A/N: it's been a long time but apparently i can never outgrow this ship so here ya go lol

take a walk on the wild side
number five
gold/crystal: take, take, take

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The last time he had the pleasure to dip her onto a surface, it was summer, they were sad and anxious, and his hands were damp at the creases. July feels like exactly the same bar the emotional stress, though New Bark has always been chilly and dry. The breeze strolls in uninvited through his half-open window and Gold has half a mind to push it closed, but the other half is busy with a handful of girl.

Crystal's mouth is still shiny and dark. It glints as she opens it to take a breath, and Gold might've come from the sight if he hadn't just a few minutes ago. His dick still twitches in interest; some things don't change, it seems, and Crystal's embarrassed face still pulls out fantasies out of him at an unexpectedly fast pace.

"I can't—" Crystal starts, and then covers her face with her hands, "I can't believe I'm letting you do this."

"Hey, hey. If it bothers you, I'm not completely against wearing the handcuffs myself."

Because really, why would he? Sitting at her mercy might not be what he likes best, but he'd be stupid to waste the chance.

Crys opens her fingers to glare at him. Light and cool crystal, shining brighter than the lamp on his night table. His stomach goes tight and coiling with want because he knows what that shade hides – what it could show if he just puts his mind to it.

Which he has. Exhaustingly so. Can't blame him, either; a year between getting laid will do that to a charming boy such as he, you know? Every flutter of her skirt was a memory of it crumpled on the floor of the shack's living room; every tired sigh an echo of her small gasps as he curled and uncurled his fingers inside her; every glare of those clear eyes a reflection of her upturned eyebrows as she came.

He focuses, tries again:

"I'm serious," Gold presses, leaning over to set his weight on his elbows.

Crystal mumbles something into her hands, but he knows every way she can modulate her voice, and there's more submission there than there is annoyance. His insides go warm at the sound, tightening like a vine around his stomach and lowering, lowering.

"Should'a known you'd like that," he murmurs against her wrist, because he can't help but to tease, and then bites the dry skin of her closest knuckle. "All figures of authority tend to—"

"Shut up," she grits out, but lets him peel small, calloused hands away from her blushing face.

Ah, he likes that. It's been too long since he's had the pleasure to make her blush in a way that he's identified as his alone. Pinching the side of her hip, letting his eyes linger, throwing away dirty sentences – the blushes that spark after those things? Those, he doesn't mind sharing. Silver only rolls his eyes at them, anyway, the unappreciative bastard. But this one … this one he'll take to the grave, if he can.

Gold slides his knee in between her legs at the same time he brings her arms up. Her top – a marvel of dark blue and white – strains at the ribs, the seams threatening to pop open. As much as he would like that, he doesn't want to risk angering her and ending this liaison too soon.

But there are things his curiosity always wants to make known.

"Has your chest gotten bigger, Super-Serious Girl?"

Crystal's eyes go so wide he's half-scared she's going to develop laser beams and fry him into a crispy little pile of ash. But her blush deepens, inking across her jaw and neck, and dipping into her modest neckline.

Man oh man, his dick is just absolutely throbbing, and he hasn't even gotten to undressing her. How could he have forgotten how pleasurable it is, having her? Fantasies and memories have no way of measuring to the real Crystal, not matter how nice they feel when it's late at night.

"Ah," he says, unsure of how his voice remains clear, "so they have grown—"

She slithers one hand out of his and smacks him in the face with it, squirming under him until she's lying on her side. Her ears are red and he licks one of her fingers into his mouth because she won't let him do that to the shell of her ear. It's still nice.

"Brownie points for that," he mumbles through her hand, "but I still like your ass better."

"What?" Crystal asks, clearly distracted by the way his mouth is closing around her pointer finger. She glances at him from the corner of her eyes.

Gold lets go of her hand and pushes it down on the mattress again, thanking whatever deities there are that his mother forced him to clean his room.

"I said: can I take off your clothes?"

Her first reaction is widening her eyes. Her second is immediately narrowing them in accusation.

"That's – that wasn't what you said," Crys whispers, her tone of voice drowning in her embarrassment.

He grins down at her, and then winks. She knows him so well! He can't help but to kiss her, one hand letting go of her hand to snake around her waist. She thankfully lets him, rightfully deciding that dwelling on what he might or might not have said is a waste of time.

Crystal squirms under his weight first, under his hands later. He kisses her with gusto because it's been months since he's been able to do so, and because it's easier to pull her skirt up her thighs if she's distracted. Gold bites her lip and her legs twitch around his knee. He slides his tongue against hers and Crystal buries her hands in his hair, pulling him closer.

How wondrous, he thinks. In Cape Brink it was him doing all the work – and oh, man, how he liked that – but now Crystal touches him without request. Her fingers scratch at his neck when he experimentally tugs at her underwear, a far cry from the whole-body freezing she so clearly liked, and when he parts he finds her expression to be a mix of confusion and half-lidded eyes—

"Holy shit," he says, without meaning to, and presses his knee into the soft cotton of her panties. Crystal's spine curls, her legs tightening around his, and Gold slides his pants down his hips because his jeans' pressure is starting to get too much to handle.

It's telling that she doesn't tell him to watch his language. It's even more so that she pulls him down for another kiss. Gold grins against her mouth, he can't help it.

"Y'know, Crys, if you'd missed me that much you should've just booty called me."

That is too much. She goes red again and averts her gaze to a place over his shoulder, but Gold doesn't really care.

"Arms up, then," he says, and the next second her top falls to the floor like her skirt used to do, before.

Gold doesn't stick around to watch the crinkles in the fabric. He leans over her without glancing at her underwear – that would be his perdition – and fishes the handcuffs and a condom out of his night table's first drawer. Crystal balks at that, eyes wide, but Gold's just glad she doesn't spot the hand lotion and the tissues.

"So, um," she says, and swallows as she sits up on his bed. She's likely going to ask how they go from here, but Gold's treacherous eyes drop down to find small patches of dark fabric, and, well.

"Matching underwear," Gold drawls, amazed, and nearly drops the fuzzy black handcuffs. "You – you were hoping for this—"

He knows from experience: her underwear hardly ever matches. Crystal is all sports' bras and comfortable panties, never lingerie (but once string-tied, and god damn if that wasn't the most beautiful thing he's ever seen).

"I meant to be presentable," she snipes, all the decorum back into her voice even though even her shoulders are flushed.

"Right, right," he agrees, smirking. "Presentable for me," he adds, and doesn't let her argue.

Instead he kisses her again, searching for the button of her skirt. It's where all the others usually are, thankfully, and he stashes the handcuffs in his back pocket while he gets to work. The skirt makes a mute, breathy noise as it falls next to her shirt, and Gold has to swallow down all the desire threatening to burst out of his chest.

Dark-blue and laced at the sides, holy shit, what has he done to deserve this apart from being the birthday boy—

"Could you please stoptalking about my underwear," Crystal groans, hands on her face and elbows covering the line her breasts shape.

Gold opts to forgo a reply; he hadn't realized he was talking out loud, and he doesn't want her to notice. But he pulls her hands up until they touch the metal bars of his bedrail, and he watches her face shift from embarrassment to utmost mortification, and the blood rushes down from everywhere to his already overworked dick.

If he's not careful, he's going to end up coming in his boxers. It's not like it's never happened, but he'd rather not happen tonight, while she's under him and here, as opposed to in his mind.

"You do have the keys, right?" Crystal asks, eyes on the dark fuzz around the metal. "I'd – maybe we – it's—"

"Keys," Gold manages, pointing at the ring of keys sitting on his desk. "I carry 'em with my house keys."

Crystal makes a horrified face at that, probably wondering how someone of her moral fiber even allows Gold to breathe the same air as her. Gold shrugs at her, grinning, and clicks the handcuffs closed around his bedrail. The sound is a short snap, and the effect is instantaneous – Crys' face goes dark red and her eyes go very wide as the rest of her body goes taut. Her knee presses into his and Gold has to take a deep breath in order not to flat-out rip her underwear off and just get on with it already.

"Kinda cool, right?" he asks instead, trying to calm down. "I can do whatever I want to you."

He can tell her stomach tightens and her breasts shudder with a breath. Yeah, he thinks, biting his lip, yeah.

"It's not like you couldn't, before," she eventually whispers, without looking at him, and something inside him snaps. It's probably his self-control.

Gold leans over to kiss her, hands firm and open around her hips. For all he likes her butt, Crystal doesn't seem to mind him touching it all the time. Well – no, she minds. Just not when they're undressed and Gold anchors his palms to the swell of a cheek and brings her up, closer.

Crystal takes a sharp breath – surprise? Want? He looks over at her but he can't tell. He slides his tongue across the soft ridge of her breasts, just because he can, and then bites softly upon the pliable flesh the lace bra leaves uncovered. Crys bares her throat, a sound stuck in her throat, and Gold decides to do it again, lower, his fingers hooking under the wire and pulling up.

Inside his boxers, his dick is weeping. He himself narrowly avoids doing so, standing over Crystal's tits. He missed them. He missed them so, so much, even though he's still an ass man—

"Gold," Crystal hisses, scandalized, and knees him on his side.

"Can't fault a man for being honest," he replies, and bites her again despite the ache in his ribs. Her knees clamp around his own, and her hands close into fists.

"Mm," is what comes out of her closed mouth.

Mm, he hears, and knows he can do better. His left hand pinches at her other breast, pulling until Crys' hips are twitching from one side to the other, her hands trying to find something to hold onto. They curve around the metal bars of his headboard, knuckles white as she tightens and doesn't let go.

"Come on, Crys," Gold pleads, thumb and index fingers twisting her nipple, and she quivers all over, but she doesn't give him the reward he is so clearly craving.

So he withdraws; gives them both some time. He gathers his bearings while she loses hers – with each second that she's not being touched. It hurts him too, of course, a sweet sort of ache that could be so easily soothed. The absence of her flesh in his hand bites at him like hunger does.

"Gold," Crystal finally says, eyes muddled and voice deep.

He grins at her, and – pulls himself off the bed and onto his feet. Kicks off his jeans, awarding her with skin-tight boxers that frankly make his ass look like a million bucks, and then stretches. Her eyes latch onto the stripe of skin between shirt and underwear, and don't let go until he slouches again.

"You know what?" he asks, eyebrows rising. "I'm going to get a glass of water."

Crystal's face shifts from soft to hard in a single half-second. Her eyes, still dark despite her irritation, glare into his. Gold tries to suppress his grin – really, he does – but just ends up kicking off his jeans and joining her on his bed again.

He'd never leave her like this, if he can be honest. Not because he can't, but because it's the first time he has her sprawled out and naked in his own bed, and that's just too good to waste. Maybe later, huh.

"If you're trying to get me to repeat this," she says breathily (and doesn't that do wonders for her tits), "you're doing a terrible job."

Gold laughs, and throws his shirt somewhere over his shoulder. Nothing breaks, so he kisses her again, hands gripping at the soft fabric of his covers. Crystal reciprocates hotly, even sighing when their mouths meet. And that's fine, but then she audibly gasps when he slides his fingers into her underwear again, thighs twitching and arm coming up to cover her face.

Gold grinds against her leg, and Crystal finally keens, biting down on her lip and closing her eyes. She presses around his fingers, hot and tight and it makes his eyes roll back in their sockets because it's been so long and he wants nothing more than to fuck her into next week. He wants nothing more than to see her collapse into herself with a tired look on her face. He wants nothing more than to see her writhing under him, legs around—

"Whoa, okay, kinda lost myself here," he confesses, curling his fingers again. Crystal makes a breathy noise that stutters warmly into his cheek. He grins, momentarily regaining a semblance of self-control, and closes his mouth around her closest breast.

It's the first time she calls out his name like this. Gold looks up from the blue lace and stares at her quivering bottom lip, and that's it. That's it.

Hands delving into his boxers, he brings out his dick. Just that movement makes his nerves spark off like fireworks have been lit inside of his stomach. Gold has overestimated himself, he realizes. It's been far too long since he's had this sort of contact with her – he's thought himself to be far more impervious to her charms than he actually is.

Thankfully Crystal seems to be in the same boat. She hooks one leg around Gold's waist – and just that makes his hips roll in her direction – and huffs around a mouthful of hair. She'll never say get on with it, but she'll sure show it. That's fine with him; he hooks his thumbs on the sides of her sodden panties and sets them on his night table before he looks over her body: flushed pink, trembling, and welcome.

"I really, really missed this," Gold tells her. I missed you, he doesn't tell her, but she's smart. She'll get it.

Crystal's lips part – he presses his mouth there before she can ruin the moment with her usual prudishness. She melts into it, thankfully, though he hears the clink of the handcuffs as they slide around the bar of his bedrail. He doesn't tease, though, because they're both getting antsy.

No, he bites off the condom package, puts it on under her watchful and searing gaze, and slides home instead. Slow because it's been a while but sure because his hand is dripping and he knows her body intimately. And then immediately thinks of Emerald's most disapproving frown to avoid coming.

She's tight, and hot, and wet, and Gold's thighs are already trembling as he does his best to keep from embarrassing himself. Beneath him, Crystal is twitching, face hidden behind the crook of her elbows. Gold can't find it in himself to pull them to the sides to watch her – not while he's breathing hard and biting back moans. Not while he's fighting himself not to just thrust into her and just—

Crystal whines, then, a high-pitched thing drawn through her teeth. And Gold comes, open-mouthed and surprised because she's coming too, what the fuck— like she's trying to wring him out through his dick— like it's his first time all over again and he can't, he can't—

"'M sorry," Crystal sobs, breasts heaving and legs tight around his back, "I c-couldn't help it—"

Gold thrusts into her one final time, feeling impossibly relieved and relaxed, and rests his weight into his elbows, laying his head on the pillow she's using. Crys is hot to the touch, and her bra digs a little into his ribs, but there is no way he's going to move in the next four minutes. Even if she's still twitching and squeezing around him every time he does so much as breathing.

Ugh, fuck, he thinks, maybe just two minutes. There's no way he isn't getting hard if she keeps doing that thing with her pelvis.

"Gold?" Crys asks, very shyly, into his ear.

He moans something at her, pressing his mouth to her pulse point. Her heart is beating just as fast as his is.

"Fuck," he says, pulling his lips away, "that was so lame."

Crystal goes pink all over, looking away quickly.

"Oh?" Gold asks, because he knows what that shade means. "Unless someone liked—oh, f-fuhh—"

She glares at him – which is incredibly impressive considering she's just tightened hard around his suddenly interested and not-tired dick. Gold tries to bounce back from just having moaned right in her face, but it's kind of hard considering Crystal's gone even pinker after that.

"You're a sadist," he says, pulling away from her. He winces a bit, still too sensitive, and looks over at her. Crys closes her legs, frowning at him, but he can still spot a spot of pink, wet flesh, and if that doesn't get him back in the game then he doesn't know what would.

"You're an idiot," Crystal says, but moans when he presses a kiss into her stomach. He steps out of his bed and chucks the rubber onto his garbage can, hoping he'll remember to throw out the trash in the morning.

"Had to be, to fall in love with you," Gold says, and reaches for another condom.

And of all the things he's said since he's had her naked and willing on his bed, that's the one who makes Crystal smile up at him. Inside his chest, his heart goes a little softer, a little warmer.

"Guess I'm an idiot, too," she replies, in a whisper.

Gold looks away, embarrassed beyond belief. But when leans over her again he is grinning hard enough that his cheeks hurt.