Yes, this is a MATURE FIC. Nothing crazy explicit, but there is sex. If implications of it and other such words are not exactly for you, then I suggest you make your exit now!

Nothing is mine, waaah, but I wish I could be Theresa. Purely to get Jay.

The rest of them don't know the game we have going. They are effectively oblivious. We don't tell anyone, we don't let ourselves get carried away in front of them. We don't let any possible signs slip.

We're safe, meticulously planning our escapades.

I don't remember when it went from once a week to two or three times a week to every other night. It's been at least two and a half months since we started.

Pure moments of weakness on both our parts. It was late, but we weren't tired. We talked, moving closer on the couch to keep our voices hushed. He had leaned forward, brushing some hair behind my ear.

And the spark that we had both felt before ignited in between us. Neither of us were inexperienced, nor were we nervous. It came naturally. But the next morning, awkwardness rushed in and I had escaped from Jay's room before he had even opened his eyes.

But now here I lay, entirely awake and staring hard at my digital clock that seems to be mocking me, stuck on the same time. I can hear Neil's snoring from down the hall, but other than that the house is quiet.

Yet I know I'm not the only one awake.

Finally, after what seemed like days and years and centuries of waiting, my digital alarm blinks 12:00 am in a frightened LED.

My footsteps are quiet as I cross my bedroom floor and my door swings open effortlessly without a squeak. So far I haven't been caught by anybody and God willing, I don't plan on it happening

I count to myself as I walk down the hallway on my tiptoes. One, two, three...

Jay's door stares me in the face, three doors from mine on the opposite side of the hallway. Twenty one paces exactly. I've stood in front of this door so many times now, that I have memorized the dark spots in the wood and how one particular part of the door resembles a rose.

I take a deep breath like always and grasp the doorknob, twisting it in silence and pushing the wood open. My body slips in and I just manage to wretch my hand in before I close the door behind me.

His room is dark and his bed is empty, but I know I haven't been stood up. Jay is standing by his window, staring out the thin curtains at the street below. He knows I've entered the room, but he hasn't turned yet.

I relax back against the door, simply watching him. Every nerve in my body is twitching and I involuntarily bite my lip, waiting and watching and holding my breath.

Jay turns and even in the dimness of the room I can see his eyes, bright and burning. For me.

We're standing only millimeters apart before either one of us realizes and our pattern, our ritual begins.

His hands come up to the straps of my nightgown, gently toying with the silk before letting them slide down my shoulders, further and further. All the while, my eyes are roaming his naked torso. They travel along the defined lines and the dips, and I mentally burn a line of fire south to the waistband of his black boxers.

I feel my nightgown glide along my skin, down my sides and my thighs until I feel and hear it flutter to the ground around my feet. The air is cold on my chest and stomach, bringing goose bumps to my flesh which causes a slight smile from Jay.

Like mine had done, he lets his eyes roam my upper body. I can see the want and need that fill his eyes as they commit to memory the curves of my body, not that the imprints aren't already there.

We move together towards Jay's bed where the sheets are already pulled back from the pillows. I turn, his hands gripping my hips tightly as I lower myself backwards. He crawls on top of me and his lips descend down, marking a path from my jaw line all the way down to my bellybutton. He sucks on my neck, my collarbone, kisses across my upper chest and breasts, follows the rises of them until he's kissing my ribcage, then the expanse of skin across my stomach. I quiver and release breathy sighs.

Its torture, plain and simple unadulterated torture, except what we're doing is so very adult and so very incredibly complex.

I run my hands down his back, the muscles pulling beneath my warm palms as he lifts himself up to look me in the eyes, one hand sliding down my side to my thigh. He massages, but I know he won't stay there. Sure enough, Jay brushes his knuckles very gently against me, almost a ghostly touch. We still each have a layer to discard, but his fingers twitch around the lace that I wear especially for these heated nights.

I gasp out his name as he lets the fingers that are usually wrapped tightly around a sword's hilt cause sweet distress on my body. My hips tilt on their own accord and I'm in a completely different time zone until he pulls away from me, halting the growing waves of pleasure that had been building from the depths of my feet. A playful glare is given but Jay just leans down, capturing my lips and smirking against them.

Our tongues are dueling, our hands are everywhere and our breath is heavy against one another, but I ask myself when this is going to start to get boring, so custom that we're uninterested in each other.

My panties are gone, it's like I barely even feel him take them off nowadays. When is it going to not get so exciting anymore?

I shuck his boxers and Jay's fingers dance an intricate blueprint of circles down my side until he grips underneath my thigh, lifting my leg. I know what this means; I wind it around his waist. When is the thrill of sneaking down the hallway going to wear off?

The pull away, the silent permission in his eyes even though we've lost count how many times we've done this. Are we forever going to catch each other's eyes at random moments, bringing ourselves back to the excitement and arousal of the previous night that nobody else knows about?

Our eyes are locked the entire time, until he's deep within me. I try hard to maintain eye-contact, but its so good that I wretch my gaze away and let my head press back against the pillow as he shifts, beginning to move. We find a rhythm together, like always. I crush my eyes shut as I hear his whispers and moans, and then I hear my own. How much longer is this going to go on?

I wish I knew.

--

"Theresa?"

I know I should be listening to Odie tell me about how I broke my PMR, but my mind is somewhere else.

I know I should be absorbing what he's saying and nodding along and apologizing about how I accidentally dropped it and watched it fall down the flight of stairs... but I can't focus on anything.

Two weeks. It's been two weeks since our last deed. God, is that really what it is?

I don't know what happened. It's like whatever was between us suddenly disappeared and relocated in between some other couple that have been awkwardly dancing away from each other - away from each other's feelings - for the past couple of months.

I left that night and everything was normal the next day and like always, we took that night off. Allowed ourselves to sleep soundly, despite the many dreams of Jay I've recently been having.

But when the following night rolled around and the clock struck midnight, I continued to lay in my bed. I found myself questioning the basis of this.

Are we simply there for each other physically? Does he have any sort of feeling towards me other than the obvious lust and desire?

I wish I wasn't comparing myself to some sort of relationship mistress, but I guess I sort of am. We're sneaking around, keeping this thing a bloody secret as though Jay has as girlfriend who is blissfully unaware of his cheating.

Are we doing this because maybe its overdue, maybe its needed, maybe because we're just there and it seems like a good idea?

"Theresa, if you're not going to listen to me then you can fix your own damn PMR."

Odie snaps me back to reality like some sort of rubber band. I spin in his desk chair and sigh, giving Odie the very best apologetic smile that I can muster up. He's cross-legged on his bed, clearly maddened by my seemingly apathetic state.

"I'm sorry," I begin bashfully. "I've just got stuff on my mind."

"Clearly." He rolls his eyes, fiddling with my PMR a little bit more before placing the back panel back on the device. Odie thrusts out his hand and I graciously take it back, inspecting it to see that it works perfectly now.

"Wonderful, no more static. What would I do without you?" I ask Odie, who laughs and strikes a pose similar to a superhero.

I start to rise from his desk chair, tucking the PMR in my back pocket. Odie begins to get up as well, but just as I turn towards the door he clears his throat.

"Something happen between you and Jay?"

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

I was slightly concerned that the rest of the group was tuning into the uncomfortable and strained moments between Jay and myself that had been reasonably common recently. Ever since the night I didn't go to him, he's been acting distant and whenever we need to talk to each other, its forced and never lasts all that long.

I frown slightly, looking over my shoulder at Odie and masking my slight horror with a look of utter confusion. "No, why?"

"I don't know." Odie sits down in his desk chair, the one I was just in. "The air between you two just seems... different."

"Nope. We're fine, I guess its just been rough lately."

Odie shifts uneasily in his chair. "Atlanta seems to think that... something's going on between you two."

She was always such a curious and intuitive one, Atlanta. My hands wrap around Odie's doorknob, my eyes still on him. "I promise you Odie, the moment I hear word that 'something is going on' between Jay and myself, you will be the first to know. Not nosey Atlanta."

He cracks a smile and appears content with the answer I've given him. "Alright, if its a promise."

I leave the room, shutting the door behind me. Instantly a blue haze becomes visible from under the door. He's so predictable, its almost hilarious. Without much looking around on my behalf, I turn around and happen to smack right into Jay.

His hands come to grip my upper arms, holding me in place as he gazes down at me. I stare back and for a moment, I know we're both remembering how good it felt to be with each other in private. But the moment's abruptly gone and Jay backs himself away from me.

"Did you... um, fix your PMR?" he asks me and I realize Herry is standing behind him, watching us with almost too much interest.

"Yeah," I answer, nodding. "Something to do with the battery."

Herry steps around Jay, holding a basketball under one arm. "We're going to shoot some hoops, bet some cash, that sort of stuff. You up for a game?" He pretends to thrust the ball at me and I jump a little.

"Uh, no thanks. I've got some physics studying waiting for me." I look pointedly at Herry because if I stare at Jay for much longer, not only my face but other areas of me are going to heat up.

"Alright, have fun." Herry rolls his eyes and walks past me off down the hallway.

Jay lingers in front of me and out of the blue he's leaning down to my ear. "My room. I don't care when."

And then he's gone, following Herry down the hallway and leaving me with my working PMR and my racing heart and my incredibly jumbled thoughts.

He might as well have stuck a blender in my head.

--

Ever since ten o'clock hit, I've been battling internally with myself.

Everybody is in bed now, but whether or not they're asleep is a whole different story (I know it takes Archie quite a while to fall asleep). I'm so curious as to why Jay wants to see me... oh, bugger it all.

I throw back my sheets and leap out of my bed, crossing the room and escaping into the hallway. I don't even think I managed to close my door all the way before I'm walking down the hallway, counting to myself once again.

One, two, three...

His light is on, shining dimly from the crack at the bottom of the wood. I want to take the doorknob and walk in unannounced like our previous nightly meetings, but common curtsey falls upon me and I gently placed my knuckles on the door, knocking as softly as possible.

I almost turn, I almost chicken out. This is ridiculous. I am not his plaything, if he even thinks he's going to get me into his bed again Jay has another thing coming. As much as I try not to let it, resentment starts to bubble up inside of me.

But before I can successfully talk myself out of it, the door opens.

It looks like he's been running his fingers through his hair constantly, wearing a loose pair of sweat pants and no shirt. We don't say anything at first, which is oddly reminiscent of our midnight encounters. Jay swings the door open more, his arm stretched across the doorway.

I take a tiny breath and slip in underneath it. The light is bright and I'm unaccustomed to it as usually when we're in this position, its dark and the only source of light is the moon streaking through his curtains. But they're closed tonight, shutting out the outside world so that it's just me and him.

Just Theresa and Jay, as I've always thought it should be.

God, how I wish we had a real relationship. I know I overanalyze things and think too deeply, but never before have I ever -

"You didn't show up. But, I guess that's not the real issue here, is it?" He's talking to me, facing his drawn curtains.

I peer around the room, determined to remain unbroken. Never before have I ever felt such a strong not only physical but mental craving to be with someone.

"No," I find myself whispering back finally after several tense moments of silence in the room. "It's not, its definitely not."

"What is it? It got boring? I got boring? The entire lunacy of it all got to you?"

His voice at this exact moment in time, the way its like a drill in my head, puncturing my self esteem and confidence; I almost hate him a little. At last, I step up to the plate. I come clean, my hands twisted together in pure anxiety.

"The latter," I whisper. "How long did you really think we were going to fool around, Jay? I guess I was getting tired of hiding it, keeping it our dirty little secret. Why did we even carry on for all those weeks? Shouldn't we be ashamed?"

"Ashamed?" Jay turns towards me in amazement. "Why, because we had something going on behind everybody else's backs?!"

"No!" My voice rises a few octaves in the room. "Because we can't admit to ourselves what's really going on here!"

"Yeah? Tell me, Theresa, what the hell is really going on?"

He's smirking, smirking so smugly that I want to punch him very hard that his precious face is forever squashed. My anger gets the best of me.

"We're having sex because we fucking can!" I snap angrily, watching his eyebrows raise. "We're having sex because maybe we can, maybe its overdue, maybe we need it. There was nothing there, Jay, but pure lust!" I let out a strangled sigh.

"Do you even care that it meant more to me than a meaningless way to get off? Do you even care that I happen to want a relationship, that I happen to be in love with you?"

He fires back immediately, arms folded across his naked chest and eyes alight with a mixture of passion and anger. "Well I love you too, you batty woman!"

We're angry, there's no denying the fact. We're fuming, but never in my entire seventeen years of existence have I ever wanted to kiss someone more. Our gazes are heated and I know we both realize that perhaps we've woken somebody else up, but the thought escapes my mind entirely when Jay steps forward towards me.

"Its never been about the sex, Theresa." His voice is soft now, his fingers trailing up and down my arm. "Its just been about... about you. Just you."

"Why..." My voice cracks and I want to hide my face in his chest. "Why has this taken so long?"

Jay's chuckle is warm across my forehead. "Because I'm a wuss, that's why." He leans down and instead of kissing my lips, hungrily devouring them like previous nights, he places a simple kiss on the part in my hair.

"Its always been you, even if I haven't shown it exactly," Jay whispers, sighing. "I just... I didn't know... fuck, I don't know, I just didn't know how to - "

I shush him by pecking him briefly on the lips. "I don't know either. But I do know, without a single doubt, that I love you and I'm not going to let anything get in the way of that."

Cronus, be damned. This is what I want.

I spent the night there but instead of ripping away clothes and making marks on each other's body, I snuggle up in Jay's bed, laying my head on his chest and listening to the steady beatbeat of his heart. He falls asleep before me, but I continue to listen.

Beatbeat, beatbeat, beatbeat.

In the morning, we walk hand in hand down the hallway, passing a complete flabbergasted Odie and a very smug-looking Atlanta. The others are just as shocked. It's a long time coming, apparently.

Oh, how little they truly know.