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After they'd found their saboteur and dispersed the mob, Knox went to spread the word not to be too hard on Maeve—because there had to be a path back into good standing, no matter the crime, and everyone needed to know that. Mechanical believed in redemption. Mechanical believed in their people. There was no way to unify the silo against the current leadership if it seemed like the critics were just as bad. Knox was determined to make that distinction fucking sharp.
He talked to enough of their hopeless gossips to ensure the word would spread, then started home. But at the intersection that led to his place, he paused. He'd asked Shirley a question, back in the control room.
He wanted an answer.
As he moved through the corridors toward her place, nodding to everyone who passed, it weighed on him. There were all kinds of acceptable answers to, Are you gonna tell me why you kissed me? He'd expected Shirley to offer one of the obvious ones—it was the adrenaline of almost dying, it was the thrill of beating the raiders, it was the alcohol, it was a moment and moments passed. They could've laughed it off and moved the fuck on, no harm.
Except Shirley hadn't said any of that. No, instead she'd turned it around on him. Saying he'd kissed her—as if Knox would ever do that, given his longstanding policy of never hitting on any of his crew. Knox wasn't even offended by the lie, really. It was transparently absurd. Anyone who heard that would laugh.
It was more what it said about Shirley. Because when Shirley got backed into a corner, her move was to attack, always. It was why you couldn't go straight at her when she was in that sort of mood. Giving her a direct order was like daring her to do the opposite. No, to handle Shirley you had to get her onside and then talk her around. Knox knew that, had known it for years, and had fucked it up enough recently to reinforce the lesson.
So the fact that she'd answered his question with an attack...that said something. It meant she felt cornered. It meant the kiss wasn't the adrenaline or the thrill or the alcohol. It was something else. And that he needed to understand.
As Knox moved deeper into the living areas, more people around at night, he considered. He'd known Shirley forever. Literally, he couldn't remember a time when she wasn't a part of his life. It wasn't like with Jules, who'd showed up from the Mids one day, all sad-eyed teenage determination. No, Shirley was born and bred in the Down Deep, just like Knox. They'd grown up together, gotten in shit together, figured their shit out together, and settled into leading roles in Mechanical together. At no point in any of that had Shirley looked at him twice.
And really, he appreciated that. Knox was very vocal about his don't shit where you eat policy. It wasn't technically a rule—because the silo had enough goddamn rules, they didn't need any more—but it was strongly-encouraged advice that Knox was grateful the others followed. It was hard enough keeping the damn generator online; he didn't need to add people's personal shit to the mix.
Knox was fucking glad when Shirley had started picking up Supply guys and Recycling guys and even porters, riding them to oblivion, and then cutting them loose a few weeks later. That was a totally acceptable way to fuck around, even if it did leave a string of young men dazed and starry-eyed and unable to comprehend the whirlwind that had just hit them. It had only become a problem when those guys found each other and started comparing notes, sparking a few too many rumors about Shirley's sex life for Knox's liking.
Ten thousand people sounded like a lot until you remembered that everyone was stuck together in a tin can for eternity within a rigidly-stratified society. It meant that everybody in the Down Deep knew everybody else and got way too into other people's business. So when someone had the balls to ask Knox, hey, did you hear about Shirley?, and then proceeded to tell him shit about her sex life—that she'd throw you down and ride you to within an inch of your life, but you'd never even get your pants off and good luck getting her naked—Knox had to shut that down.
It'd taken him three days to trace it back to the Supply guy who'd started it all by being a gossipy fuck with a porter. The dude—Riley, even his name was douchey—had been a complete asshole, so Knox had gone to McLain about it because he respected going through the proper channels. Only Riley hadn't liked that, so it all ended with Knox kicking his ass in the cafeteria and shouting about having some goddamn respect. On the upside, that had gotten the message across to everyone.
The downside was that his stealth mission was blown to hell and even Shirley heard about it, approaching him with an unimpressed look. "You gonna beat up all my boyfriends?"
He'd just glared at her. "Only the assholes. So stop fucking assholes already."
She'd just laughed and punched his shoulder and they'd moved on. Because that was how they rolled. Knox had never heard any more shit talk from the guys Shirley picked up. And he had no idea what she got up to with the girls she took home. Girls were more sensible, he thought. They understood discretion.
Shirley had never treated Knox as anything other than a friend, a brother, a trusted colleague, and he'd returned the favor. So it was somewhat confusing that she had up and kissed him, out of nowhere. But worse than that...he hadn't even hesitated to kiss her back. He'd gone from zero to fuck yeah, we're doing this without even a pause. Sure, it was the adrenaline and the thrill and the drinking, but Knox had the sinking feeling that it was also from some shit he hadn't let himself think about.
Like how she was fucking gorgeous, even covered in sweat and grease and dirt. Maybe more so because of it.
Like how he knew everything about her and she still stunned him with her ideas. She didn't think things through, and that drove him fucking crazy, but she was also brilliant and clever and downright devious in a way that never failed to knock him over.
Like how Knox actually enjoyed that she was prickly, that she would fucking cut you if you crossed her, because he knew that she was just protecting the softness underneath.
As Knox rounded the corner into Shirley's corridor, he shook his head. It was a hell of a thing to learn something about yourself after literal decades. But that was Shirley for you—all kinds of inspiration.
Still, they were on a dangerous path with Bernard. Rebellion hadn't ended well for Mechanical last time—or any other time, if his theory was correct. If they were headed for the confrontation that Knox suspected they were, he didn't want to leave anything...unresolved.
Which was why he found himself knocking at her door late at night, leaning up against the frame and waiting.
Shirley opened it sooner than he expected. She'd lost her red jacket, clad in a dark red tank and work pants. Her brown skin was clear of the usual grit of the day, but it was the lack of boots that clinched it. If her boots were off, that meant she was in for the night, so Knox didn't feel too bad about interrupting.
She seemed to have other ideas, though. She shot him a hard look and said, "Yeah?" in a way that really meant fuck you for pushing this.
Shirley's tones spoke volumes.
Knox just smiled a little. Prickly already, that sure said something. But he didn't comment. Instead, he played it dry: "On my way home it occurred to me that I didn't get an answer to my question."
Shirley's brown eyes narrowed dangerously. "And what question didn't you get an answer to?"
"Want me to ask again?" he asked, casually looking over his shoulder, highlighting the people coming and going in the corridor behind him, clocking them as they passed. He was the head of Mechanical; she was his right hand. People paid attention to them.
Shirley yanked open the door. "Inside."
Knox smiled. "Thought you'd see it my way."
He stepped inside her place—the typical arrangement for the Down Deep, a table and chairs in the center of the space, sink beside, sleeping area beyond. Machine parts sat on the counter beside mason jars filled with dried fruits and bottles of hooch, some of them covered in bits of delicate red fabric, like someone had woven them decorative cozies, just to brighten up the place. The idea made Knox inexplicably fond.
Then Shirley closed the door and glared at him. "We already had this conversation."
"You dodged this conversation," he said, shooting her a come on look.
She flared her hands in something like frustration. "Why are you making it a big deal?"
"Because it's a big deal," he shot back. "To me," he added, softer.
She stared at him like she had no idea what to say to that...and then she hardened. Getting mad again. "You act like it was just me. But we both know you weren't exactly fighting me off."
"True," he agreed, easy.
She made a go on sort of gesture. "And?"
"And nothing. I hadn't thought on it, but once you raised the idea, I was game."
"You're game?" she asked, disbelief all over her tone, like it wasn't that simple.
"Shirl, I'll follow wherever you lead, even if sometimes I have different ideas about how to get there." He leaned back against her table, making sure to keep his posture open, waving a hand at her in invitation. "So come on, we can figure anything out. Tell me what you were thinking."
"I wasn't thinking," she snapped.
"You're always thinking," he disagreed, gentle. "A quality I greatly admire."
That got another of those wide-eyed looks. But then she shook it off, crossing her arms over her chest. Defensive now. "We jumped over the rail and fell twelve levels and didn't die. We had the fucking raiders running like scared rats. You called me twice the mechanic you'll ever be. You listened to my ideas and then put them in motion. I just—I wanted to be closer to you. I don't know," she said, something helpless in it now, like she didn't understand it herself.
Ah, shit. Some of that was on him. "I'm sorry," he said, genuine. "I spend so much time corralling the fuckups and rallying the depressed that appreciation falls through the cracks. But know that I know you're always on it and I can always count on you. Of course I listen, Shirl, you're a fucking genius."
Shirley blinked, like she never expected that. "No, that's Jules."
Knox tipped his head. "Jules was her own kinda genius, no doubt. And look, she took up a lot of space. I know our arguing sucked up all the air sometimes, but don't think I don't notice what you do. You're the one who knows everything about everything. You had to school Jules on the damn generator, her own area of expertise. Can you imagine what would've happened if we'd turned it off thinking she had an hour to work when she had less than half that? We'd probably all be dead. You're a genius and essential and I'm sorry I don't say that more."
And now Shirley really was speechless, staring at him like she had no idea what was happening.
Knox sighed and moved to her, slow enough that she could back away if she wanted. She didn't, which he took as encouragement, stepping in and wrapping her in a hug. She was stiff against him...and then she relaxed into it, her body going loose and heavy, slumping into his hold. "Maybe I should give more compliments," he said into her hair, low. "It keeps you from sassing me."
"Don't count on it," she shot back, but it was halting. Even so, her arms came around him, resting on his back, Shirley leaning against him, making no move to get away.
Contentment rushed through Knox as he held her close, liking the feel of her against him. Like this, he could rest his chin on the top of her head; she fit so perfectly there. "I don't want to push. If you want to forget about the kiss, we forget about it," he said, soft. He didn't really want that, but if it was what she needed from him, then so be it. He did all kinds of things he didn't want to do; if it was for Shirley, it'd be worth it.
She sucked in a hitching breath that he could feel, then looked up. "I don't want to—can I just—" Then she made some frustrated kind of noise, abandoned that thought, and leaned up to kiss him.
The first time, Knox had been shocked, racing to catch up to the reality of her mouth on his, her arms around him, her body pressing close. This time he wasn't, so he could keep his head about the whole thing, cupping her cheek and slowing the kiss down, sliding his mouth over hers carefully, enjoying the heat it stirred in him. She was warm and soft in his arms, tilting her head to kiss him back, Knox learning the feel of her lips, desire waking up inside him.
Shirley opened her mouth—because of course she did—and Knox took full advantage, dipping his tongue in, brushing hers lightly, before retreating, just a tease. Shirley made some small noise and chased after it, gripping the back of his neck as she kissed him harder. He ran a hand up her spine as she explored his mouth, quick and fiery, his desire sharpening at her aggression.
Like that, it went hot, Knox thrusting his tongue into her mouth, his cock stiffening at her taste, at the way she sagged against him, one hand gripping his shoulder like she needed to hang on. And Shirley didn't need anyone or anything; the idea of it sent a rush of lust clear through him.
Shirley tore her mouth away, panting, lips already a little puffy. But she stayed close, her chest heaving against his as she stared at him. Because that wasn't the adrenaline or the thrill or the alcohol and it certainly wasn't the kiss of a friend, brother, colleague. That was a kiss of longing.
Finally, she sucked in a sharp breath. "I want you to take me to bed and make me feel alive," she said, voice dark and raspy. "We'll figure out the rest later."
Knox's cock actually twitched. "Yes, ma'am." With that, he took her mouth, trading fiery kisses that she met with equal intensity, his lust rising with the press of their mouths. She wanted this. At least, for a time.
He shook himself and kept on kissing her as he backed her up, already formulating a plan. Knox had an idea how she wanted this to go, but he had no intention of getting ridden and promptly kicked out, cock still swinging in the breeze. So he needed to be careful with her, to find a way to make it work for both of them. After all, you couldn't go straight at Shirley; you had to get her onside and then bring her around.
When her ass hit the counter, Shirley startled, breaking the kiss to look down, even as Knox reached around her to turn on the water. She looked back up at him as he soaped his hands and scrubbed, holding her gaze the whole time.
"Washing your hands? Really?" she asked, dry.
Knox smirked. "Well, I plan on using them," he drawled, thick with implication as he shut off the water and reached for a nearby towel.
Shirley kissed him as he dried off, damn near trying to climb up him, her hands wandering, quick and arousing. She found skin as she hustled him back toward the bed, Knox hissing at the feel of her fingers exploring his abs and chest, pushing his black shirt up and off. She tossed it aside with a hot little smirk, then shoved him—
Knox landed on the bed with a soft exhale, his cock protesting the confines of his pants, though he promptly got distracted by Shirley climbing on top of him, perching on his thighs and leaning down for his mouth. She raked her fingers through his beard as they kissed, Knox nipping at her bottom lip in response.
Shirley laughed, kissing him again, and Knox let his hands wander, learning the feel of her. She shifted over his thighs, turned on, and he tugged at her tank, pushing it up when she leaned back and gave him access, stripping it off, instantly forgotten. It left her in one of those black stretchy bras she wore, the lights highlighting the hollows of her collarbones, making her seem delicate. Knox's hands seemed huge and ungainly as he trailed them up the soft insides of her arms, liking the contrast of their skin tones. He traced all the way up, moving to cup her face, kissing her solemnly. "You're beautiful," he murmured.
She scoffed against his mouth. "Sweet talking," she mocked, kissing him harder, dropping her hands to his belt.
Knox's cock pulsed at that, deft fingers making quick work of the belt, then his pants, sinking in to palm the length of him. Fire rushed through him at the touch, Knox moaning into her mouth as she gripped him tight and stroked, freeing him from the confines of his pants, thank god, pleasure pulsing in time with her hand, matching his racing heart.
Fuck, he needed to get some control here.
"Ready for me, I like that," she muttered into his mouth. She bit his bottom lip, sending a bolt straight through him—
And then her hand was gone, and she was gone, up and off him, standing and working at her own pants. It left Knox sitting on her bed, shirtless and cock out, reeling, only able to stare at her as she shimmied out of her pants and underwear at once. She kicked those away, dark hair between her legs, only her black bra left on, then climbed back on top of him, relish in her face.
She gripped his chin and kissed him forcefully, Knox's hands landing on her hips, stroking the soft skin. He pressed one between her legs, carding through the dark hair there down to where she was wet, silky and hot for him. She moaned at the touch, pressing against his fingers, and Knox echoed it, turned on at how turned on she was, already. "Been thinking about this?" he rasped, pressing two fingers lightly to her entrance.
"Since I opened the door," she moaned, bearing down on his fingers, which slipped in easily. God, she felt good, slippery and ready.
"Enough," she said, pushing his hand away, shifting over him and taking hold of his cock.
Knox gasped at the streak of fire that sent through him. "What—"
But she was already sinking onto him, a high noise caught in her throat as she slid all the way down, seating herself with a satisfied groan.
White heat rushed through him, his vision blanking for an instant at the head rush of yes, somehow totally unexpected. His body screamed at him to move, but Shirley was already on it, levering herself up and sinking back down, sending bliss careening wildly through him as she moaned, her face slack with pleasure.
The feel of it and the visual combined to short out something in his brain, Knox's fingers gripping her hips tight, even as Shirley fucked herself onto him, relentless and determined. All he could do was hold on and watch, eyes drifting from her face to where his cock disappeared inside her, his whole body riding the rush of ecstasy, tingling in his spine, his balls, his fucking feet.
Dimly, Knox's brain came back online: what was it those guys had said? She'd ride you within an inch of your life but you wouldn't get your pants off? Check and check, he realized, gritting his teeth and clawing back some control. He'd had a plan here, one that had gotten thoroughly derailed by the feel of her, but he could still salvage it. Maybe.
He swayed forward, lifting one hand to her jaw and bringing their mouths together. The kiss was open and lush, Shirley offering a little breathless moan of pleasure when she shoved herself onto him harder.
Knox groaned and tried to think. "Do I get to participate here?" he finally ground out against her neck, mouthing his way down.
She tilted her head to give him better access, panting out, "As long as I get what I want."
He laughed against her neck, then bit the juncture between neck and shoulder, getting a gasp from her and a harder thrust down. He groaned at that, fire lighting up his spine, though he ruthlessly quashed it, grasping onto his control. He'd need it for what he had planned.
With some effort, Knox detached a hand from her hip, slipping it between them to touch her. She gasped when he spread her folds, then again when he found her clit, stroking over it lightly. "Fuck," she growled, speeding up. "Fine, yes, participate, knock yourself out," she panted, words tumbling out, helpless and sex-drenched.
Knox laughed again, touching her delicately, pulling back from her neck to watch her face. She was heavy-lidded and glistening, her mouth bruised, the picture of debauchery. He kept touching her, feather light, making her lose her focus with every swipe, her body starting to clench around him as she got closer. Shirley grunted and gripped his shoulder tight—the uninjured one, thankfully—chasing her pleasure.
He gritted his teeth against the feel of it, locking himself down. "I'm gonna make you come now," he informed her evenly, leaning in to bite at her jaw as he firmed his touch. He worked her clit the way she liked, but with slightly more pressure—
Shirley choked on air and made a helpless, mewling kind of noise, shuddering as her body clamped down on him, rhythmically pulsing around him as she came and came, Knox never stopping his fingers against her, watching her completely fall apart. And this was where experience—and age, frankly—helped. In his younger days, the feel of her gripping around his cock like this would be enough to make him absolutely lose it. As it was, he hung onto his control by inches, panting harshly as he walked right up to the edge...and didn't let himself go over.
Blissed out on the pleasure of it, Shirley slowed, reaching down to brush his hand away, too much. But she leaned in to kiss him, her mouth lazy with satisfaction, tongue curling against his languidly. That done, she levered herself off him—
Knox gasped, actually going lightheaded at the feel of it, still hard and desperate to come—
He gripped the blanket beside him as Shirley tipped herself over, flopping down, boneless and panting. She apparently hadn't noticed that he hadn't come...but then, he had been distracting her.
Knox just breathed through the ache of it, staving off the yearning need to find some friction and move, tipping onto his side and curling over himself. Beside him, Shirley was on her back, her breath slowing, eyes closed. He could kind of understand it now, those other guys. If this glorious creature looked over at him and said, thanks for the ride, get the fuck out, he might be a little miffed, too.
The difference was, Knox wasn't about to let it play out like that.
Once the desperate need to come had receded enough, Knox pushed himself up, then reached for his boots, Shirley still riding the afterglow. He got the laces undone and kicked his boots off, then rolled over to her, being careful not to rub his still-very-hard cock against anything. He wanted to come tonight and it wasn't gonna be against her fucking bed.
When his mouth landed on her hip, Shirley sucked in a breath and checked back in. She opened her eyes, frowning a little as she looked down at him—
Which got derailed as she took him in, eyes widening at his cock. "Did you not come?" she asked, surprised.
"I'm not done yet," he muttered, nipping at the thin skin over her hipbone, making her jump. He sent a hand wandering, teasing up the inside of her thigh.
"But—what?" she asked, then gasped as he moved his hand all the way up, teasing her entrance, where she was so very wet. "Ah!" She moved her hips into his hand, shivering at the touch, even as she said, "I'm very—"
Sensitive, he read, kissing his way across her lower belly, so soft. He scratched his fingers through her pubic hair lightly, murmuring, "Trust me," against her skin. He looked up at her, actually seeing her weigh it—
And then she spread her legs for him. He grinned, sucking a kiss to her belly, then rolled between her legs. His cock swayed with the move, but he ignored it, leaning down to breathe her in, the scent of sex heady and distracting. He carefully parted her folds, getting a look—wet and aroused, her clit exposed, damn right she was sensitive. He leaned in and breathed out over her, Shirley shivering at the feel of it. He followed that up with the lightest lick just under her clit—
A hand grabbed the hair at the top of his head—it was too short on the sides, to be fair—and gripped. Knox pulled back to check on her. "You all right?"
Shirley just watched him with glittering eyes. "Let's see what you got."
Knox grinned and dipped his head. He started slow, the softest little laps over her, tracing around her clit, nothing too hard or too fast, just enough to ease her into it. She tasted incredible—nothing compared to the taste of a woman's desire—Knox moaning against her, his cock pulsing between his legs. After a bit of the teasing, Shirley started to move against him, the hand in his hair trying to guide. He bucked back against it, letting her know that wouldn't be happening, then resettling his mouth on her, making her gasp.
While he learned what she like, he traced his hands all over her skin, teasing the soft place where hip met thigh, trailing all the way up to touch the edge of her bra, then back down again. Eventually she was moving so much he had to hold her hips down so he could flick light little licks over her clit, Shirley making a noise that sounded suspiciously like a sob.
Knox pulled back to look up at her, her skin shiny with sweat, eyes glazed, expression like she was seeing the infinite. Satisfaction slid through him; he loved driving a woman out of her mind with pleasure.
"What do ya think, Shirl?" he rumbled, hearing how used his voice sounded.
She focused on him, expression so open it almost hurt. "Please," she said, half-desperate.
It shot straight through him, lust flaring again. His poor neglected cock twitched, Knox gritting his teeth against it. Right. There was teasing and then there was torment and he had no intention of slipping over that line.
He sat back, pushing off the bed so he could carefully ease off his pants and then kick them away. Then he crawled back onto the bed, pausing to wipe his face on the sheet—he was a mess, she was all over him—before kissing his way up her body, Shirley moving restlessly underneath him.
When he kissed his way up her stomach, he toyed with the edge of her bra, wondering. Shirley looked down at him, something thoughtful in her expression, underneath all the lust. "Yeah, I think," she finally said, then shifted up and lifted her arms.
Knox blinked at it, but didn't argue, rolling the bra up and off, leaving nothing between them. He made sure to keep his eyes on hers, leaning down to kiss her solemnly. Only then did he let a hand drift down, palming her breast, her nipple hard.
Shirley scratched a hand along his jaw, then traced the tattoo along his neck. "You taste like me," she muttered, licking over his bottom lip.
"You're welcome," he drawled, smirking at her and then dropping his mouth to her chin, her neck, kissing his way down her chest to suck a nipple lightly into his mouth. She shuddered underneath him, arching her body into his, and Knox kissed his way to the other side, letting fingers tease the nipple he left behind. He scraped his teeth lightly over her breast, Shirley shivering at the attentions.
Her hand closed over his cock and squeezed, making Knox gasp against her breast, panting a little as his control cracked at the unexpected stimulation. "Fuck," he said, looking up, thrusting into her hand against his will, fully hard again.
"Yes, let's," she agreed, squeezing him to make the point, not that she fucking needed to.
"All right, all right." Knox groaned and brushed her hand aside. He shifted up, positioning himself at her entrance, and then unceremoniously sank into her.
Shirley gasped, Knox groaning at the feel of her silky heat enveloping him. He stilled when he seated himself fully, intending to catch his breath, but she wrapped a leg around him and muttered, "Come on," and that was it for going slow.
Knox snapped his hips into hers, fucking her deep and forceful, shifting angles slightly until he found one that made her gasp and dig her nails into his biceps, her own hips lifting against his. So he thrust into her like that over and over again, pleasure zinging up and down his spine. He braced himself over her, leaning down to kiss her and mutter praise into her skin as she moaned his name. Sweat mingled between them, making everything slicker and hotter, Knox feeling the orgasm gathering in his balls. He pressed his fingers between them again, touching her as she liked as he fucked her just right until she sobbed out a yes and came again, her body gripping him tight—
And then he was flying, like he was escaping the damn silo and scattering to the endless sky. Black spots danced in his vision as he came in hot pulses, hips jerking into her, his rhythm going to shit as he lost it, completely undone by the white-hot rush of pleasure.
Knox panted as he gathered himself, Shirley's body still pulsing around him in the wake of her orgasm—the most glorious feeling, nothing like it. Too soon he started to soften, so he tapped her leg to release him. She did, making a small noise as he slid out of her, and Knox collapsed to her side, fucked out, his heart pounding.
He was gonna need a minute.
They stayed like that for longer than a minute, their breaths loud in the silence, both coming down from the high. When his body started to cool, Knox curled on his side and took her in, sprawled on her back, completely naked, skin glistening with sweat. She looked downright luminous, boneless and well-fucked. Knox let himself feel a curl of pride at sight of it. He'd done that.
After a moment, Shirley snorted, still staring at the ceiling. "Well, your reputation is earned."
Knox made an interested noise, a little teasing. "My reputation, you say."
She turned to meet his gaze, reciting from memory: "Generous, attentive, and kind." But there was a detachment to it, a kind of distance rising in her eyes.
He pushed his hand toward her, but didn't touch, more the implication of the thing. "I always appreciate the connection, but it's different, you and me."
Something flickered in her expression. "Yeah?" she said, cautious.
"It's like, you're in here," he said, tapping his chest, trying to figure out how to put this in words. "Like you're a piece of me, but you're outside of me. And it's okay because I still have you close and you're all sparky and brilliant and infuriating."
Her eyes went soft again and she bridged the distance between them, scooting close, over his outstretched arm, pressing one hand to his chest. Her brow furrowed as she thought about it, Knox wrapping his bottom arm around to cradle her, just light. Finally, she met his eyes again, open to him. "Yeah," she agreed, low. "That's why I kissed you, I think. It was like...I don't know. Coming home."
Knox felt that clench in his chest, the rightness of it slipping through him, like he was falling again, but knew he'd land this time. "Exactly. But it's bigger than just this," he said, gesturing to the bed, their bodies close. "It's bigger than the wanting. That's part of it, but not all of it, not the guts of it." Wait, shit. "And that sounds like I don't care about the sex, which is not true. I would just like to be clear, the sex is incredible. I would very much like to stay in this bed for the rest of my life and find out how many ways I can make you moan my name."
She huffed a laugh, leaning in to kiss him, light. "Oh, yeah?" she asked, a sultry note to it.
"Uh-huh," he said, a little dumbly. "I kinda wish I was 20 right now so I could fuck you again, in fact."
Shirley pulled back, watching him with something like fondness. "When you were 20, the vibration of the generator kept making you come in your pants."
"Asshole," he shot back, laughing. "You said you'd never mention that again."
"I lied," she said, leaning in to kiss him.
Knox kissed her back, scratching his fingers through the short hairs at the base of her skull, reveling in having her so soft and open against him. He pulled out of it to nuzzle her cheek, cradling her jaw, stroking the skin there. He watched her as he got back to his point: "I just—I fucking love you, you know?"
Shirley blinked, her eyes filling with emotion. Idly, Knox wondered if anyone had ever said that to her and meant it. He hoped so. But if not, he was glad he got the chance to.
Finally, she swallowed and found her voice: "I fucking hate you."
He huffed a laugh, because that wasn't even close to what she meant, but it was classic fucking Shirley. "Yeah," he agreed, easy. "Isn't it great?"
She reached up to grip the back of his neck, pulling his mouth to hers, the kiss fierce and consuming, like she was trying to crawl inside him through his mouth. Knox just gave himself over to it, stroking a hand down her naked back, marveling that he got to have this. This one perfect moment.
When Shirley pulled away from the kiss, she was shaking a little, so Knox just wrapped her up again, letting her press her forehead to his chest and stay there a while. That was fine. He'd happily hold her like this as long as she'd allow. He dragged the sheet over them both so she didn't get cold and just hung on.
After long moments, she sighed and sank into him, like all the tension in her drained away. Knox was glad for it, floating in a kind of blissful haze. Not quite asleep, but not awake, either, suspended in some kind of in-between state, where nothing could touch them.
***
What seemed like ages later, Shirley stirred, rubbing her face into his chest, coming back to herself. Knox just stroked her back, feeling the indentations of her spine, the unfortunate realities of their situation rising up again.
They needed to talk.
"What you said earlier, about having a backup plan. You're right," he said, pressing his palm to her back, feeling her heart beat, strong and steady.
"Usually am," she mumbled against his chest.
"Eh," he said with a smile, knowing she'd hear it.
She did, smacking him lightly, making him grin. But then he shook it off, because this next part wasn't even a little funny. "I've been thinking about it. If we can't get the others with us, if shit goes sideways and I somehow get taken out—strung up outside Judicial, sent out to clean, whatever—you need to take over Mechanical."
Shirley went absolutely rigid against him, pushing back to look at him incredulously. "If you get strung up outside Judicial, I'll be swinging right next to you," she said, like he was a fucking idiot.
He shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not."
She shook her head, like he made no sense. "How's that even a question?"
"I'm the head of Mechanical in a time of rebellion," he said, heavy. They both knew the head of Mechanical was the first one executed; there was no other possible end for him. "And Jules was my shadow. Not you."
Shirley stared at him, working it out. "If you're planning to sacrifice yourself for me—for anyone—you can fucking stop."
"If I get the chance, of course I fucking will and you're gonna let me," he snapped back. This was why they needed to talk it out. Because if Shirley got all hot-headed about it, it would all go to hell.
She shot him a mutinous look. "Like hell I will."
Knox sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Shirl," he said, weighty. "There's ten thousand people we gotta think of."
"Fuck that. We've been doing that. If they want to take us out, they can run the fucking generator themselves. See how long they last."
"If there were a way to take out just those at the top, I'd be all for it, but there isn't. In this, it's either all of us or none of us."
"Yeah, well then maybe the silo shouldn't exist," she muttered, dark.
Knox sighed. Now she was just being stubborn. So he switched tracks: "You ever held a fresh baby?"
Shirley looked at him askance. "I don't have the maternal instinct."
Well, that wasn't true at all, but there was no need to pick that fight, so Knox moved on. "Lizzie and Ronny had their baby last week, did you hear?" Off her nod, he continued: "I went to visit the day she was born, give Lizzie her first drink, all that. So I got to hold the baby. She's just this tiny blob, all instinct, doesn't even have a name because those two dipshits can't figure themselves out. She didn't ask to be here. She didn't ask to die just because the assholes up top don't want to treat us like people."
"I didn't ask to be here," Shirley shot back, hot.
"Yeah, well, none of us did, but we're what we got. We're the ones keeping this place going, so it's up to us to decide. And I think we shouldn't let ten thousand people die out of spite."
Shirley huffed, her way of acceding to his point, though she wouldn't say the words. "This is how those assholes win, you know. Because they know we won't actually let everybody die."
"Yeah," he said, because there was no arguing with that. "But if we did, what kind of win would that be?"
She shot him a disgruntled look, but didn't argue.
Knox reached out and slung a hand over her hip, nudging her a little. "If it goes sideways, you let me do what I need to do. And you take over Mechanical."
Her expression flickered as she really thought about it, now that she was past her anger. "I'm no leader."
"Sure, you are. You been leading this whole time."
"Not like you. With the grand speeches," she said, almost sulky.
"You think I started there? I had to figure it out, just like anybody. The key is that up top they treat us like things, like the generator rotor blades, just part of the machine. But if you treat 'em like people, they'll follow you forever."
Shirley watched him, dark eyes intense. "You're talking like we've already lost."
Knox inclined his head. "Maybe we'll do what no one else could. I hope so." Then he smiled a little, a thought occurring to him: "We got you, anyway. That puts us one up on all the other times."
Something vulnerable flashed across Shirley's face, then she moved back to him, pressing herself close, cheek to his chest. Knox draped an arm over her, pulling her in, thrilled that he even could. "Sometimes I think about the before times," she said, running light fingers over the tattoo on his arm, sending a shiver of sensation through him. "How people could do whatever they wanted. What would that be like? To choose your life."
He swallowed against the melancholy of it. "None of us asked for this, but it's what we got, so we make do," he said, making sure it stayed sympathetic. Because he agreed with her, but what use was thinking like that? It changed nothing.
Shirley nodded and sighed. She looked up at him, reaching up to run her fingers over the lines in his forehead, more every year. "If there's some impossible sequence of events where you die and I don't, I'll run Mechanical."
Knox smiled, scratching through the short hair around her ear. "Thank you." If it came to that, it would be a relief to know that everyone was in good hands. And it would give her something to focus on, beyond her grief and anger.
Shirley leaned into his hand, enjoying the touch. "I still say it doesn't matter. I've been right out in front with you. Don't see how they ignore that."
He grinned. "Well, now I can say I seduced you into it."
"Hey, I seduced you, asshole," she shot back, vaguely insulted.
"Oh, so now you admit it," he drawled, teasing.
"The best ideas are always mine."
"Eh," he said, echoing himself from earlier.
Shirley smiled, shaking her head at him like she couldn't help it. Nothing but affection in her eyes, a hell of a thing.
He cupped her cheek, marveling at the press of their skin, the tingling that swept through him at such a simple touch. "It's weird. I've known you my whole life and I still feel like I want more time." Because time was getting short, he knew. Their fight would come to a head soon and then everything would be different. He hoped he lived to see what that looked like.
But he doubted it.
Shirley pressed her face into his hand, closing her eyes. "Yeah," she said, rough. Then she opened them, eyes gleaming at him. "But since we have no say over that, we should enjoy the time we've got."
Knox smiled and pulled her in. "All the best ideas," he muttered against her mouth.
She smiled back. "I've been saying."
They stopped talking after that.
***
Fin. Feedback is adored.