Chapter Text
The changes in their relationship have been gradual. As with the evolution of any species,
their adaptations grow from the basis of need. Connection. Understanding. And always on the
surface, the need of feeling significant and attractive in the other's eyes.
Since the end of the series, they've learned to hone the skills required to be physically and emotionally available for one another.
After two decades, they're yet again changing, merging closer, becoming something entirely different.
Built on a relationship born of trial and error, familiarity and comfort, frustration and fame, they know what they need from each other now.
The uncharted physical territory is a mission to concur, and they've turned the exploring into foreplay for all to see.
Gone are the days of trying to run and hide from desires through avoidance or false assumptions.
Rather than viewing their relationship as taboo to the public's prying eyes, they've found humor and acceptance for the ridiculousness of their situation.
Being together is the easy part. The challenge they face now is being *together* together publically.
It's the physical changes that are most telling of what they're becoming. Namely, the loss of any desire to hold back. Whether alone
or surrounded by people, they allow themselves the luxury they denied themselves for years.
They aren't 'just friends' anymore. There is no conventional term for what they are now.
There probably never will be, which suits them just fine. They've always refused to be labeled.
-----
She sees the changes in him, by the way he accommodates her physically.
He dips down a little more. Leans in more. He puts his face level with hers easily now.
She barely has to lean up to talk in his ear or to hug him fully, or to bury her face in the groove of his neck.. or to kiss him.
He knows how tiny she is. No matter how tall her shoes are, she's still so much smaller than him.
Yet somehow they've managed to fit together like puzzle pieces. All she has to do is walk into him and he molds himself to her like a well-worn leather glove.
She sees the changes in him, by the way he stretches his arms out for her, how he lowers his shoulders so they're nearly level to her own.
He opens his entire being wider for her, brings her closer to his body, fits them together perfectly from the hips up.
All ofl these gestures silently tell her he craves more from her.
He's become more assertive with his attentions. She thinks it must be visible to the most casual of observers, he's marking
his territory. For once she doesn't mind being possessed, encourages it even. With anyone else it would feel confining, something she'd run from.
If she's running anywhere these days, it's to him.
She has become more attentive with him verbally. She knows his needs now. She knows he needs words to feel reassured, to feel imporant.
He loves subtlety, eats it up whenever she tweets anything about him directly (or indirectly) and loves when she does it randomly and obnoxiously.
To him, it's word foreplay.
He prefers to communicate physically, hence his constant touching. Though he is more prone to initiate affection, she gives as good as she gets.
-----
It was his concert that pushed the parameters of their developing relationship into the light of day. Something they both knew was bound to
happen sooner or later.
He knew she was coming to his concert, but he had no idea what to expect from her.
As he'd walked into the green room during a brief intermission, he spotted her in the far corner, chatting up a group of adoring young guys.
She spots him right as he does her, their eyes catching and holding with that familiar electric feel.
He closes the distance in a few rushing seconds, wrapping his arms
around her neck and shoulders as she loops hers just below his armpits.
She loves when he acts possessive of her, he's learned. Specifically when it's physical in nature.
SHe was flushed from her shoulders to her neck, a telling sign that she's excited, anxious.
"Hey baby," he said on an exhale, grinning like an idiot. He buried his nose right above her left ear, nuzzles her hair.
She turned her face into his neck, clutched his ribs and breaths "hey yourself, sexy." Her grin matched his.
He noted that her voice sounded higher than usual, her breathing heavy and her body pressed closer to his than
propriety usually allows her to. He could feel every curve of her body against his. Bless the silk-thin dress.
All the tell- tell signs he's come to learn as arousal for her were on open display, and they weren't even
remotely alone, though they were in a corner and the good people seemed to have migrated across the room.
"You made it," his tone is so light, so endearing. Content. SHe's not sure she's ever heard it before.
"How could I miss this, you singing and dancing in public? Of course I'm here. Plus you invited me. And my tambourine."
She's leaning back in his arms just enough to see his face, grinning like the chesire cat.
She's naughty and up to no good tonight. It's all over her face and in her body language she's boldly displaying.
She doesn't usually lean in to him so hard with her hips. Not publically anyway.
He wonders if she's aware of what she's doing with her hands. She's always been fidgety. Now those fidgety hands are directed at him.
One grabbing at his shirt front where he's a sweaty mess, right between his pecks, and the other still around his back
rubbing low, up and down hypnotically. It all feels so casual and absent-minded. Surreal.
How'd they get this far? There's a room full of people around them, and even more waiting in a room over, but they're in their own world.
He makes sure to hold her lightly, arms gently folding her body against his, hands resting on her exposed back. He wants to pull that
string on her dress so badly, wonders what she'd do if he yanked on it when they're on stage. He knows she loves when he touches her back.
He feels her shoulder blades shift as she continues to fidget with his shirt, pulling at it lightly to get his attention.
"This is exciting.. I bet they'll lose their shit the second I step out on that stage next to you".
She's downright giddy about the thought and it's doing funny things to his stomach. His heart is racing. Being in a setting like this,
with her, it feels like they're both high.
"Let's just hope people don't try to rush the stage and jump you. I know how popular you are these days"
He pulls her in so her chest is flush with his "and I'm the only one who gets that privledge now, damn it.",
he growls into her ear, playfully rubbing her neck and pressing his thumb back and forth over her shoulder blade, just below that damn string
that barely holds her dress together. Even her clothing choice is flirty.
She giggles that girly giggle that makes his whole body tingle and his head feel light. Her nose pressed into his neck, he feels her words rasp on his skin.
"No we can't have that. You'd have to set them straight.. maybe if we make out in front of them.."
"I'm not at all opposed to that idea, actually" he smirks and she draws back, widens her eyes in disbelief.
He's never been the type to be overly showy or pandering to a crowd.
".. well then in that case, prepare yourself G-man." She's never been one to back down from a challenge. This should be one hell of a show.
"David, they're ready for you" someone calls from the doorway.
He lets his arms slide away from her skin as he locks eyes with her, silently communicating with her in that way he always has. Letting her know
he's right there with her, she's safe to be herself with him, in this space.
"I'll cue you in with our theme song, kay?" He briskly rubs her forearms and grins at her before dropping his hands, adusting his pants ever so slightly at the hips,
a nervous habit, she's come to learn. She finds it adorably endearing.
"I'll be ready" She gropes at his shirt one last time, staring directly into his eyes, then rakes them down to his mouth where they rest.
There's no way they'll be able to perform on a stage together, feeling like they are in this moment, without revealing a piece of who they've become.
Showtime, indeed.