Pairing: Leighton Meester/Garrett Hedlund
Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing.
For the wonderful lisal825, who shows an infinite amount of patience towards me and my fickle muse.
“You’re everywhere lately,” she murmurs to him on the verge of sleep, her face in his neck. There’s no jealousy in her tone – they knew that this was going to happen and he knows that no one is happier for him than her – but he thinks that maybe he hears a hint of sadness, buried deep, hiding, and he thinks that he’s probably the only one who could pick up on it.
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes but he’s not sure if that’s what she wants.
His hand runs up and down her back and he keeps his cheek pressed to the top of her head, her hair tickling his skin. She doesn’t respond though and her breath is deep and even. She’s asleep but he’s not tired. He’s visiting her in New York, filming for Gossip Girl having picked up after the hiatus, and his internal clock is so messed up. His body thinks it’s still in L.A. and it’s not ready for sleep. He’s been so busy lately, going here and there and seeing her is becoming harder and harder. And it’s something they’re still being quiet about – no one knows he’s in the city that weekend to see her. He knows she misses him and he misses her but there isn’t anything either of them can do about it.
He kisses her forehead and in her sleep, she nestles closer to him. She has to be up at four o’clock the next morning and it’s not enough time for either of them but he takes what he can get. He thinks of how happy she had been to see him hours earlier, practically leaping into his arms when he arrived at her hotel room and they had ordered room service and tried out the glass shower together. He had been so happy to see her and he had missed her so much and he hadn’t been able to stop kissing her and touching her and now, even hours later, he holds her when she sleeps and he doesn’t let go.
He knows she follows the magazines and the tabloids and the gossip websites. He’s been waiting for her to bring any of it up but she hasn’t.
He remembers what she told him at the Golden Globes in January. “You’re going to be so big,” she had whispered and gave his hand a squeeze. Her smile had been radiant and he had wanted to kiss her but he couldn’t with so many people around. There were those already suspecting that they were involved and both he and Leighton agreed that no matter what happened, they would keep it between them.
Months later and no one thinks about them anymore. They haven’t been seen together and the rumors that were running rampant the night after the award show have all been forgotten. Country Strong is coming out on DVD in a few days and they have a couple of promotional appearances to make together. He wonders if people will start talking about them again.
He was in Nashville a few weeks ago and had eaten dinner with Taylor Swift. Their managers had set it up. He had expected Leighton to mention it, to ask him if he’s going to see her again (he’s not) but she didn’t. He knows that if she had been seeing with some guy, he would question her about it. He would definitely ask her about it. He doesn’t know why she doesn’t ask about it.
In her sleep, she rolls away from him, curling on her side. The sheet slips away from her body, exposing a bare shoulder and back. He doesn’t let her go far. He shifts, curling his body around hers, resting an arm heavily over her hip and holding her close.
“I miss you,” she murmurs, still more asleep than awake, surprising him.
His nose is in her hair and he closes her eyes. “We can tell people about us,” he suggests and he feels like this is something one of them brings up every time they’re together.
“I don’t know… Taylor might hear and she’ll write a song about how you broke her heart,” she teases, a smile pulling in her voice and he grins, squeezing her closer.
“I was wondering when you were going to bring that up,” he says.
She’s quiet for a moment and he thinks that maybe she’s fallen back asleep. “I was pretending like it never happened,” she whispers.
He doesn’t know what to say to that. “It didn’t mean anything.”
“It never does. I read that you two have been emailing each other,” she then tells him.
“Leigh,” he sighs heavily and rolls away from her onto his back, rubbing a hand through his hair. She keeps her back turned to him and a thick silence hangs over them. It isn’t supposed to be like this. They haven’t seen each other in weeks and he has been looking forward to this New York trip for that long.
“I have a photo shoot with Penn early. I need to get some sleep,” she whispers and there’s silence again.
“Leigh,” and this time, it’s soft and regretful and he stares at the pale expanse of bare skin of her back.
The only reason he went out with Taylor is because it shuts everyone up. He hasn’t been doing that this long and he’s too private of a person apparently. Everywhere he goes and every interview he goes, they always ask the same questions, who is dating being the main one. Leighton is private like him, too – having a mother in prison tends to do that to a person – and they don’t feel like having their entire relationship out there for everyone to study and rip apart. He’s found that it’s just easier if he goes out and is seen with other girls and lets the tabloids keep guessing and everyone just shuts the hell up.
She shifts and she comes back to him, resting her head on his shoulder, her legs twisted with his. He wraps his arm around her and her hand rests on his bare chest over his heart. She exhales a soft breath and she closes her eyes as he begins sifting his fingers through her hair.
“I should just stop reading all of that stuff. None of it’s true. I know that. I just…” she says softly. “I feel like I’m cyber stalking you.”
He smirks and kisses her forehead. “You’re assuming I don’t do the same,” he says.
She laughs softly. “Oh, please. You still hardly know how to work your phone. I doubt you even know where to begin cyber stalking me.”
He grins and his hand slowly slips beneath the sheet, tracing the slope of her spine. She presses her lips to his scruffy jaw line and one of her legs slides over both of his. He’s still grinning when she maneuvers her body and she’s straddling him. His hands slide up her thighs and she cups his cheeks when she leans down and kisses him. She’s smiling, which makes him smile, and they both moan as she sinks onto his length, spreading her thighs just a little bit wider, taking him in deeper. His teeth scrape against her neck and she gasps right in his ear. Her hands dig into the pillow on either side of his head and she starts to grind down almost immediately. He has to clench his teeth together, struggling for control.
She completely surrounds him. Her fingers are in his hair, her lips are against his cheek, her breath warm and heavy on his skin, and she’s so tight – he can never get enough of her.
“We should get married,” he grunts.
She lets out a breathless laugh. “That’s keeping a low profile,” she still moves above him. “Besides, what will all of your other girlfriends say?”
He flips them over so fast, she hardly realizes it until his lips are on hers and he’s back sliding between her legs, his hips meeting hers and his arms hooking around her thighs. They try to find a rhythm but they’re both too desperate and too soon, his hand maneuvers between their bodies and touches her. She comes, long and loud, and he follows soon after, his body collapsing heavily on top of hers. He feels her arms embrace him and her lips are brushing against his ear.
“Tell me,” he breathes into her ear.
She doesn’t ask what he wants. She knows. She always just knows. It’s been like that between them since the first day they met during their screen test. “I only want you going out with me.”
He turns his head and presses his face to the crook of her neck. “We’ll go out and get breakfast tomorrow somewhere. Before your photo shoot,” he decides. “I’ll even let you hold my hand.”
He grins when she pinches his back but then her arms are hugging him tightly and she kisses his shoulder. He doesn’t have to look at her face to know that she’s smiling. He smiles, too.