a pause as she rolls onto her side, one hand propping up her head, the other absently playing at the stitching of the comforter, her gaze never leaving his. "Promise me you'll think about it?"

"Yeah," he nods slowly, moving to sit up onto the bed beside her, one hand reaching out to stroke her cheek. "I promise."