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Summary:

Gem goes to a wedding in another province and meets someone unexpectedly familiar.

Notes:

I giggled while writing 99% of this. I had the time of my life and I hope you guys enjoy! I need to put these guys in more awkward situations.

 

Spoiler that will make sense when you see it: it's based on a rumor and I will ignore questions about it.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

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“Is this seat taken?” Gem asks, voice low as she leans down to get the stranger’s attention.

The woman — with gray hair and a kind-seeming round face — turns, glancing down at the chair Gem’s gesturing at before smiling.

“It’s all yours if you want it,” she agrees and Gem sends out a silent thanks to the universe for making her life easy.

Gem's not the best in social situations and weddings somehow always seem worse. But now she has a seat for the ceremony, near the back of the room, and her struggles are over — at least until the reception.

“Thank you,” Gem replies, meaning it, and she carefully tucks the skirt of her dress under herself as she sits, ankles automatically crossing, hands folding in her lap atop her clutch.

She lets out a breath and reminds herself it’s just for one night, just a couple of hours to suffer through and then it’ll be over.

“Which one is yours?” the stranger asks, and Gem glances over in surprise.

But it seems only fair that the cost of the seat is small-talk.

“The bride,” she answers easily. “We went to school together. You?”

“The groom,” the stranger says with a nod. “Part of the extended family.”

Gem offers a smile, glancing back up at the front of the room, where said groom stands, clearly nervous, clearly excited.

“I'm Eleanor,” the woman — Eleanor — says, offering Gem a hand, and Gem subtly wipes her clammy palm on her skirt before reaching out to take it.

She gives it a light shake. “Taylor.”

“And this is my son.”

She sits back, gesturing to the man beside her that Gem hadn't noticed before.

He's clearly older than Gem, with brown hair and pale eyes, a little stubble. Kind of plain.

Said son spares Gem a glance, and then does one of the most comedic double-takes Gem's ever seen. She has to bite back a laugh, watching in fascination as a flush spreads across his cheeks.

She doesn't recognize him, and he’s definitely older than her typical demographic, but she can't help but wonder if maybe he's a fan. Maybe he watches her videos on YouTube.

She isn't recognized often, but it's always one hell of an ego boost when she is.

“Nice to meet you,” she says politely, offering a smile, and the man doesn't say a word, doesn’t even look her in the eyes as he nods in acknowledgement.

He reaches up, fidgeting with his tie, and Gem feels delighted and kind of powerful.

“Did you have to travel far?” Eleanor asks, not seeming to notice anything amiss, and Gem lets her attention shift back to her, leaving Eleanor’s son to suffer in silence.

“Newfoundland,” Gem tells her, watching as the woman’s expression shifts in surprise.

“Good lord,” she exhales, making Gem laugh. “It was a ten minute drive for us.”

“That would’ve been much easier,” Gem agrees and Eleanor offers her a smile.

“The things we do for love.”

Gem gestures vaguely at the room around them, because the extravagance alone says enough, and Eleanor laughs in understanding.

“It’s always worth it,” she says, and Gem hopes she’s right, because it’s already required a lot of time and money.

In the background, quiet music begins to play and Gem glances back toward the doorway, seeing movement as the wedding party starts to get ready for the ceremony.

“I hope you’re able to enjoy your time here,” Eleanor says quietly, pressing a hand to Gem’s knee, bringing Gem’s attention back to her. “Alberta's beautiful this time of year.”

Gem nods with a smile, and when she focuses her gaze over Eleanor’s shoulder, Eleanor’s son is watching her, though his eyes drop the second he notices.

“I’m sure I will,” she agrees, smile widening, before letting the ceremony pull her in.

*

Gem plans to escape to the bar after the ceremony ends, though it's thwarted the second she shuffles into the aisle, straight into Eleanor’s waiting grasp.

“Have you met the groom's side of the family?” she asks and Gem blinks at her in surprise.

She can't quite keep the confusion from her voice when she replies, “No?”

Which is how Gem suddenly finds herself on a first name basis with the groom's mom, sister, and great-grandma.

“This is Daniel's cousin, Maggie,” Eleanor tells her less than a minute later. “And that's her husband Steven, and their two children, Garret and Tom.”

Gem has no idea who Daniel is, has no hope in hell of remembering who anyone is, but she offers the family a wave.

“Nice to meet you,” she says, and when her gaze shifts, Eleanor’s son catches her eye, the corner of his mouth shifting as though he knows exactly how his mom gets at weddings.

At least she's not alone.

“They own a floral business,” Eleanor says as Maggie and her family escape, their youngest announcing he needs the bathroom. “We're a family of green thumbs. What about you?”

“Uh,” Gem says intelligently. “I don't have a yard, but I grew tomatoes last year that were pretty good.”

Eleanor smiles. “I meant your job.”

“Oh,” Gem flushes. “I, uh, make content online.”

“On YouTube?” Eleanor asks and Gem freezes.

It's not the follow up question she'd expected to get from someone Eleanor’s age. Next to them, her son shifts from one foot to the other, and he glances in the direction of the bar.

He's got the right idea and his escape seems imminent.

“Yeah,” Gem continues. “Mostly YouTube.”

“Daniel has a little channel on there,” she says, gesturing at her son, and at least now Gem’s figured out who Daniel is. “He has a few followers — sorry, subscribers. He's always having to remind me.”

She laughs, and when Gem looks at Daniel, he's pale and seems to be willing the floor to open up under him.

Gem bites back a smile, wondering if the guy has a dozen subscribers at best, one of which might be Eleanor herself. And now she's embarrassing him in front of someone he knows is successful enough to do it full time.

“What kind of content do you make for your channel?” she asks, refusing to be the only person suffering at this wedding.

Daniel blinks at her, mouth slightly open like he can't decide if he wants to answer or vomit on her shoes. Gem's smile breaks free as she waits, almost finding herself leaning toward him expectantly.

“Eleanor?” a voice asks, drawing all three of their attentions, and there's suddenly a whirlwind of hugging — yet another gaggle of family members that Gem will no doubt be introduced to — and the moment breaks.

Daniel sees his exit and flees.

It's actually enough to make Gem laugh, watching as his long legs carry him away before his mom even realizes. He's heading in the direction of the bar and he doesn't look back.

Maybe a few drinks will loosen him up enough to admit to her that he's a fan. Or maybe he'll leave the reception before dinner's even served and she'll have a fun story to tell her friends when she's back.

It doesn't change the fact that she's still trapped, destined to meet every single person at a wedding where the only person she really knows is the bride.

Maybe she should have tried to run too.

“Taylor?” Eleanor says, gently touching Gem's arm. “This is Susan.”

Gem drags her attention back, a smile plastered on her face.

“Hi, Susan,” she says. “It's nice to meet you.”

*

Gem escapes, barely. At some point, Eleanor gets pulled away for photos, and Gem's left to finally make her way to the bar.

There's a line now, three people deep, but there's a familiar set of broad shoulders in front of her. Apparently it's been long enough that Daniel’s already back for another drink.

“That bad, huh?” she asks, and Daniel flinches, turning abruptly and glancing down at her. He doesn't say anything, just has the same slightly panicked look on his face. “This is the best part about weddings.”

He follows her gesture toward the bottles behind the bar and he looks back at her, still silent.

His horror doesn't seem as much fun now that she's socially tired. She kinda just wants someone to talk to.

“It's okay if you know who I am,” she starts before the silence can get more awkward. “I won't out you as a Minecraft fan in front of your family.”

She shoots him a wink to show she's just joking and his brows raise, mouth falling open.

His expression doesn’t change and Gem has a moment of panic as she wonders if maybe he's not actually a fan. Maybe he knows her in real life and she's forgetting his face.

“Do I know you?” she tries instead, and somehow his expression gets worse.

“Sir?” a voice asks from behind them, and Gem realizes the line has cleared and Daniel is next. “Sir, what can I get you?”

Daniel blinks at her a moment longer before turning and stepping closer to the bartender to place his order, voice too low for Gem to hear with the dull murmurs of other people in the room.

But the bartender sets a bottle of beer on the counter and Daniel pays and grabs it with a nod of thanks.

For just a second, as he turns, he pauses as though about to finally say something to her, but then he's brushing past and heading for the safety of other people.

Gem sighs, knowing she can only do so much. She watches him for a second longer and then steps up to the bar.

“Can I get a white wine?” she asks. “In the largest glass you've got.”

*

With only a few canapes to line her stomach, the alcohol speedruns its way to her bladder and Gem migrates from her quiet corner to the bathroom.

She’s still shaking water off her hands when she steps out, finding her route blocked by someone waiting in the hallway.

She glances up, stomach sinking when she realizes who it is, realizes he must’ve watched her go in and waited for her.

Gem swallows, suddenly nervous.

“Daniel,” she says and his expression goes complicated.

He slips his hands into his pockets and can’t seem to hold her gaze, instead glances left and then right as though scouting for anyone who might overhear.

“Please don’t yell, Gem,” he says, and Gem’s first reaction is to wonder why she’d yell.

Her second reaction is to wonder why he’s calling her Gem and why he —

“What the fuck?”

She frowns, body going tense, because for some reason, this random man from Alberta — who’s accompanying his mom, who’s apparently called Daniel, who’s got approximately four million family members at this wedding — sounds exactly like Etho.

Gem blinks at him and then blinks again, her mind full of white noise.

She takes him in — properly this time — paying attention to the sharpness of his jaw, the shape of his nose, the hairline that’s receding in a way that hints it runs in the family.

Her first assessment of him doesn’t change — he’s plain. But now it feels fitting. It feels right that the one and only Etho is just some guy. An unremarkable man, who just wants a quiet life.

You,” she starts, and she feels like a kettle, slowly starting to boil, starting to whistle with built up pressure, and she gets it now why Etho would tell her not to yell.

Because she really kind of wants to yell.

She lowers her voice to a harsh whisper. “What the fuck?”

He takes a step back, as though expecting her to fight him instead, like he’s not half a foot taller than her and broad enough to fill the narrow hallway.

“You never said anything,” she starts, her train of thought shifting midway through. “You let me believe you were someone else.”

She watches the bobbing of his throat as he swallows.

“Why bother saying something now?” she asks and has to consciously relax her grip on her clutch before she crushes her phone.

“I didn’t want you to think I was ignoring you.”

His voice is almost exactly the same as it is when she hears him on the server. The same lilt to his words, his tone easy. It’s familiar in a way that unsettles her. She can’t reconcile the fact that she has no idea who the man in front of her is, but she knows every part of his voice.

If she made him laugh right now, she knows exactly what he would sound like.

His expression shifts, like he’s begging for mercy. His most vulnerable moment having someone from his online life recognize him, and Gem has no idea what to do.

She takes a breath and then another, and then lets out a manic chirp of laughter.

“You made me meet your entire extended family.”

“I didn’t — ” he starts, bringing a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. “My mom — ”

Which is when Gem remembers that she’s on casual speaking terms with the one and only EthosLab’s mom.

She covers her face with her hands, groaning quietly, and when she eventually drops them back down, Etho looks a little less terrified.

“Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t want to cause a scene out there.”

Gem imagines them having this conversation at the bar, with people around to see her mental breakdown.

She thinks about how it might’ve gone if he’d spoken to her before the ceremony. She probably would’ve bolted, hopped on the first flight home, and pretended the whole thing never happened.

At least with a glass of wine inside her now, she feels a little steadier, a little less like she might collapse.

“This is insane,” she says, and his expression suggests it's an understatement.

She lets out another laugh, remembering his expression when they'd first been introduced.

“How surprised were you to see me?” she continues, and then immediately remembers her assumptions. “Oh my god, I thought you were a fan.”

“I am,” Etho laughs, overwhelmingly gracious, and Gem hides her face with her hands again.

“I thought you were some nobody with a YouTube channel.”

“Depends who you ask,” he replies and she drops her hands with a harsh exhale.

“What the fuck,” she says again, this time softer, and he watches her quietly, maybe finally letting himself take her in.

His gaze dances around her face, and she wonders if there's anything he's noticing about her for the first time.

“Hi, Etho,” she says eventually, and finds herself offering one hand, because she supposes if they've got a whole night of this ahead, they should start at the beginning.

He tilts his head, clearly amused, but takes her hand in his and shakes firmly. “Hi, Gem.”

He lets her go and Gem belatedly worries if he's judging her for having clammy hands. She thinks all things considered, maybe it's the least of her worries.

“I can't believe you're real,” Gem jokes, or tries to, because her voice isn't as strong as she'd prefer.

“Flesh and blood,” he confirms, and Gem watches him for a moment before getting distracted by the sound of footsteps.

“Excuse me,” a voice says, and when Gem looks over, she recognizes the woman trying to scoot past them.

She's one of the bridesmaids — or maybe even the maid of honor. Gem thinks her name is Tammy.

Gem eases to the side, Etho stepping close enough to her that she can feel the heat of his body and it all seems surreal.

Tammy steps around them with a nod of thanks, and Gem thinks that now there's less chance of her yelling at him, maybe they should move their conversation elsewhere.

“We could — ” Gem points in the direction of the reception and Etho offers her a strange kind of smile.

“I need to — ” he admits, pointing at the bathrooms behind her, and Gem realizes she's made another mistake.

He was never outside the bathroom to corner her, he was there to relieve himself, saw an opportunity, and ran with it.

“Sure,” she gets out in a rush. “Of course.”

She stares a moment longer.

“I'll find you,” he says and Gem's stomach flips at the thought that he wants to hang out with her for longer. He's not making up an excuse to hide from her.

“Sure,” she repeats and finds herself shooting him a smile that's perhaps a little too soft for a man she doesn't actually know.

But he smiles back and Gem forces herself to turn away before he can see the worst of her blush.

*

Gem returns to the reception in time to see people starting to gravitate toward the tables for dinner, and as much as she wants to spend more time with Etho, she knows to go with the flow.

He can find her later.

Her name card seems so unassuming with her real name on it, but she's been placed at a table near the back that she's almost certain is for singles and misfit friends.

There’s a couple seated to her right, and they offer her polite smiles as she sits down. Across the table is an older man, but the two spaces to her left are open.

She pulls out her phone, taking a moment to reply to a few texts and DMs, half wondering if there's anyone she might be able to tell about her experience.

She startles when an arm reaches over her shoulder, setting a new glass of wine beside her place setting, and when she looks up, her stomach swoops.

Etho’s pulling out the chair beside her, his mom settling into the one next to him.

“Best part of any wedding,” he murmurs quietly, just for her, and she stares at the glass as though willing her brain to make sense of it.

He bought her a drink. The Etho bought her a drink.

“Thank you,” she gets out, immediately reaching for it and taking a deep swallow.

It settles warmly in her stomach. At least, she thinks it's the drink.

He has another bottle of IPA for himself, the label of it already picked at, and she wonders if he’s feeling the same kind of nervousness that’s buzzing through her.

She sets her glass back down and spares him a glance, his mouth twitching in response — almost a smile.

“Same table, huh?” she asks, and she thinks she has to expand their categories now — singles, misfit friends, and miscellaneous family members.

For just a second, she lets her gaze drop to his hands, wondering if maybe he fits into two of those groups. There's no ring on his finger, and she feels caught when he flexes his hand and drops it into his lap instead.

“What are the chances?” he says, and his smile finally breaks through, broad and a little more buck toothed than she'd ever imagined.

“Didn't think this was how my night would go,” she admits, fiddling with the edge of the tablecloth just for something to do with her hands.

She's sitting next to Etho.

When she draws in a deep breath, she can smell his cologne. When he shifts, his knee brushes against hers under the table.

It's all so overwhelming.

And on top of everything, when her gaze drops, she realizes his name card is right there in front of him.

His real name — first and last.

When she looks back up, he's watching her silently, taking in her reaction, and she feels a blush start to spread across her face.

“I won’t tell anyone,” she says quickly. “About any of this.”

For just a second, his eyes drop to her own name card, and she supposes they're both learning new things.

He offers her another smile, reaching for his beer.

“It's fine,” he tells her before taking a swig. “No one would believe you anyway.”

The laugh Gem lets out is too loud, too sharp, and she covers her mouth with her hand as the other occupants of the table stare over at them.

He swallows another mouthful of beer, smiling around the lip of the bottle, and when he finally sets his drink back down and laughs, it’s so familiar, it takes her breath away.

“That's not — ” she starts, wanting to say that's not funny, but that would be a lie because she's still fighting back her giggles. “You’re even worse than you are online.”

The look he shoots her zips all the way down to her toes, and she feels off balance by the easy way he jokes.

She already thought he had too much charisma for his own good. It’s dangerous now that she doesn’t have a screen to hide behind.

She reaches for her glass of wine again, taking another drink, knowing that at this rate, she’ll run out before dinner is even served. It’s all starting to go to her head too, which means a greater chance of making a fool of herself in front of him. Or more of a fool.

“It's worse that you might be right,” Gem says eventually and Etho shrugs.

“Guess it depends who you told. Bdubs would believe it.”

Gem smiles. “He knows you, huh?”

His shrug is vague. “He'd know it’s too funny to be made up.”

“It would make him laugh — your worst nightmare coming true.”

“Not the worst,” he admits, sipping at his beer again, but doesn't explain, and Gem's thoughts race at what he might mean.

Maybe he's thought about meeting her. Maybe he wanted to meet her.

She looks away, thankful when she notices meals being brought out to the tables near them. Soon she'll have the excuse of a full mouth to stay silent.

“You're shorter than I thought you'd be,” he says, setting down his drink, and it's so him — out of nowhere, unapologetically honest, zero tact.

Gem lets out a laugh, brows raised. “Maybe you're taller than you realize.”

He doesn't have an answer for that and when he picks at the label on his beer bottle, she's almost certain it's a nervous tick now.

“You're taller than Skizz,” she offers and he looks over in interest.

“I am?”

She nods, immediately distracted when servers finally make it to their table.

She'd requested beef when she'd sent back her RSVP, and the plate she's given has a few cuts of meat, veggies, and garlic mash.

Dropping her napkin into her lap, she grabs her knife and fork and starts to cut into it.

“I thought you'd be a vegetarian,” Etho says, a plate of chicken in front of himself, and Gem takes a bite of food, chewing slowly as she watches him watch her.

“Why would you think that?”

“Thought you liked animals.”

Gem snorts, loading up her next forkful of food.

“I like the way they taste, too,” she jokes. “What else have you assumed about me?”

That seems to catch him off guard, because he stares down at his plate, cheeks going slightly ruddy.

“You do it about me all the time,” he says, and Gem's stomach jolts from the truth of it.

They're always guessing and assuming things about how Etho is in real life.

She swallows carefully. “Sorry.”

He looks up, seeming surprised by the apology. “That's not — I don't care. We just don't really know each other.”

And there he goes being right again. She supposes assumptions are only natural when people don't know a thing about one another.

She lets the silence sit for a couple of mouthfuls before asking, “What would you like to know?”

That gets his attention.

He stares at her, chewing slowly and then swallowing.

“Do you go to every wedding alone?”

It's so beyond the realm of what Gem thought he would ask that she finds herself needing to cover her surprise. She takes a drink of her wine, thoughts racing on why he'd be curious about that of all things.

“It depends. My mom said no when I tried to invite her as my plus one,” she jokes and Etho's eyes widen for a second before narrowing.

“We were both invited,” he says, voice low, clearly not wanting to be overheard, though Eleanor seems to be invested in her own conversation, and Gem laughs easily.

“I didn't have anyone to invite to this one,” she tells him, because it's easier than saying she's currently single and Etho can read between the lines.

“It's a long way to come alone.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, offering a crooked smile. “Maybe that’s why the universe gave me you tonight.”

Etho snorts. “You don’t think that’s a punishment instead? Like being kicked while you’re down?”

“Doesn’t feel like it to me. I already got a free drink out of it.”

She takes a sip of her wine to make a point, catching his gaze, and he laughs like it’s startled out of him.

“Good to know,” he replies, watching her, and Gem waits a beat before returning to her meal.

The silence between them is less oppressive than before, and Gem for once doesn't feel the need to break it.

*

Some time after speeches and first dances are finished, Etho leans over toward his mom, murmuring something quietly before getting up.

Gem watches out of curiosity, almost startling when he rests a hand on the back of her chair and looks down at her.

“Another drink?” he asks, and Gem blinks, processing the words for a moment.

“That feels like a bribe after what I told you,” she says and Etho tilts his head.

“Maybe it is.”

His expression doesn’t waver, perfectly deadpan, and Gem finds herself grinning.

“Okay,” she agrees. “Thank you.”

He nods, disappearing in the direction of the bar, and Gem lets herself watch.

“You’ll have to ask him yourself,” a voice says to Gem’s left, and when Gem turns, Eleanor has one elbow on the table, leaning in her direction.

“I’m sorry?”

“If you want to dance,” Eleanor explains. “You’ll have to ask him yourself. He won’t do it.”

Gem laughs because that's the first thing she can think to do.

“I don't think we'll be dancing.”

“He'll say yes if you do.”

She doesn't think there's any universe where Etho would agree to dance with her, but she's sure Eleanor means well.

“I'll keep it in mind,” Gem says, because it's easier than arguing, and Eleanor smiles like she understands.

“Don’t let him intimidate you,” Eleanor says, pushing herself up from her chair. “He’s soft inside.”

Gem bites the inside of her cheek to stop herself from outright laughing. Instead, she nods, watching as Eleanor offers her a wink before heading away from their table, in the direction of a group of people chatting near the dance floor.

Gem lets out a belated snort, no longer able to hold it in as she wonders if asking Etho to dance would be worth the risk, just to see how he reacts.

When she looks over at the bar, Etho's easy to spot, almost a head taller than everyone else. He's next in line, but he's staring back at her with an unreadable expression. He glances away, caught, and Gem grins, knowing he's only human.

At least he's as curious about her as she is about him.

When Etho eventually returns, he has Gem's glass in one hand and a bottle of water in the other.

“Lightweight or designated driver?” Gem asks, immediately taking a sip of her wine, planning on riding her buzz as far as she can before the inevitable wine headache hits.

“The second one,” Etho grunts, sounding distracted as he looks across the room.

Gem wonders if he's searching for his mom and then immediately thinks of Winnie and her separation anxiety whenever Gem leaves the room. She has to cover her laugh with a cough.

“What did she say to you?” he asks, turning his attention back to her and Gem frowns.

“Who?”

“My mom.”

Etho was watching when Eleanor leaned over to talk to her.

Gem takes another sip of her drink, knowing she can't lie to him.

“She said if I wanted you to dance with me, I'd have to ask you myself.”

It seems to be the last thing Etho expects to hear, because his eyebrows shoot toward his hairline and he goes a little pink in the cheeks.

“You asked her how to — ?”

He stares at her as though reassessing, clearly jumping to some very serious conclusions about what would prompt his mom to say that, which has Gem going red with him.

“I didn’t say a thing,” Gem quickly tells him. “She gave that up voluntarily.”

Etho's expression shifts again, and Gem's fascinated by how much he gives away. Spending so much time behind a computer screen means he's not so good at hiding his reactions.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “She's — she enjoys interfering.”

Gem shrugs with one shoulder like it's nothing, even though her heart is racing. “She gave me good insider knowledge.”

Etho pauses. “Why? What else did she say?”

Gem traces the stem of her wine glass with one finger. “She said you'd say yes. Is that because you always do?”

She knows she’s implying too much when she knows so little about him, but Gem’s self control has never been good, even when she's sober.

He hesitates, maybe doesn't know how to word what he's about to say.

“People don’t — ” he starts eventually. “They don’t ask me.”

Gem barrels straight through her nervousness, into a bad life choice.

“Well, now I think I have to,” she says with a tilt of her head as she laughs.

She expects him to shoot her down immediately. To scoff at her for being ridiculous. To make up an excuse about how he doesn't dance.

But he doesn't.

He blinks at her and Gem suddenly gets the impression that his mom was right.

She feels her face turn redder and her mouth opens before she can stop it. “Dance with me.”

After all the teasing, it’s not even a question, and that feels right for them. On the server, they're always letting each other do things without actually asking first, and this doesn’t seem to be any different, because he nods.

He wants to dance with her.

Carefully, he pushes his chair back and Gem’s stomach swoops with anticipation as he stands up.

She gulps down the rest of her drink, knowing she’ll need it if she plans on surviving, but then she follows after him, smoothing down her dress and half wondering if he’ll notice if she bolts out of the room instead.

He leads her to a quiet corner of the dance floor, the music slow, more than a handful of other couples taking the opportunity to sway together, and Gem swallows thickly as he turns to face her.

Carefully, she sets a hand on his shoulder, knowing the heat of his skin through his shirt shouldn't be enough to make her knees weak. But there she is with weak knees anyway.

“Sorry,” Etho says as he steps into her hold, and she's not sure if it’s an apology for his mom getting them into this mess, or for slipping one hand down to her waist.

He feels huge against her and Gem inhales unsteadily, taking his other hand in her own and following his lead as he moves in time to the music.

And immediately steps on her foot.

“Sorry!” he repeats, and she lets out a quiet breath of pain, Etho shifting as though trying to step away, ready to immediately give up.

Gem holds tight to his shoulder and snorts.

“You don't get to escape that easily.”

He doesn't try to pull away again, but he stares at her for a long moment, seeming surprised.

“I didn't do that on purpose,” he tells her quietly and Gem smiles.

“I know, Etho.”

Something flickers in his expression, maybe a reflex to hearing her call him Etho in person, but his hand shifts on her waist and he clears his throat, picking up where he left off.

He’s more careful this time, shuffling his feet rather than lifting them, and Gem grins.

“You look nice,” he says after another pause, his tone stiff and awkward, and Gem laughs.

“Is that part two of your apology?” she asks. “Butter me up enough that I won’t tell the rest of the Hermits that we met and you tried to crush my toes?”

He looks at her aghast, probably panicking at the thought of her telling anyone they met.

“I’m trying to be polite,” he tells her, and Gem gives his shoulder a squeeze.

“Unclench,” she orders, which she knows is nothing but alcohol talking. “It’s me. You bully me on a regular basis just for fun.”

“I don't bully,” Etho insists and Gem hums quietly.

“What would you call it?” she asks and Etho frowns, the line of his brow deepening after a moment as he seems to realize he can't think up anything else.

“Rizz,” he says abruptly and Gem lets out a hiccup of laughter, leaning into him a little more.

“Razz,” she corrects, trying to stay composed, and Etho flushes, almost the same way he had when he'd recognized her.

“It’s different when it’s online,” he tries.

“Cause you don't have to look me in the eyes? Does that make it easier?”

Etho pauses, clearly collecting himself and Gem's grin widens.

“Did you just realize you’re an online bully?”

“You're just like you are on the server,” he says with a grunt and Gem quirks an eyebrow at him.

“Why would I be different in person?”

His hand shifts, settling into the small of her back, maybe unconsciously done, but it makes Gem’s breath catch.

“Things aren’t the same online, you know that.”

Gem does, she just likes making Etho’s life hard. But she takes pity and nods, offering him a smile.

“Well, I hope it’s not a bad thing,” she says, her gaze shifting to the collar of Etho's shirt, to the mole that's just above it, to the little patch of stubble by his jaw that's got one or two gray hairs.

“I thought I was the one addicted to fishing.”

Gem laughs loudly, pulling back enough to stare up at him in disbelief. She laughs again at how he’s clearly proud of himself for the joke, his mouth shifting as he fights back a smile.

“You’re exactly the same as you are online, too,” she says, and he knows it’s a barb, she can see it in his expression as he finally grins.

Gem scoffs, rolling her eyes playfully, and when she next looks up at him, his gaze drops to her mouth — just for a split second — but her whole perspective shifts.

Her stomach flips as she thinks about how he acts with her on the server. How she sometimes wonders if it's his attempt at flirting. How she’s wondering right now if he’s trying.

His hand flexes, fingers pressing against the line of her dress' zip, and she has a momentary vision of her dress on his bedroom floor and her naked in his bed.

She flushes hard, leaning closer to try to hide her reaction, and she shuts her eyes as his hand shifts higher, fingers grazing her skin.

She stays silent, her nose almost brushing his shoulder, and she’s never really thought about what he might smell like, but even that seems to suit him — clean, a little peppery, familiar in a way it shouldn’t be.

She moves her hand — the one on his shoulder — just enough for her thumb to brush the collar of his shirt, and she feels the way he inhales and lets it out slowly.

“How long are you in town?” he asks after a moment and Gem has to clear her throat to find her voice again.

“Until Monday,” she says with more regret than she'd had at the start of the night. “My flight's pretty early.”

She thinks if she had the courage, she’d probably ask if he’d like to hang out tomorrow, just to get more time with him.

But she doesn't, and it falls quiet between them again.

It doesn’t feel as awkward this time, but Gem keeps her eyes closed, focusing on the way Etho’s thumb brushes back and forth across the thin strap of her dress.

When she turns her head and rests her cheek against his shoulder, she knows it’s because of that last glass of wine. But Etho doesn’t complain or try to move her. In fact, his grip on her tightens just a little more.

“What are your plans after this?” he asks, and there is absolutely no way he’s trying to proposition her, but Gem imagines it, basking in the feeling of his voice against the side of her face.

It’s deep and rumbling and she wants to fall asleep listening to it.

“I have a thing,” she gets out and he hums quietly.

“A thing.”

“A tradition-thing. Some of my friends — weddings always serve dinner too early,” she rambles, knowing she’s going to sound insane to him but continuing on anyway. “We always go somewhere for food after — burgers.”

Etho’s fingers brush the ends of her hair. “Two dinners.”

“We ate ages ago and this thing isn’t going to end until like midnight,” she points out. “It’s impossible not to be hungry after.”

He hums again. “Guess I don’t go to enough weddings to know.”

“Guess so.”

The song finally ends, shifting immediately into something upbeat, not at all fitting for their slow movements, but Etho doesn’t let her go and Gem stays right where she is.

He’s warm and real against her in a way she never in a million years would’ve imagined he’d ever be.

“What about you?” she asks, greedy for more from him — his personal life, his attention.

“I drove my mom here. I have to take her home.”

That puts pain to any fantasy Gem's had about him whisking her off to his house and blowing her mind in other ways. Not that there was ever a chance. But sometimes it's fun to dream.

His grip on her loosens, but Gem isn't ready to let him go. She wants to savor the moment as long as she can.

“Quiet Saturday night,” she says and he finally untangles them, taking a half step back to be able to look down at her.

“Something like that.”

She knows she's still blushing — she thinks it might be permanent now — and it gets worse when he smooths his hand up over her shoulder and down her arm.

It feels unfair that she'll never get more than this.

He squeezes her hand and opens his mouth. “We could — ”

“Tay?” a voice behind asks, startling Gem enough for her to fully pull away from Etho, her arms dropping back to her sides.

When she turns, Kira — the bride, the reason Gem's even there — stands beside her, smiling brightly.

Kira drags her into a hug, her fruity perfume clearing out what's left of Etho's scent.

“I didn't know if you'd actually make it out here,” Kira admits, letting her go. “I'm so glad you did! Is this your plus one?”

She glances at Etho and Gem imagines a world where he is. Where he's her date and she gets to introduce him as her better half or partner in crime while he humors her, a small smile on his face.

Instead, she has to shake her head.

“No,” she says, “we know each other from somewhere.”

Kira laughs, looking between them. “Small world, huh?”

It's an understatement.

“Yeah,” Gem agrees, and she can’t bring herself to break Etho’s stare.

“Tay, can I steal you away to introduce you to my husband?”

She giggles as she says it, clearly getting used to the word husband, and Etho tips his head in an unspoken question, silently asking if she’s going to leave him.

But she can't say no. She came all this way for Kira, not Etho.

“Sure,” Gem agrees, even though her whole brain screams in protest, and she finally blinks, glancing away.

“I promise you’ll get her back,” Kira says to Etho, which makes Gem’s flush worse, and she can’t bring herself to look over at him.

“Sounds good,” he responds with a soft laugh, and Gem's helpless to leave him behind as Kira leads her away without another word.

*

Gem gets caught for longer than she expects, their conversation spiraling once they start — too much to catch up on. Which means she has a moment of panic when she looks up and realizes the room is emptier than before.

More than a quarter of the guests seem to have left already, and her stomach sinks at the thought of Etho leaving without saying goodbye.

She makes her way back to the table they’d been sitting at — now completely empty — and she wonders how deranged she’d be if she slipped his name card into her purse as a keepsake.

“Hey,” a voice says, and Gem’s hope rises as she turns.

“You’re still here.”

She doesn’t bother trying to hide the relief from her voice and Etho offers her a smile and a nod.

“Still here,” he agrees before his expression shifts. “But my mom — ”

Gem immediately loses that hope.

“Oh,” she says, realizing that he found her just to say goodbye, and Etho nods again.

“She’s ready to leave.”

It's not fair. Gem thought she'd have more time with him.

“Right,” she agrees. “Sure.”

“I had fun,” he says, and Gem can’t help but think it feels like the end of a date.

“Me too,” she says. “Unexpected, but fun.”

Etho nods, slipping a hand into his pocket and she can hear his car keys jingling.

“I guess I'll see you back on the server?”

“Yeah,” she agrees, and on a whim opens her arms, inviting a hug that he surprisingly accepts. Without hesitation, he dips down to pull her closer.

She can’t believe it’s the second time that night she’s had her head on his shoulder. He smells just as nice as before and she curls her arms around his waist.

“Take care,” he murmurs into her hair, and she lets out a quiet snort, tightening her grip on him.

“Are you outro-ing me?”

“Just because I say it a lot doesn’t mean I don’t mean it,” he says, squeezing her in return before letting her go.

When he steps back, she feels an inexplicable amount of sadness that she'll never get this again, but she forces a smile, which he mirrors.

“Drive safe,” she tells him, and he nods, staring at her a moment longer before turning away.

She watches him walk across the room, watches his mom join him, and then near the doorway, he turns to look back at her over his shoulder.

Her stomach swoops one last time as he offers her a small wave, and then just like that, he's gone.

*

Gem drowns her sorrows with another glass of wine. She’s not proud, but she finishes it quicker than she ought, knowing she should order a ride back to her hotel before she finds anyone single left in the room and tries to take them back with her instead.

But when she unlocks her phone to find her Uber app, she gets a new Discord DM notification with a familiar icon in the corner.

Did you leave already? Etho asks, and it's been long enough that Gem wonders if he’s sitting in his car in his mom’s driveway.

Not yet, she replies, quickly followed by, got one last drink for the road. Had to buy it myself tho :(

She watches the icon appear as Etho types and eventually his message comes through.

Still want that burger?

Gem grins down at her phone, not holding back when she sends, Yesssssss!!!!!!!!

Be there in 10.

It’s simple, to the point, and Gem’s excitement bubbles up, escaping her in a laugh.

She’s going to get more time with Etho.

She’s too antsy to sit and wait inside, instead she says goodnight to Kira and makes her way out into the parking lot.

It’s cool outside, the slight breeze feeling great against her alcohol-flushed face, and she has no idea what to expect, but almost exactly ten minutes after Etho’s message, a white truck pulls up.

He offers her a wave and Gem doesn’t hesitate before tugging open the passenger door and climbing in.

“Hey,” she says, settling her dress around her legs. “Did you realize you were hungry and I was right?”

He snorts softly. “Something like that.”

His truck smells like a mix of diesel, earth, and Etho, and it’s fairly clean inside, but his tie is stuffed in a nearby cup holder. The top couple of buttons of his shirt are now undone and Gem wants to get her mouth on his throat.

She focuses on fastening her seatbelt as Etho slips the truck into gear and starts driving them away.

“Is there a specific burger you want?” he asks, turning down the A/C as though concerned she might be too cold, but Gem almost feels too hot.

“You’re the one who knows the area,” she points out, and he glances over at her, nodding.

“There’s a pretty good place nearby. You’ll like it.”

Gem bites back her smile at the thought of Etho thinking he knows what she’ll like.

“Sure,” she agrees, and he takes a left turn out of the parking lot.

He drives carefully, maybe the way he normally is, or maybe just for her. She’ll never know.

The roads are empty — too late for normal people to be out — and there’s only one other car in the parking lot when Etho pulls into a space outside of the restaurant.

She thought there’d be a drive-thru option, to save going inside, and they’d eat in the truck, but Etho seems to have other plans.

He takes off his seatbelt and Gem follows his lead, climbing out, knowing they’re going to look ridiculous dressed up the way they are. But the only person inside is a bored-looking employee standing at the counter, ready to take their order.

Gem picks a cheeseburger with fries, and then adds a strawberry shake, a craving solely because she’s drunk.

Strangely, Etho doubles the order, minus onions in his burger, and then hands over enough cash to cover them both.

“I can — ” she starts, but he shakes his head, accepting the change and tucking it into his wallet.

“It’s fine,” he promises, but it’s starting to feel more and more like a date and Gem’s not sure how to stop herself from wanting it to be true.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, and the smile he shoots her makes it even worse.

It doesn’t take long to get their food and they find a table tucked in the corner, offering a little privacy, making it feel as though they’re the only ones in the building.

Gem groans when she takes the first bite of burger, laughing when Etho stares over at her.

“Wasn’t this the best idea ever?” she asks, mouth full, and Etho fumbles a couple of fries, but eventually nods.

“Pretty good,” he agrees, and under the table, he stretches out his long legs, knees nudging against hers.

She doesn’t complain, just soaks in the warmth from his body, moving one foot to tuck it behind his left heel.

He glances at her, seeming surprised by the casual touch, and she can’t meet his eye, just sips at her shake.

“What made you change your mind?” she asks, too curious for her own good, and Etho takes another mouthful before answering.

“Don’t know,” he says, his tone the same as someone who knows, but doesn’t want to answer, and there’s a flicker of hope in Gem’s chest.

“Guess you missed me already, huh?”

He doesn’t reply and Gem for once in her life doesn’t push, the moment too fragile, but she looks up, and when he catches her gaze, it's clear he knows she knows.

“Where are you staying?” he asks, and Gem's earlier fantasy — of her dress being on Etho's floor, her naked in his bed — shifts.

Instead, it's Etho's carefully ironed shirt crumpled on the floor of her hotel room and him naked in her bed.

She stuffs a couple of fries into her mouth, chewing silently as she collects herself.

“There’s a Holiday Inn,” she tells him eventually. “Somewhere.”

He lets out a breath of laughter and nods.

“I think I know the one. Right off the highway?”

It sounds right, so Gem nods, but she's still too distracted, and she's starting to worry she's going to fuck it all up.

“I'll drive you back after this,” he says and Gem feels the need to protest.

“I can get an Uber,” she tries.

“You want a stranger to drive you instead?”

She doesn't point out that they're still practically strangers in their own way. But Etho chews slowly, watching her, and Gem caves immediately.

“No,” she says quietly and he nods like it's settled, reaching for the last of his burger.

It’s bizarre — the whole night, but especially sitting and watching as he wipes at his mouth with a spare napkin, wanting to throw herself across the table to kiss him.

He glances up, but she knows he has no idea what’s going on in her mind. If he did, he’d be back in his truck, driving away already.

But then he goes a little pink, like maybe he’s worried about her knowing what’s in his mind.

Gem shoves her final few fries into her mouth and Etho picks up his shake, looking away.

The silence between them is heavy, but Gem finishes her food and stirs at what’s left of her shake with her straw.

“That was good,” she says, and he brushes salt off his fingers, dropping his trash on their shared tray.

“Done?” he asks, waiting for her nod before he starts to clear away her mess too.

He untangles their legs, much to Gem's disappointment, and goes to throw everything away in the nearest trash can.

Gem waits until he comes back before holding up her empty cup, biting back a smile at his expression.

“Are your legs broken?” he asks, but still takes it, crossing the restaurant once more to drop it in the trash, as Gem eventually pushes herself onto tired feet.

The good thing is that the food seems to have soaked up some of the alcohol, but it hasn't changed the fact she still wants to drag Etho off into the nearest dark corner.

“C’mon,” he grunts, setting a hand on her shoulder and turning her in the direction of the door.

If Gem had her way, they'd stay at that table for at least a couple more hours. But the employee at the front looks as though they're ready to start closing up.

He doesn't take his hand off her as they leave, and when he follows her around to the passenger side of the truck, Gem gets butterflies in her stomach at the thought of him wanting to be a gentleman and get her door.

“My arms aren't broken either,” she jokes. “I can get my own door.”

But he doesn't reach out for it. Instead, he hooks one hand into the curve of her waist and backs her up against the cool metal of the truck.

He stares down at her and Gem's heart starts thudding madly in her chest.

But it's like he can't figure out what to do now he has her there, because he doesn't move. Just stares.

“Sorry,” he says, blinking. “Sorry, I — ”

He starts to step away and Gem grabs the front of his shirt, refusing to let the moment pass.

With her other hand, she reaches up, fitting it against the slope of his shoulder, and she tugs hard enough that he stumbles, bracing himself with one palm on the window by her head.

Her hand immediately moves up the side of his throat to his jaw, guiding him to her mouth.

His lips are softer than she expects when they meet hers, and her body feels electrified by the contrasting rasp of his stubble when he turns his head just so.

Etho's kissing her. She's kissing Etho.

The hand on her waist moves, cupping the back of her head instead, his fingers tangled in her hair like he's worried she'll try to pull away before he's done.

But she doesn't plan on going anywhere.

She makes a soft noise, her lips parting, and Etho's definitely no gentleman when he takes advantage, licking into her mouth to deepen the kiss.

Her knees feel weak and she uses the truck behind to stay standing, trying to keep up with him.

She never thought he’d be this way. And it seems he never thought so either, because he quickly retreats, murmuring something against her mouth that's too muffled to hear, but she suspects is another apology.

Gem wants to make her intentions clear before he accidentally spooks himself.

She kisses him once, twice, and then draws back just enough to catch his gaze.

“Come back to my hotel,” she tells him, and he's nodding before she even finishes the sentence.

She pulls him in again, not needing more of an answer than that, but there's a buzz of nervousness under her skin. It bubbles out as a laugh, right against his mouth and now it's her turn to apologize.

“Sorry,” she hiccups, running her thumb over the stubble at the corner of his mouth. “This is just — crazy.”

She exhales in a rush and the next time he kisses her, she feels his smile.

She wants to feel that all over her body.

She drags herself away, knuckles aching where she's still holding onto his shirt for dear life.

“Get in the truck,” she orders, forcing herself to let him go, and he breathes against her for a moment before nodding and stepping back.

Her body feels colder without him pressed against her front, but it gives her space to think, to realize how batshit the situation is.

Etho's going to drive her to her hotel and then fuck her.

Gem presses a hand to her forehead, startling at the sound of the truck door shutting behind Etho, before she turns to follow his lead.

Etho's silent as he drives, nothing but quiet music from the radio to fill the space, but he keeps stealing glances, maybe imagining everything he wants to do to her.

The anticipation has Gem pressing her thighs together, and she wonders if he’s sitting beside her with a semi.

She has to turn to look out the window to collect herself.

Which is when she sees the handprint on the glass, from where he'd braced himself when she pulled him closer. Tangible proof that it happened. Proof that will stay there until the next rain or Etho washes his truck.

Gem shuts her eyes instead, taking a steadying breath.

“Okay?” he asks, misinterpreting her reaction, and Gem glances over.

He looks braced for bad news.

“Can you drive faster?” she asks and the surprise in his expression is clear.

He thought she'd changed her mind.

She's pretty sure he doesn't speed up, but he turns to stare ahead, no longer stealing glances, as though he knows it's too much of a temptation, and Gem grins at the side of his head.

He gets them to her hotel safely, and when he pulls into a parking space and kills the engine, it leaves them in complete silence as the radio cuts out.

“Is this the right place?” he asks, and the exterior is familiar enough that Gem's pretty confident it's where she’s been staying.

“Home away from home,” she jokes, taking off her seatbelt, and he's quick to follow.

Etho keeps his hands to himself when they get out, doesn't try anything in the elevator, and even lets her unlock the door without interfering. But he's on her the second the door swings shut behind them, hands impatient, like he's finally come to a decision about what he wants to do to her first.

He kisses her softly, fingers curled into the fabric of her dress, and Gem blindly kicks off her shoes, pressing herself against his front.

He goes easily when she leans her weight into him, encouraging him in the direction of her bed, and when she feels him hit the edge of it, she draws her mouth away.

“Sit,” she tells him, and he does.

It feels surreal to slip into his lap, the seam of her dress cracking in protest as she spreads her thighs around him. The material digs into her skin until she reaches down, hitching it up around her hips and giving herself room to move.

His hands smooth up her thighs, thumbs playing with the tops of her stockings, and he exhales shakily against her jaw.

“Okay?” she asks, mirroring his earlier question, giving him an out in case he needs it, but he nods.

“Yeah,” he agrees gently. “Just — you — it’s been a while.”

Gem wants to grill him, find out when he last brought someone home, but instead, she grinds down, not wanting him to think about anything but her.

“Gem,” he pleads, but she can feel how he’s starting to get hard beneath her, and the zip of his pants is perfect, rubbing against the gusset of her panties.

She presses her mouth close to his ear. “I've thought about this before,” she admits and that makes him worse.

He lets out a quiet noise that will live in her memory forever, and his hands wander up her back, his fingers tugging blindly at the zip of her dress.

“There's a clasp,” Gem tells him, trying her best to be a distraction, pressing kisses along his jaw. “At the top.”

She's not actually sure if he breaks it or finally manages to unfasten it, but it gives, cool air grazing her spine, one of his hands — hot and massive — smoothing down her skin.

She pulls back just enough to be able to ease the straps of her dress down, letting the fabric pool at her waist.

Etho makes another noise, eyes wide and focused on her chest where she's bare, seeming surprised that she's not wearing a bra underneath. He swallows, gaze jerking back up and Gem grins at him.

“You’re allowed to look,” she points out. “And touch.”

He moves slowly, as though expecting her to change her mind, but she doesn’t. She arches into his hand when he palms her gently, his thumb teasing around her nipple.

He’s careful with her, but she can feel him getting harder between her legs and it does wonders for her self-esteem. Her being topless is apparently enough for him, and she wonders if he’s ever thought about her like this before.

While he’s distracted, she moves her hands to the front of his shirt, working at the buttons in an attempt to make them even.

There’s a smattering of hair across his chest and there’s more bulk to his arms and shoulders than she expects, but he stops touching her just long enough to undo the cuffs of his shirt and pull it off.

She makes a noise of encouragement, setting her hands on his ribs and dipping down to get her mouth on his collarbone. She can’t get enough of how warm he is, how smooth his skin is, and she nips at him, enjoying the way it makes his breath hitch. She wonders if he’d let her pepper mouth-sized bruises across his body.

His fingers trace along her spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and when he reaches the bunched-up mess of her dress, he pushes as though there’s any way he can get it off her without her moving.

She smiles against his skin. “Need me to help?”

“How much do you like your dress?”

She outright laughs then, sitting up to stare at him. “Why? You thinking about ripping it off me?”

He silently tilts his head and Gem snorts, patting one hand against his chest.

“I’ll save you the effort.”

Carefully, she slips off of his lap onto legs that feel like jell-o, but with a little wiggling, she gets the dress down and off, leaving her in just her panties and stockings.

Etho stares openly, gaze slowly trailing down her body, taking her all in as he drags his palm across his lap. He clearly likes what he sees.

She reaches for her stockings, ready to roll each one down.

“Can you — ” Etho starts, voice breaking, and Gem pauses, glancing up. “Leave those on.”

It takes a moment for it to register, but then Gem finds herself grinning.

“You like them?” she asks, trailing her fingers across the lace tops, and the fact he can’t seem to drag his gaze away says enough.

Instead, she reaches for her underwear.

His stare finally shifts as she drags the cotton down and she can feel her face heat as she kicks the material away, leaving herself bare.

But Etho pushes himself to his feet, moving toward her with intent, a telltale crease in his pants from his erection.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, pulling her closer, one hand tucking down against the back of her thigh, right under the curve of her ass.

He kisses her, pulling her flush against him as Gem eases her hands between them to tug at his belt. She gets it open, somehow able to stay focused even with his fingers so close to where she wants them between her legs.

She already knows she’s wet — embarrassingly desperate from a lack of sex over the last year — and she’s definitely ready for Etho to do more than just stare at her. But she’s not sure she has the strength to tell him what she wants.

Instead, she works on the button and zipper of his pants, shoving at them after to make a point.

“Etho,” she pleads, and he thankfully doesn’t need to be told twice.

He pulls away, mouth wet and reddened, and as much as she wants to keep kissing him, she takes a moment to catch her breath, letting her gaze drop lower.

He looks obscene with his belt and pants hanging open, and the trail of hair leading down from his belly button, disappearing into his boxer-briefs, makes her want to drop to her knees.

But before she can think about moving, he steps back just far enough to be able to bend down to untie his laces and pull off his shoes. She watches greedily as he takes off the rest of his clothes, leaving it all puddled on the floor beside hers, and she still can’t quite wrap her mind around it all.

She's naked with Etho.

With a loose grip, he strokes himself, and she can see how wet he is at the tip, maybe as affected as her, which only seems fair.

She gravitates toward him, arms looping around his neck, and she drags him back down to her level for a kiss.

“How do you want me?” she asks against his mouth, and she feels the way he hesitates, sees his gaze going distant as though simultaneously imagining every possible answer.

“Uh,” he says, and Gem snorts quietly, kissing him again, unable to help herself.

“Go get yourself comfortable,” she tells him with a nudge, and that seems to be something he can do.

He settles himself on the bed, relaxing back against the headboard, giving Gem exactly what she wants.

It feels familiar to straddle him, but he’s so hot everywhere they touch now that it's skin on skin.

She cups his face with one hand, kissing him slowly, deeply, taking her time learning the way he shifts against her, how he's always tentative when he lets their tongues brush.

She’s not expecting the hand he slips between her legs, and she jerks forward as his fingertips graze her pussy, their foreheads knocking painfully.

Sorry,” he apologizes, starting to pull his hand away, but Gem doesn’t let him.

She grabs his wrist, holding him steady, and her head throbs, but not enough to deter her.

“Touch me,” she orders, and he obeys without fuss, his middle finger slipping inside her with hardly any effort.

“Oh,” he says, and Gem completely agrees.

She shuts her eyes, dropping her forehead down to his shoulder, unable to focus on anything but the way he fingers her.

He’s not confident, his movements slow as though half expecting to hurt her, but she doesn’t try to rush him.

“Okay?” he asks, and Gem barely remembers how to nod, still not lifting her head.

More.”

He’s good at following instructions, pushing another finger into her and letting them both sink in up to the knuckles.

He sets an easy pace, and she’s not sure how she’s going to survive when he actually fucks her. It already feels like too much. She kisses at his shoulder, shifting her hips to rock into his touch and losing her breath when he moves his thumb to press against her clit.

Etho,” she sighs, and the insane part is that she feels his cock twitch in reaction.

He might be taking her apart, but he’s not immune to how she feels and sounds.

Gem’s never found it easy to come during sex with other people. By herself, she knows exactly what she wants and how to get herself there. But she thinks it’s testament to how much she wants it that Etho has her barrelling toward the edge as though he does it regularly.

Even with the same steady speed of his fingers, she can hear how wet she’s getting and knows he must be aching to fuck her properly.

She turns her head to be able to kiss up along his throat until she reaches the hinge of his jaw, right below his ear.

“Do you want to feel me come around your fingers or your cock?” she asks, and her face burns even as she says it, but it has the desired effect on him.

Etho makes a desperate sound, his fingers faltering.

“I — ” he starts, and she knows he’ll never be able to ask for what he wants — can barely do that on the server when there’s nothing at stake.

She takes pity, reaching between her legs for his hand, holding him steady as she sits up, before easing his fingers out of her. For just a second, she thinks about bringing his fingers up to her mouth and sucking them clean. But she’s not sure he’s ready for that.

Instead, she lets him wipe them off on the sheets below as she reaches for his cock, giving him a gentle stroke just to see him shudder in response.

He stares between her legs when she shifts, lining him up and letting him nudge against the point where his fingers just were. But he never stops looking as she sinks down, taking him inch by inch, breathing through the feeling of him filling her.

Fuck,” she exhales when she settles in his lap, his cock as deep as she can get it, and his hands find her hips, gripping tight enough to ache.

She reaches down, playing with her clit, just because she can, because she knows he’s watching, and he shifts below her, as though barely holding back from fucking upwards.

“Do it,” she begs, grinding down on him, placing her free hand on his shoulder to steady herself.

She moves, starting to ride him the way she wants, and he rocks up unexpectedly, taking her breath away.

“Fuck,” she says again. “That’s good.”

He doesn’t say a word, but his jaw shifts as though he’s clenching his teeth and a flush starts to bloom across his chest.

She spreads her knees a little wider, giving him more room to buck upwards, and his strength takes her by surprise when he uses his hold on her hips to move her against him.

“Just like that, Etho,” she begs, and his grip tightens at the use of his name.

She can feel his desperation and knows he’s not alone. She’s already spiraling, fingers rubbing tight circles over her clit as he fills her again and again.

“Gonna come so quickly,” she warns, digging her nails into his shoulder, but Etho doesn’t even flinch.

“I want to feel,” he grits out, and it seems fitting that it’s the sound of his voice that sends her over the edge, so fast that it takes even her by surprise.

Etho,” she whines, leaning forward to tuck her head against his as she begins to tighten around his cock, orgasm unstoppable.

It hits harder than she expects, her whole brain whiting out, and she still can’t believe she gets to have him like this.

He moves faster, fully fucking up into her, and Gem’s not even sure she’s riding him — she’s just taking what he’s giving, and it might be one of the hottest things she’s ever experienced.

She knows she must be impossibly tight around him, and when her orgasm eases up enough for her to look at him, she can see the lines of tension in his face.

“C’mon, Etho,” she encourages, just in case he’s waiting for the go-ahead, and he shifts, his hands moving to the backs of her thighs instead, right at the lines of her stockings.

He shoves up into her maybe a half-dozen times before he follows her lead with a groan.

He keeps himself deep as he comes, holding her down on his hips, and she can feel the twitching of his cock — something she knows will haunt any future fantasies she has of him.

“Gem,” he pants, eyes screwed shut. “Gem.”

Gem lets him ride it out, aftershocks buzzing through her hips every time he rocks upward, and she’s not sure he even realizes he’s doing it, because he pulls at her as though trying to keep her still.

She moves her hand to the back of his neck, leaning in to kiss him, and he returns it carefully, like he’s realizing things are a little more complicated now.

“Sorry,” he apologizes against the corner of her mouth, and she has no idea what for, but he eases her up, off of his cock as though she’s weightless.

She’s a mess — there’s come dripping out of her, her own wetness is smeared up the insides of her thighs — but she couldn’t care less, slumping bonelessly against him.

“If I’d known you could make me come that hard, I would’ve hunted you down sooner,” she jokes against his shoulder, and from his rough exhale, she can tell it’s not what he’d expected her to say in the afterglow.

“Gem,” he chides, but there’s no heat behind it.

He smooths his hands along her back, warm and soothing, and she hums quietly.

“I should shower,” she laments, and he grunts in response, but neither of them try to move, and Gem’s not sure if it’s the jet lag, alcohol, fast food, or the thorough fucking that has her eyes falling shut against her better judgment.

But Etho doesn’t complain about the weight of her on him, or the stickiness that threatens to glue them together, and Gem doesn’t think she stands a chance as she starts to fade.

Between one brush of his palm and the next, she falls asleep.

*

Gem wakes briefly to the sensation of being rolled onto her side, of her stockings finally being pulled off, and a thick duvet being settled around her.

“You better not be sneaking out,” she grumbles, not opening her eyes, and the bed shifts as an arm settles around her waist, a huff of laughter brushing the back of her neck.

She’s not used to the feeling of being cuddled, but his voice is nothing but familiar.

“Still here,” Etho promises, and Gem shifts backward just enough to let him spoon up behind her.

“Good,” she grunts in appeasement, “because I know enough to find you now.”

His mouth presses warmly against her shoulder and she can feel his smile.

“Okay,” he agrees. “But are you sure that’s a threat?”

Gem opens her eyes in surprise, and the room is dark around them — the lights off now.

If it's not a threat, it means he’d willingly let her find him again.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks and her chest tightens at the tone of his voice.

He's trying to play it cool.

Beneath the covers, she slips her hand over his, where it's resting on her stomach.

“If there's a guy still in my bed, I'll probably have sex with him again,” she says. “And after that, I might see if he's free for breakfast, lunch, and maybe dinner.”

Etho's quiet for a long moment, before eventually saying, “Yeah?”

“But if he's busy, I might ask his mom to hang out instead.”

The choked noise that escapes him has her grinning, and laughter bubbles out of her as he shifts, pulling away enough to nudge her onto her back, peering down at her in the dark.

“I take back what I said earlier,” he tells her and she hums when he leans down close enough for their mouths to brush.

“Yeah?”

“You're worse than you are on the server.”

She laughs again, bringing one hand up to his jaw.

“Are you free or not?” she asks, and he goes easily when she draws him the rest of the way in.

“I'm free,” he agrees, and kisses them both quiet.

Notes:

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