Getting back with Kit Harington --Part I
After a nasty break up, you and Kit find yourselves running in the same circles again. The spark returns, more fierce than before, and you both know there's nowhere out of this situation---you're getting back together--against all odds.
Warnings: Mostly background story, Mild descriptive smut, fingering, and fluff.
DO NOT repost outside of Tumblr, please.
You park your car on the driveway and step out. You could already hear the party in full swing, laughter and loud chatter filling the air. It is a special night, after all, where everyone is celebrating the recent major contract your team scored with Netflix. Since so many writers, producers, actors and everyone in between was invited, you know that Kit is going to be there. You have actually seen him a couple of times already at the office, at the contract signing, and before that for a quick meeting. It had been like a shock the first you'd seen each other again. You both said a million words in only a lingering gaze. The yearnings, the jealousy, the memories, the regret...it all came flooding back.
You two have broken up for almost a year. It's hard to believe. You'd dated since your teens, both of you being each others' first love, in every single way imaginable. The bond you shared was unbreakable, or so you thought, until adulthood came knocking at the door, with endless responsibilities and higher stakes.
Gone were the days when the two of you snuck out to meet under your favorite oak tree, to read to one another, to kiss for hours. The nights spent watching the stars and listening to his favorite music on the bed of his truck, which started with so many cuddles and always ended with amazing sex. The birthday parties, the little anniversary gifts, even a few little getaways to the mountains, a place you both love.
But when you landed your dream marketing job working for Netflix, and he scored major acting roles and then even managed to direct his own shows, it became harder to work on your relationship. You tried to make it work in whatever way possible, but it brought too much chaos. Work life balance was a new experience for both of you. Your long distance relationship made you selfishly jealous and you began to wonder if he had any feelings for his coworkers, beautiful actresses he was now always surrounded by. He too had become jealous, and stressed from all the work demands he had begun to shut down instead of talking through your issues.
You still remember the night that ended it all.
You had finally met up in Paris after a three month absence. He had been working there on a film, and when you finally got a break from a huge marketing campaign, you flew out to meet him. The first night there was filled with excitement. You both could barely contain yourselves, missing each other so much. You had been all hands, all mouths, exploring each other as if it were the first time. But after that initial bliss wore off, and his cell beeped a billion times, you picked it up from the nightstand to pass it to him. You glanced at it and saw her name: Katherine, the recent bombshell he had been filming with.
Her messages to him were flirtatious, although there was nothing from Kit that screamed he was into her. One thing led to another, and a huge fight broke out, bringing up the real issue at hand: you two were in different spaces, in all ways. Physically living in opposites countries of the world; both completely devoted to your careers; both surrounded by way too many people with too much input on your lives, input that you foolishly welcomed.
Fast forward to now, as you enter through the front door. Paul, a co-worker greets you with a kiss on the cheek and as he does so you see Kit at the bottom of the stairs. He watches you, a hint of annoyance lingering on his face as Paul kissed you. It was a friendly greeting, you had been working with him for a whole year. Plus, you and Kit were not together anymore, and you could do what you wanted.
Then why did you feel the unexplainable urge to tell him Paul was just a friend?
Paul grabs the wine bottle out of your hands. "I'll take it to the kitchen. Meet us out back, by the pool, everyone's there."
You nod, but you figured not everyone is there...Kit is here, looking at you, both hands shoved in his pockets, expectantly.
"Hi," he says, once Paul leaves. The foyer was dim and you see the shadows on his face. When you were dating he had been clean shaven, and you often teased him about his baby-face. Now, after a year, he has a beard and mustache, and his thick curls have grown out. You swallow a lump, memories of your hands running through his hair fixating in your head.
"Hey," you replied, walking closer to him. "I thought you didn't like parties."
"That still hasn't changed," he answers with a little smile. "But you know, I have to show up every once in a while."
You nod and take in the scent of his cologne. He wore the same one. The intoxicating smell of cedar, leather and rosemary.
"Well, let's not let them wait, Mr. Producer," you say, trying to keep it professional. "They're out back."
He grabs your wrist gently. "I know," he whispered. "So maybe you and I can talk? Privately? I think we need to."
You look into his dark brown eyes, heart starting to race. Is this a good idea? The last time you talked it was awful. You both had said things you didn't mean, and your relationship ended. You think how hard it was to get over the hurt, the pain of losing him, the incredible void he left in your life. You still weren't fully healed from the breakup, and just standing in the same room right now, you feel the old wounds reopening.
"I don't know if we should," you say, "the last time we talked we made a mess of things."
"Exactly," he replies, his voice low and soft. "I think we need to rectify that."
You nod, and agree to follow him upstairs. This isn't a house, it's a mansion, one you've visited before. He takes you into the smaller lounge room, a cozy but beautiful place with opulent bookshelves and a roaring fire. He closes the door behind you.
He looks at you silently for a long moment, so much sitting in his gaze, and you wonder if he wants you to start talking first. You can't. Where would you begin? How can you unleash the sadness, the yearning, the apologies, the anger that you've felt the last past 12 months?
Luckily he finally speaks. "Y/N.....there's so much I want to say." He gulps, and you can tell he's trying to steady his breath not to let his emotions get the best of him. "I wanted to call a million times, I swear."
"But you didn't." You're surprised at your words but they are truthful. After the fight you both remained radio silent. But you had wanted him to call you. To say he was sorry, that you were the only girl he loved , that he couldn't live without you. You knew from a close friend whom worked with Kit, that although Katherine had tried, he had never entertained a relationship with her. Still, why didn't he call you? Why didn't he fight to get you back? Maybe he really did move one. Maybe you were too grown up, too self centered, too detached to hold on to the relationship you once had.
"I didn't," he admits, "because I'm an idiot. Because I spiraled. I spiraled bad." Your face softens. You had heard rumors, and even read a few tabloid stories, about his drunken episodes and even a rehab stint. Then there was the death of one of his best friends, something he took very hard for what you'd heard. That had thrown him into more chaos.
"When you left Paris, I was so fucking mad," he begins again, "....more at myself for losing you. So I thought you were better off without me, that I would get over it, that I could concentrate on my career....but I didn't. I tried to get through it, not in the best of ways."
"I've heard," you reply. "And I'm sorry. I hope you're in a better place now." He had been open in a recent interview about his rehab stint, and he had seems genuinely better, something that bring you so much joy and relief.
He nods, a spark of hope settling in his eyes. "I am. But not completely. There's a huge part of me that never recovered from the loss."
"That's right, I'm sorry about Steven," you say. "I should've called when I heard---I just ....didn't know if you wanted to hear from me, or if I'd make it worse. "
"That's not what I meant," Kit says and moves in closer to you. Closing the distance between you, your heart skips a beat. "Steven's passing was hard, yes. But I knew he was heading in a horrible direction. I tried to help him, having been there myself. He didn't want a way out." His eyes look deep into your soul, the only way he can do. "I didn't recover from losing you."
You release a sigh. You'd wanted to hear those words from him for twelve months, and now, there he was, uttering them softly to you. Then why did they bring you sadness instead of joy and relief?
You take a step back and shake your head.
"Y/N...please," he says.
"I wanted this moment to happen for so long. I have cried nearly every night, feeling like I was going through withdrawals. Reliving all of our moments, the letters, the text messages, the endless i love yous, the dreams and plans we made together." Tears welled in your eyes now, and you hated not being able to stop them. "I thought to myself: any day he's going to call me. Any moment he's going to come back. But you didn't. And yeah, I didn't either, I didn't call, I didn't text, I didn't fly out to see you and patch things up, but I did remember one thing: You telling me that you'd never change for anything, that you'd never let anything or anyone come before me. But you did. You left me behind. When you signed that contract you didn't ask me to go with you, to be by your side. You packed and left. Like we were nothing, like I meant nothing!"
I am struggling to breathe through the tears and he reaches out to touch my face, tears forming in his own eyes. "Y/N, I knew you had career plans of your own...I didn't want to interfere, and I thought we could make it work long distance for a while," he says.
"But not for two fucking years, Kit."
"I know, you're right," he says, trying to close the distance again. He takes my face in his hands now, his thumbs wiping my tears. "I was blinded by the money, the opportunities, but I swear I thought I was doing all of it for us, for our future."
"A future you took away," I sob.
The words hurt him, I can see the sting in his expression.
"No," he whispers and a tear betrays him by falling down his cheek. "No, it's still there. We are still here, right now, like this." He wraps his arm around me and pulls me close to him. "Please tell me I'm not too late. Please, please, Y/N."
Is he too late? What does my heart tell me? All I've ever wanted is Kit. And now in his arms, I feel like we have never been apart. I still mold into his frame perfectly, my hands resting on his chiseled chest, still recognizing the rhythm of his heartbeat.
"I've grown a lot this past year," he continues, his voice his beautiful low timbre, a velvety tone that wraps around me. "I've made some huge mistakes. Letting you go was the biggest one. But I think...I think that needed to happen, Y/N."
I look up at him, surprised.
"I needed to take care of myself. I started spiraling before you left, I was just good at hiding it. From you, from our friends, and from myself. But I had a problem. I couldn't tell you, I was too ashamed. And when you left that problem grew into a monster. I couldn't get over my addiction, I couldn't function. It brought back a lot of things, from my childhood, and I had to face them."
"I could've faced them with you," I reply. "By your side. We always had each others' backs."
"Yes, but this was something I had to do on my own. I had to face the ugly truth alone, and I know now I'm stronger for it." His breath caresses my face. "I can now say I'm finally the man I need to be. The man you deserve."
"You always deserved me," I whisper. "No matter what."
Before I know it, I'm back in a place I knew well. In his arms, both tightly pulling me against his chest. His mouth covering mine, his tongue parting my lips, desperately looking for mine. We are all teeth, heavy breaths, and sighs of relief. This is the place I belong, the place I've never left in my mind and heart, despite the year apart.
He pushes me back until we hit the sofa. Stumbling backwards I lay onto the sofa, the weight of his body pressing against mine, and there it is, in an instant.
An explosion of time and space finally merging, closing the gap of the year we wasted, that tore us apart, that destroyed us. The fibers of his own sighs of relief, the way his body relaxes as I allow him to come back into my grace, the touch of our lips, the taste of our tongues, all of it creates a healing bubble around us.
His mouth reaches my neck, kissing and sucking at the tender skin like he's a starved man. But we both are. We have both missed each other so much that this hunger is too much to bear.
"Maybe not here...not now" I try to say through a moan, remembering where we are.
"Yes here, yes now," he says, his heavy, ragged breath intoxicating me. "I am not going to waste another second without you in my arms."
His hands are slowly trailing up my thighs . His palms are hot against my skin, and every inch of my body begins to burn for him. He kisses my lips again, harder, and we are breathless. His fingers are up to my hips then slowly find my panties. I have to hold back a loud moan when I feel his hand, warm and velvety, pulling them down.
"Never again," he says, "never again..." and his finger dips in between my wet folds, sending sparks of ecstasy through me.
And I know what he means. Never again will we let anything tear us apart. That torture ends now--and welcomes us back to where we should be. Our bodies tangled up, his finger plunging inside me, deep and slow at first, but then as he lets out a guttural "fuck", he thrusts it in deeper, faster, evoking obscenities from my mouth, My body arches, electricity zapping through me, wanting more, needing him entirely.
"Oh God, Kit..." I moan, then bit down on his shoulder, hoping to find a way to shut up.
"I love you, Y/N," he says, his lips returning to my neck. "I can't live without you. I was a fool. I'm never letting you go again."
I look up at him, and his fingers slows down, although as his black eyes stare into my soul, sweet and possessive , the motion of his thrusting is sending me over the edge.
"Never again?" I say, breathless.
Kit shakes his head. "Never. I've turned down the new contract. I'm not going back, Y/N. I'm staying here with you."
I struggle to comprehend his words. Between his fingers working me as if I am straw turning into gold, his scent driving me into a wild animal, and his own heavy breathing intoxicates me, I try to understand what he just said.
"You..'re....uh, You're staying?"
"If you'll have me," he says, a flicker of fear temporarily washing over his beautiful features.
WIll I? Or maybe the question is, how could I not? Yes, we wasted a year. We wasted precious moments. But it needed to happen, and yes, I believe him. He needed to experience his pain, to face his demons, alone. The breakup hurt, it broke me to pieces. I can tell it did the same to him. But what is a year of our lives, when the endless eternity of our love story still needs to unfold?
"Yes, yes!" I moan, both because my heart is overjoyed at the thought of us being back together, and because he's inserted another finger inside of me. With each pump, I feel my body ache with need, and he watches me. He watches me as I cum on his hand, like I'm the most beautiful sight in the world.
I roll through my orgasm and he drops his head onto my chest. I wonder if he can hear the frantic heartbeat pounding in my chest.
"I love you so fucking much," he says, then gently kisses my chest.
"I love you, too," I answer. "Are you sure that turning down this contract is the right thing to do?"
He looks up at me, his eyes filled with unshed tears, and I hope to go he'll release them with mine, so we can both heal from the pain we caused each other the past year. We need it. We need the raw, honest, release of pain. But there's time for that.
"I've never been more sure of anything." He brings up a hand and caresses my cheek. "There will always be more contracts. But there is only one of you, and this time, I won't fuck it up."
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Hope you've liked Part I. What would like to see happen in Part II? <3
