Chapter Text
It was a Friday like any other, but for Jules, it was a day where she would’ve needed an indefinite amount of hours. She tossed away a cigarette bud and sighed, as she knew Andres disliked when people smoked, but today, she was too anxious not to attempt to silence her brain by any means necessary. By that time they shouldn’t meet for another thirty minutes, but Jules had learned that he was always at least fifteen minutes early, so she had arrived way before the intended time. Feeling like freezing was a small price to pay for that. She would be the first one on the scene, not to ensure that she wouldn’t be in a hurry, but to prepare herself. If Andres Morrison knew what she was about to do, he wouldn’t look at her the same way ever again. She was too hard. Too cold. Too unlike the girl he had learned to know in the past weeks, the one who danced at the bars where the band played jazz or bossa nova, the one who wore red lipstick and had slight freckles on the top of her nose. Still, today, she wanted to be that girl whose biggest problem in the world was how to straighten her bangs every morning and what toppings to put on the oatmeal she ate every morning.
“Almost there. Sorry I’m a bit early,” the message on the phone said.
If he only knew that the slight wind of the early September evening was the least of Jules’ problems tonight. She simply wanted one more night, one day when she could just simply exist.
“Don’t hurry, it’s all good,” she answered before stuffing the phone back into her pocket.
At this point, she knew that it wouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes for Andres to arrive at the cafe they had agreed to meet at. They had gone to the same cafe before, but Jules wasn’t sure if she was supposed to wait outside, or watch from the window as Andres would cross the street and order a coffee before joining her. It was too late to smoke another cigarette, and for a person who smoked only irregularly, the four she had already gone through today were four more than the whole last month. In theory, it would’ve been more comfortable to wait inside. There was no point in going there, as the minutes ticked away. She would suffer the wind all the way until he would arrive. Going inside now was as unnecessary as trying to get the smell of the smoke out of her fingertips before she would sink those same fingers into the curls of his hair, and kiss his lips like there was nothing wrong in the world.
“Jules!” the familiar voice yells from across the street. “Just a second!”
He was not a loud person, but maybe a bit too caring. When Jules met his gaze across the street, she wondered if that was exactly why she had wanted to keep him around, although she also knew that their days together were more than limited. When they had first met at the same cafe they had agreed to meet today, it was simply by chance, and she had not been prepared for anyone to approach her that evening. It was rare that anyone talked to each other without being forced to, but apparently the fact of every table being full and Jules having unoccupied chair had been enough of a reason for them to change a couple of words, which had evolved into a full conversation, and another round of coffee before they had noticed that an hour had passed.
“It’s rare to see anyone just sitting at the table and not doing anything else,” he had said.
Jules had had one goal that day, and it had been to clear her head. Memorising details for a whole day, and ensuring her work was flawless, had taken a toll, and she had just wanted to idle the rest of the day away. If she had tried to read a book or listen to music after a long day, she was sure her brain would’ve exploded.
“Haven’t you ever done people-spotting?” she had asked. “Just looked at the people and imagined what their life is, and listened to what they told each other.”
“So you’re basically eavesdropping?” Andres had asked while sitting on the chair across hers.
“Call it that if you want, but I’m not ashamed of doing that. They’re in a public space, so it’s not their secret if they say it out loud, it’s our secret,” Jules had answered with a hint of a smile on her face.
On the first glance, Andres had been a man like anyone else. Jules had looked at him across the table, the man who was older than her, but most likely still not in his forties, with slight wrinkles around his eyes, deep grey eyes and dark hair with wavy curls, with a couple of grey strands on it. His eyes looked gentle and kind, and his fingers gripped the coffee cup when he spoke.
“Any secrets to share, miss, or do you prefer the silence?” he had asked.
“Jules,” she had answered. “Please, don’t call me a miss. It sounds way too formal by itself, so if you call me anything, call me by my name. And not yet, but there is still time for that to change. So to also answer your question, mister, no, we don’t have to sit in silence unless you want that.”
“When you say it like that, it is maybe a bit formal. Andres Morrison, pleasure to sit at your table, miss Jules.”
Andres had reached his hand forward, and she had taken it before thinking about it more. His hand had been warm, and the smile on his face had been even warmer. At that moment, Jules didn’t know if the warmth she felt inside herself had been because of the coffee or because of the person across the table. When they met again the next day, went to a dinner and ended the night at Andres’ home, her sitting on his lap, her hands behind his neck and their lips brushing against each other, she didn’t have to ask where the warmth came from.
“Did you wait for long?” Andres asked as he walked to Jules.
She looked up at the man who was early as he always was, but who still looked like the world was about to end as he hadn’t been even earlier. Jules couldn't help but to smile and embrace him before even answering. What they had was not something deep or once in a lifetime, but it still felt good. He made Jules’ life as it currently was a bit more bearable, even though he didn’t know that.
“Not too long,” Jules answered with her face pressed against Andres’ chest.
He could for sure smell the cigarettes on her skin, and if she would try to argue against that, she would’ve been caught up in a lie. Lying any more to him was something Jules wanted to avoid, because there were enough lies between the two of them already.
“Your fingertips are cold,” Andres said as she pulled away from him. “You could’ve waited for me inside, or not waited at all. I hate that you have had to stand here for me.”
“That’s just how life is, Mr Morrison. One has to wait most times, and it can’t always be you,” Jules answered.
In just a few footsteps, she reached the door and pushed it open before Andres had time to open it to her. As much as Jules wanted to tell herself, and to him, that she was fine with waiting, the reality was that she had been cold for the past few minutes and yearned for a warm cup of coffee. It was a nice little ritual, meeting at the coffee shop and not just going straight to his apartment where both of them knew where they would end up. Drinking coffee gave them both a reason to remain civil and care about each other more than as a warm body and someone to press against after a long day. Jules admitted to herself that she liked to hear about Andres’ days, even though he had been vague and more often than not left some details in the dark. She wasn’t any better. Every time she told him anything about her life, she had more lies and secrets to remember. To him, she was Jules Smith, a student at the local university, finishing up her degree, which was only made trickier because of her father, who was a professor and expected nothing but excellence from her. It was a comfortable lie to tell, as it was laced with truth. Her father was a professor, but had never required her to be more than what she was. It was her own mind which told her she was not good enough, that she would never be good enough, no matter what she did and how much harder she pushed herself.
“Can I also get a cinnamon roll, please?” Jules asked from a cashier after gazing at the pastries for approximately two seconds.
She had deserved a small sweet treat after her day. If a simple pastry was something that helped her to remain somewhat of a human, there would be worse ways to alleviate her frustrations. A sweet treat, and the promise of eventually leaving the cafe, taking the five-minute bus ride to Andres’ house and spending two to three hours enjoying sinful activities. Jules took her coffee and a small plate before heading to the table with two chairs and a view of the street. The cafe was much quieter than it had been on the day they had met the first time.
“You survived yet another day?” Jules asked, as Andres sat at the table.
“Somehow, even though the chief is not getting any easier, on the contrary,” he answered and took a sip of his coffee so it wouldn’t spill to the table.
Jules had learned that if there was something Andres liked to do, it was trash-talking about the chief of the police, which was a bold move for someone who worked directly under him. It was also bold for Jules to be anywhere near Andres, but as long as she was just a university student and let nothing slip, there was little to worry about.
“Maybe you could take a long holiday?” Jules asked, half jokingly. “Or maybe he could finally accept he won’t get any younger and retire, so you would have even a bit of an easier time?”
“That man won’t retire. He will continue until his corpse gets dragged off the scene,” Andres answered, with a hint of a smile on his lips.
“Don’t jinx your boss.”
Whether or not the laugh she made was genuine, Jules didn’t know. What she knew, however, was that she would hopefully never meet the man Andres talked about in person. What the two of them had worked. She said she didn’t want him at her home as she lived in a small shared apartment and he dodged any details of his work. She knew he was a police officer, and he knew she was young enough to possibly want to keep him a secret from her roommates. The latter wasn’t true, but it worked to keep the fact that Jules lived in a hotel room hidden. She looked at the man across the table, and how his eyes didn’t leave her for a second.
Moments like this made him incredibly kissable, so Jules bent forward and in the next moment, she tasted the black, bitter coffee on her lips. She could never drink her coffee like that. She liked it when it had milk and syrup to make the liquid taste something that only somewhat resembled coffee. But when she had to taste the bitterness, she knew Andres would still taste the aftermath of the cigarettes, so they both got a sliver from each other's world. Still, neither of them wanted to pull away immediately, and only the fact they were at the cafe made them part before one of them would be out of breath.
“If you want to scold me for breaking my good one-month break, you’re allowed to do that,” Jules said as she leaned back to her seat.
“You’re an adult. Scolding someone for smoking is something a parent does to their kid, and if that is the worst you’ll do, it is within acceptable limits,” Andres answered.
The worst she would do, that’s what he said. He had no idea that in less than twenty-four hours, she would’ve done something much worse than filling her lungs with smoke, which would kill her slowly. If something didn’t work out, the cigarettes wouldn't have time to kill her before something else would. Jules took a bite from her cinnamon roll, which made her life marginally better. The fewer thoughts she had on her brain, the better. If this was the last night of normalcy, she would take every bit of it she could get.
“Drink your coffee,” Jules said. “We both know this is not the place we want to spend the whole evening.”
“How bold of you to order me around like that, Ms Smith,” he answered while taking a sip from his cup.
“And yet you do exactly as I said. We both know that you are too nice to disobey a lady.”
“It depends on the lady,” Andres said. “But during this short time I’ve known you, I’ve learned that obeying you usually leads to good things.”
Jules grinned at Andres after the words left his mouth. He was a clever man, not only by the usual sense of the word but also by how he threaded on the line of being teaseful and obedient. It was a balance where sometimes, they talked to each other about the mundane topics, and then, in the next moment, one of them moved further, like testing the waters. If they had known each other for a longer time, there would’ve been known boundaries, but now, it was a constant game for both of them. Jules loved when she found which was just far enough for Andres to take the bait, and made him answer to her. It was like pulling the leash, except they both held one end and wanted another one to pull it, making their time together electrifying.
Because Jules knew that there were two kinds of time, the one which was everything before tomorrow, and the one after tomorrow, she wanted to end one of her timelines the best way possible. The last bites of the pastry tasted stale, not because it would’ve been badly made, but because there was someone she wanted more. At the same time, Andres didn’t have the slightest idea of how her mind was racing. If he had known, he would’ve left in an instant. She needed to keep herself together, even though she felt like she was exploding.
The door of the apartment had barely closed when Andres’ body pressed against Jules’. Her back hit the wall, and she felt familiar fingers threading through her hair, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that tasted of bitter coffee and something sweeter, something like he had been waiting for this for all eternity, when in reality it had been three days since they had met the last time. The force of the kiss startled her at first, but she didn't pull away. For a moment, her body thought that something was not right, until she remembered where she was. This was not a place where she would need to be aware of everything happening around her, but somewhere where she could let go. A place where she could be simply a girl. She wouldn’t need to push a body against hers away. Instead, she could welcome it, let his taste seep into her, and allow herself to feel like floating just where she was, even if just for a fleeting moment.
Andres’ hands moved from Jules’ hair to her waist, and when his fingers tried to cover as much of her as possible, it felt as though by gripping tighter he could keep her there, keep her from slipping through his fingers. Moments like that made her wonder if he knew more than what she thought, even though she couldn’t. She had done the perfect job of creating the person she was for him. No matter if all of it would end tomorrow or continue after she would be back, if she would be back, she was Jules Smith, an ordinary girl chasing perfection and pleasure. Her hands trailed down Andes’ back as she pressed herself closer, craving more of the warmth, more of the illusion that everything was simple, that tonight was just another night.
“Please hold me close,” Jules whispered between the kisses.
The sentence was more like a plea, like she would collapse if he would let go of her. The longer she felt his body, the more her mind played every previous day they had spent together in a loop, and she wanted to stay in those moments, as well as in the present. She wanted to kiss him a million times, and then a million times more, before the night ended. Jules could feel the beat of Andres’ heart against her chest, and how it echoed her own. His eyes searched hers, as if trying to find answers to questions and to the bits she hadn’t revealed yet and never would. She wasn’t ready for him to see that much.
With a gentle tug at his collar, Jules pushed Andres away from her, enough to give her space to move, but not so much that she could lose him for even a millisecond. Her fingertips interlocked with his, and the house which had become familiar to her in the past weeks had only one place where she wanted to be. She had woken up to the smell of fresh breakfast and sat on the sofa watching movies in the past, but she knew she would be long gone before the morning. If her hours were as limited as they were, she would make every second count.
“Lie down,” Jules said and looked up into Andres’ eyes. “I want to see your face when I kiss you and when I unbutton that shirt, which is in a way.”
Andres said nothing and Jules saw how he obliged without hesitation and lowered himself onto the bed. It felt both beautiful and powerful to see him follow her orders, and Jules knew she could take all the time she ever wanted. If she wanted to be quick, she could go through all the small buttons of his dress shirt, but she could also unbutton them torturously slowly. He would thank her either way. She ran her hands down his chest while sitting next to him, fingertips grazing over the fabric of his shirt and feeling how his chest rose and lowered as he breathed.
“You look beautiful,” Jules said. “Thank you for talking to me in that cafe.”
“This’s when you thank me? Is something wrong? We can stop if you want,” Andres said.
Jules tossed her legs on both sides of him, so she sat on him. She felt his body tense for a second as a smile rose on his face, and she knew he enjoyed what she did.
“We are not stopping today. I already told you I’ll be busy for the next week, so today, I won’t stop until I know I’ve had enough for an entire week,” she answered.
It was not a lie. She would be busy. Busy doing something that, if gone wrong, would mean that she would need to disappear. Not seeing Andres again wouldn’t be the end of the world for her, but the idea of losing the small moments of sitting at the cafe, as well as sitting on top of him, still made her sad. She didn’t want to lose him, and her control of him. It was obvious Andres was falling for her, and if she could have as beautiful of a man as he was near her whenever she wanted, she would keep him until the end of times. The only problem was that they were from different worlds, and if he knew that, nothing less than pointing a gun at his head would keep him near her.
Jules unfastened the buttons of his shirt slowly, one by one, savouring the anticipation in Andres’ eyes with every movement. The soft sound of fabric parting from the body filled the room as she peeled the shirt open and revealed the skin beneath. When she had met Andres, she hadn’t thought he was a man who had tattoos, as he had covered them completely. Later, she had learned he did that for his job, but seeing them every time when she pulled the shirt away from his shoulders felt like an additional reward. The pictures with bold outlines covered his arms all the way to his elbows, some of them continuing lower, but when he wore a shirt, no one would’ve known they were there. On their first night together at his apartment Jules had gone through every single one of them, tracing her fingers between them as she had tried to memorise them all. She had never learned all of them, so it was still like a surprise each time.
“Lost in your thoughts again?” Andres asked.
“Just trying to find the fish,” she answered.
“It’s on the other arm,” he said and turned his body. “And it’s a trout, not any fish.”
“I apologise for my lack of general fish knowledge and promise to do better in the future.”
“No doubt about that, Ms Jules. However, isn’t it tiring to be up there with all of your clothes?”
It took an effort from Jules not to stick her tongue out as an answer. Whatever she wanted to say was too late anyway, as she felt hands on her sides and knew what was to come. In seconds, her shirt was on the ground and she was lying on the bed, watching Andres tossing his shirt to accompany hers. Jules’ heart beat fast, and she felt how her body wanted more. It felt like her body wanted to scream, as if it was on fire.
One after another, their clothes found themselves on the floor, and more of their skin pressed against each other. His hands trailed from her collarbones to her shoulders and sides, like counting all the small freckles on her skin. For Jules, it felt like the only thing keeping her body in place was Andres’ weight on her, and she thanked him in her mind for that.
“You’re full of surprises,” Andres said. “There is always more of you I don’t know yet.”
His lips trailed down her neck, and small moans left her lips. He had learned that if there was a simple way to get voices out of her, it was that. On their first time, she had even apologised to her for being so loud, only to be told that it only made her prettier.
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Jules whispered back.
Andres’ lips moved lower, leaving small kisses on his way. His stubble brushed against her skin, but as his lips met the skin of her chest, that became irrelevant. Jules didn’t know whether she should put her hands on his body or hold them on top of her head, as he kissed her breast, only to play with her nipple just moments later. She felt his hand on the other breast as his mouth played with one, licking the tip of the nipple before taking it gently between his teeth. The slight pressure sent Jules to another plane of existence, as her body grew more impatient and wanting more. It didn’t matter how wet she already was. What she had learned was that Andres would take his time with her, no matter how it made her ache. His hand moved lower, playing with her other nipple as his mouth still caressed the one, and the only thing Jules could do was to moan and whisper his name, as it mixed with pleas and begs for him to continue.
“I know you have a tough week ahead of you, so just relax and let me do the work,” Andres whispered. “A good girl like you has deserved it.”
Jules hated how easily a couple of small words could make her want him so badly. If he had known, he would’ve probably laughed at how easy she was to please.
“If that’s the case…” Jules started but found it hard to finish a sentence, “Keep going until I tell you to stop. Be as good for me as I am for you.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.”
“Then why are you still talking? There are more important things for your mouth to do.”
When feeling like even the slightest touch would drive her crazy, Jules was proud of how convincing she had sounded. It was a good thing that she had, because as Andres moved even lower, and she felt his fingertip against her inner thigh, she knew the words just became immensely more difficult. His finger moved against her slit, and she didn’t have to look to know how badly her body wanted him.
Andres’ fingers were quickly replaced by his tongue as he moved down and buried his face between Jules’ legs. When she felt him dragging his tongue in slow motions, like savouring her taste, she didn’t know what to do or say. He felt good, almost too good. He had learned how to make her muscles tense, her body respond and what he needed to do to make her sing the sweetest sounds as Jules dug her fingers into his hair and pushed his face deeper. She felt the tip of his nose against her skin, the tongue moving and lazily drawing circles to her inner walls, and how his breathing was deep and full of need.
“Don’t stop,” Jules commanded. “Don’t you dare to stop.”
If that was the best Jules could say, she was afraid of whether she could walk to her apartment at the end of the evening. However, as Andres kept going, like he was having his last meal, Jules couldn’t think of anything but how he made her body tremble under his touch. Time and time again, he brought her closer to the edge, only to pull back just when she was getting there. It was both cruel and felt too good at the same time. Just as Jules thought he couldn’t do more, his fingers moved back, touching her dripping wet slit and drawing the string of wetness from between her legs.
“I told you not to stop,” Jules said.
“Keep that pretty mouth of yours open and look at me,” Andres answered as he rose to sit.
Jules’ legs rested on both sides of him, and she couldn’t take her eyes off him. His face looked like a mess, but it was obvious that he didn’t seem to care. Andres’ fingers touched her lower lip, and she tasted herself on his fingers. Without thinking, her tongue moved along the length, cleaning up every spot and savouring her own taste.
“Such a needy girl. Tell me what you want,” Andres said and moved his fingers in her mouth.
Something in those words, and feeling the fingers in her mouth, made Jules see stars. She reached down, barely reaching Andres, only able to touch his hard cock when she moved down, causing his fingers to dig deeper into her mouth. Andres’ face was kind, but also teasing as he leaned down so his cock pressed against her.
“Can you use your words? I want to hear your voice, sweetie,” he asked and pulled his fingers out of her mouth.
“You don’t make it easy. But I want nothing more than to have you,” Jules answered.
While she couldn’t see it, she knew her eyes were hazy and full of lust as Andres pressed against her, parting her so slowly she wanted to tell him not to torture her. Her body had learned how he felt, how his cock stretched her ever so slightly and made her feel full, but in a way which was not uncomfortable but something she wanted more and more after each time. She wanted to learn his rhythm, how he started with short, slow movements that grew bolder with each passing minute.
She loved to feel how Andres’ cock reached the deepest parts of her, and how his fingers brushed her cheek as his thumb got circled by her tongue. With each thrust, she thought Andres couldn’t give her more, and with each one, he proved her wrong. If Jules could choose, the moment would never end, and she would stay right where she was until the end of times.
“I won’t…” Andres said. “I can’t for long.”
Jules smiled and thought of how beautiful the man pressing against her was. It was a shame she could never be fully honest with him.
“You feel so good,” she whispered as an answer.
It was the truth she could give to him. If nothing else, she could give him that, and at that moment, it was the only truth that mattered. Jules felt how Andres’ cock pulsed inside her, stretched her more than before, and drove her to her limits as the warmth filled her. Her vision blurred as she went over the edge, thinking of how good he could make her feel. Her body didn’t want to let go of him. Just for a moment or two, she wanted to stay there against him and feel his body joining hers.
As Andres laid down, Jules wrapped her arms around him. Just for a moment longer, she wanted to feel him. If her world would come crashing down in the upcoming week, this was a memory she wanted to return to.
“Do you really have to go? I could make us breakfast, even pancakes if you stayed,” Andres asked.
Jules rolled around so her back was against Andres’ chest, and his arms wrapped around her waist. His fingertips brushed against the soft skin of her stomach and his breathing felt warm against her ear. It was too painful to look at him, as he could be Jules’ last memory of normalcy.
“I’m so sorry. Next week, we can have both pancakes and avocado toast,” Jules answered.
That was the sweetest lie she had told to Andres. There was no certainty of pancakes or avocado toast, but she wanted to make him believe that there was nothing to worry about. The less he knew, the better chance there was for them to see each other again, and eat breakfast the whole morning while getting drowned in each other's eyes.
“Promise to text me, even if you’re busy,” Andres said.
Jules held back her tears so she could answer. “I promise. Whenever I can.”
She would stay in his embrace for a moment longer, just to get one last reminder of his heartbeat before giving him one last sweet kiss and leaving for the late evening.