title: i don’t wanna just make love, i wanna make love last
word count: 1.9k
pairing: killervibe
information: @ me: happy birthday. something small to continue on with the tradition of birthday fics to myself. also side note @ninzied tagged me in a thing where you publish the last sentence you had written for a fic and i, for the life of me, couldn’t tell you what it was bc i haven’t written a fic since the last published fic... and so i may have written this, in part, to respond to her tag. thanks girl :)
Her voice is fragile like glass, precious like silver, and when he turns to Caitlin, he is once again taken back in awe. She is a goddess, bathed in moonlight standing before him, his button up shirt haphazardly done, and he can see that it is all off by a button, the edge of the shirt reaching mid-thigh.
And Cisco burns to touch her, to have her back in his arms, to reverse time itself so he could relive the memories of hours earlier, her hand on his bare chest, his fingers carding through her hair, lips on lips, skin on skin. It had been everything he had dreamt of for years, the man so utterly, devastatingly in love with Caitlin. It had been everything he had dreamt of and more, so much more. Because she was real, she was warm under his touch, breathless gasps and quiet mewls of pleasure in his ear as she encouraged him on. It was magical, it was perfection.
It was only for that night.
He runs away almost immediately after she fell asleep, Caitlin burying herself in his pillow, a gentle smile on her lips as she whispers to him to have a good night. She sounds so content and happy and he hates it, hates that he falls even more in love with her, hates that he knows the sound of her voice rough with sleep, thick with satisfaction.
It will haunt him for nights to come, his mind playing the worst tricks on him. It isn’t a question - Cisco knows he will hear it in every dream, will think it means forever when it only means a night. And he’ll wake up each morning, a new ache in his chest as reality comes crashing down on him, a mourning for something that never existed.
Cisco slinks into the kitchen to lick the wounds of his broken heart, a warm cup of milk by his side as he stares outside the window into the starless night. It remains untouched, his hands heavy and mouth unwilling to cooperate with him. Instead he loses himself in his thoughts, mind millions of miles away and yet only a few feet across from where he is sitting, in his bed, with her.
And that is where she finds him.
The steps toward him are almost hesitant, Caitlin slow in her movements, cautious as she approaches him. He hadn’t responded to her words, a blank look on his face as he drinks her in before turning his head to stare at the clouds above. There is movement, and he can feel the couch sink beside him as she settles down. His hairs stand on end and he years to reach those scant millimetres, to pull her against him, to hold her, to cradle her. He clenches his fists, squeezes his eyes shut, Cisco assaulted by the memory of doing just that, of having her against him, his face buried in her hair, the lavender scent of her shampoo quickly becoming his favourite in the world.
But he is silent for too long, is non responsive and closed off when she is open and vulnerable. “I can leave now if you want.” She sounds so small, so quiet in the suggestion. And god, just hearing it cuts his heart up into a thousand pieces. If he were a stronger man he’d tell her that it would be best, he would give her a gentle kiss on her cheek as he wishes her a good night. If he were a stronger man he’d be able to smile at her, be able to meet her eyes without the fear three words would slip out and scare her away forever.
But he isn’t, and so he reaches out almost immediately after those words are spoken, a hand wrapping itself around her wrist, holding there with him. There is a wild panic in his eyes and he shouldn’t have turned to meet her gaze, not when he was feeling so raw and vulnerable, his emotions shining in his eyes. But she is just as bad, the hurt she was feeling bubbling just under the surface and he can see it in her, in the way her bottom lip trembles, how she angles her face away from his.
It is only then that he hears the quiet exhale of relief, sees her body relax at his response, feels the thundering of her pulse under his fingertips. “Never,” he breathes. And it is too much, he’s telling her so much in those words. He should be afraid, he is afraid. But he could never let her think that he wouldn’t want her by his side, not for a single moment, not when he wants her there forever. And it’s absentminded, the way his thumb strokes the inside of her wrist, Cisco revelling in the throbbing of her pulse, the reminder that she was there and it was real. And he knows if he dies, he’ll be content with the knowledge that he had one night to love her, one night to cherish her body the way she deserved, one night to memorise every inch of skin, to lose himself in her touch and taste and the very essence of her. “I could never want you to leave Cait.” The truth of the statement rings far too loudly for Cisco’s comfort.
“You snuck out of bed,” she shrugs. And it is her turn to look away, Caitlin staring fervently at something in the corner of his window. Her teeth are tugging at her bottom lip and he can see her building up her walls. “Figured maybe that was you saying the night was over.”
There is a false casualness in his response, and it takes all his strength to execute it. “Wasn’t sure if you’d be into the whole ‘cuddling’ thing.” It’s a lie, an absolute lie because he knows she is, knows that she rolled closer to him afterwards. It was him who stopped him, it was him who was so determined to protect himself from the inevitable heartache that he wouldn’t allow himself this extra piece of perfection.
“If you’re going to lie to me Cisco, make sure it isn’t that.” She tugs on the shirt, clutches the material in her hand and pulls it to the centre of her chest, as if the bunched up material would protect her from the hurt of his lies. There is a duck of her head, it is slight in movement, but it replays in his mind, the subtle flinch her most telling sign of being embarrassed and sad.
It is reflexive, the hand on her chin, lifting it up so he could meet her gaze. But the moment he does he lets go, hand pulling away immediately, Cisco shaking it as though the contact had burned his skin. Her laugh is brittle and he’s caught in a web of his own making. He forgets sometimes that she is his best friend and he hers, forgets that she knows him so well, too well – “Why did you leave me Cisco?”
- And yet, not well enough.
“I love you.” He had spent the night mouthing those words against her body, determined that she would feel them, if not in her heart than her skin, but now it is out in the open.
He is already bracing himself for the inevitable falling out.
But her only reaction is a flickering of a smile, a knowing look in her eye. A coldness sweeps through him, the idea that she had known all along, had pitied him, had taken him to bed only to break his heart when she would leave. He is bracing himself for the words that haunted his nightmares, Caitlin telling him that she didn’t love him, not like that, Caitlin unsure if they could still maintain their friendship if he pined after her so. It was his greatest fear, losing her. He wouldn’t be able to live if it happened.
And now it is a real possibility – he feels sick. His stomach is turning and the urge to run to the bathroom and vomit strikes him fiercely.
She does nothing of the sort, only puts her hands on his cheek and pulls him closer. He follows easily, like a rag doll, no resistance in his movement. How could he when it was Caitlin’s hands on his face, Caitlin he was drawing nearer to?
“I need you Cisco, just you, only you.” She echoes the words of earlier that night, of a time when he was learning all the secrets in her body, Caitlin pressed against his front door, the pair of them too eager and energised to take the steps to his bedroom. He had been kissing his way down her neck, the most delectable noises drawn from her and he could feast all his life on her. She had broken the connection, hands tugging him up to her lips, too strong and forceful and he thinks it perfect. Thinks her perfect. The words are soft gasps against his lips, and he can see the struggle as she holds herself away just enough to get them out before sealing his mouth with her own, sighing, as though it were sweet relief to be that close, to be kissing him once more.
He had thought she had only meant physically, thought she had only meant for then. Not forever. Not like he did.
But hearing it in the dark of night, her hand caressing his cheek, he thinks it sounds like a promise, he hopes –
She shakes her head and he’s mesmerised by how her curls swing side to side, how they bounce at the movement. And then she’s moving forward and she’s kissing him, they’re kissing. It is just as incredible as he remembers, more so. Because he can taste forever on her tongue, can lose himself in the knowledge that it isn’t just temporary, isn’t just this one night. She loves him, and the thought sends his heart fluttering in his chest, racing as she lifts her hand and cradles the left side of his face, fingers brushing the hair away from his face and behind his ear. They pull away much too soon, Caitlin bumping her nose against him at the whine of disappointment that escapes Cisco.
“I love you,” she whispers, eyes bright and open, and he can feel her urgency for him to understand just how much she means those words. The smile that breaks out, it isn’t something he can control. And he is at a loss for words, a shy grin on her own lips, just a shade of pride in it as she takes in the glow of his face. She whispers the words against his lips, whispers it against his cheek, whispers it in his ear. “I love you.” His hand flexes by his side, and it is a miracle he can fight the urge to pull her against him.
“I love you too.” The words come out rough and guttural, torn from the very depths of his soul. There is a softening of her eyes, and she kisses him once again, more a brushing of lips than a kiss, but it steals his breath all the same. And he can’t imagine a world where he wouldn’t be in awe, wouldn’t be surprised that such an incredible woman loved him back.
Cisco isn’t ready, doesn’t anticipate Caitlin throwing her leg over his body, her own settling on his lap. “Is this okay?”