Charlotte’s feet hurt. Her back aches and her eyes burn and she just wants out of these clothes. She wants soft sheets and quietness and more than anything she wants sleep. Each step she has to climb to her apartment feels like it’s own mountain after ten hours on her feet, eleven if she counts the half hour crammed between morning commuters on the subway and the half hour walk to her building. She is the very definition of exhaustion and she just wants to be home in her bed but she has two more flights of stairs.

She grumbles, whining silently to herself as she finally reaches the sixth floor, fumbling for her keys and she lets out a relieved sigh as she turns the lock, moving to push the door open. But she’s relaxed too soon, growling in annoyance as the door bangs against something, barely opening half way and she heaves a perturbed sigh, wedging herself inside.

She looks forlornly at the sea of cardboard boxes stacked over nearly every inch of floor space, a narrow path leading to the kitchen and forking off into the tiny hallway leading to her bedroom. She drops her keys in the bowl by the counter, looking up just in time to see Justin shuffling his way out of the bathroom, a toothbrush stuck in his mouth, his hair a wild swirl of bed head curls. He grins around the object in his mouth and despite her fatigue she smiles too, dropping her bag onto one of the boxes and staggering her way towards him.

“’ough ‘ight?” he questions as she walks right into him, pressing her face against his chest and breathing in the warm scent of sleep still on his skin.

He wraps one arm around her, giving her a squeeze as he moves to pull the toothbrush from his mouth but she’s pulled back before he can hold her properly, letting her head hang back forlornly.

“Just busy,” she sighs, her voice drug from the back of her throat and his brow draws, rubbing a hand up and down her back.

“You look wrecked,” he says softly and she brings her head down to glare at him but it melts instantly into a pout.

“Thanks.”

“I don’t like you workin’ thirds,” he says, watching her turn to trudge back into the bedroom, not going back into the bathroom until she’s rounded the corner and out of sight. He spits toothpaste into the sink. “You know you could come work for m-”

“Don’t,” she cuts him off sharply and he hears the thunk of her shoes hitting the floor as she kicks them off. “You know how I feel about that.”

He pouts rinsing his toothbrush and setting it in the holder next to hers. “I feel like I never get to see you.”

“It’s only for this week,” she calls, her voice muffled from inside the shirt she’s pulling over her head.

“That’s what you said last week,” he retorts, shuffling back to the bedroom and swallows hard when she finds her in nothing but her underwear, her hands twisted behind her to undo her bra.

“They’re short handed,” she grunts, struggling and he steps forward, careful to avoid the overflowing suitcase at his feet. “Plus the paparazzi aren’t as-”

Her words cut off in a gasp as she feels his hand nudge hers out of the way, flicking her bra open with two fingers, as his other hand smoothes around her waist, lips attaching to her neck. She chuckles tiredly, leaning back into him, her arm reaching behind her to let her hand fist in his soft curls.

“I miss you,” he whispers against her skin, hand smoothing up her stomach to cup her breast tenderly and she turns her head, lips capturing his.

“It’s just for a little while,” she whispers against his lips, pecking them softly before she has to turn her head in a large yawn.

He chuckles his hand retreating as he presses a kiss behind her ear, breathing deeply the scent of her hair, the mint of her shampoo mixed with grease.

“Ugh I smell like a French fry,” she groans, trying to tug away from him and he laughs, nibbling at her neck.

“I know you’re makin me hungry,” he teases, arms wrapping tightly around her and swaying them playfully.

She groans, trying to wriggle away and he enjoys her struggle before letting her loose. “Do you need a shower?” she asks turning towards him and his eyes linger on her chest for a beat before he lifts his eyes to her face to answer, finding her expression that of amusement.

“Yeah but you can go,” he says waving a hand dismissively.

“You have to go to work.”

“You’re exhausted.”

“Yeah but I can wait.”

“Yeah but you’re already pretty much naked,” he smirks and she feels her cheeks redden, her arms coming up to cross over her chest but his hands catch her at the wrists stopping her. “I wasn’t complaining.”

He’s smiling right until his lips meet hers and she lets herself give into his kiss, his hands warm on her bare waist, feeling the rough slide of his calloused fingers as he hooks them into the waistband of her underwear.

Her hands slip under the hem of his oversized t-shirt, his skin warm and soft, his lips detaching from hers only for the instant it takes for her to draw the fabric over his head. He nudges her panties to the floor and she moves to kick them from her ankles, her foot banging into a box next to the bed causing her to cry out. He winces, his hands going to hold her hips apologetically.

“I’m sorry I tried to move them around but there’s just-”

“No space,” Charlotte sighs, letting her eyes close as her head falls back, the exhaustion taking over and she tries not to feel overwhelmed.

“I’ll look for a storage place today I swear. I’m sorry,” he says quietly, pulling back from her and she reaches for his hand when he starts to turn, stopping him.

“I’m not mad,” she insists, closing the space between them again. “I’m not mad I’m just tired,” she sighs, wrapping her arms tightly around him and he hums softly at the feeling of her bare skin against his, a hand sneaking down to rest on her ass. She smiles against his collarbone. “And I smell like French fries.”

He growls chuckling. “I know. I’m hungry,” he insists and she squeals as he hooks his arms under her, lifting her into his arms as he turns, stumbling his way towards the bathroom.

“Whataya say?” he asks setting her back down, the tile cool against her bare feet as he makes quick work of his basketball shorts and boxers. “You. Me. Shower. Two birds. One stone. Hmm?”

She giggles as he snatches her close, kissing her over and over, mouth practically devouring hers. He nudges her back, both of them tripping their way into the tub, hissing and laughing when he turns on the water and it comes out ice cold. They shiver and clutch at each other at the back of the tub, limbs entangled, lips smacking playfully until the shower turns warm.

Justin pulls her under the spray, shaking his head as the water rushes over them, slinging droplets everywhere, Charlotte squealing and giggling as she pulls the curtain shut.

He pins her against the shower wall, the tile cool against her back, his body warm against her front and she moans softly, feeling him pressing into her lower belly. His lips drag down her neck, fingers grappling around for the bottle of shampoo and she giggles again, watching him squeeze some into his hand, puckering his lips as he begins to whistle a familiar tune.

“Rubber ducky, Justin?” she questions, raising an eyebrow at him as he urges her to bring her hand up, squirting some in her hand as well and they’re surrounded by the smell of mint.

“What it’s a good bath time song!” he exclaims and she laughs again her head tilting back so she doesn’t see him pout. “Fine. Splish, splash, I was takin' a bath / Long about a Saturday night, yeah.”

“Oh my god,” she exclaims, wheezing with laughter as he brings his hands up to massage shampoo into her hair, bobbing his head to the tune.

“A rub dub, just relaxin' in the tub / Thinkin' everythin' was alright. Hey do me,” he pouts and she rolls her eyes, bringing her own hands up to massage through his curls, his eye lids fluttering before he continues. “Well, I stepped out the tub / I put my feet on the floor / I wrapped the towel around me and I opened the door-”

“You know when I fantasized about us taking a shower together… I’ll admit it this wasn’t how it went,” she giggles as he maneuvers her under the spray, tangling his fingers in her hair as he rinses the suds from her locks.

“And then a-splish, spla- Wait, what?” he cuts off abruptly, looking at her wide eyed and she just laughs again, turning them so she can force him under the water, her fingernails raking against his scalp. “You’ve-” he pauses to spit water out of his mouth, “you’ve fantasized about this?” He struggles trying to wrestle his head away from her, expelling more water from his mouth. “You’re drowning me babe.”

They both giggle as he nudges her back against the shower wall again, his nose nuzzling against hers, her thigh slipping between his legs and he grins down at her, her green eyes tired but sparkling and that dimple puckers her cheek. Her hands slide slickly over the breadth of his shoulders, her tongue snaking out to wet her bottom lip and he can feel a pleasant tug in his groin, the kind that makes him want to press harder against her, begging for friction.

“Tell me about what you’ve… you know…” he prods, grinning widely at the blush that colors her cheeks. “fantasized about.”

“I dunno,” she stutters, looking down at his chest, her fingers chasing water droplets down his skin. “It was just… there was just…”

“What?” he says softly, his voice vibrating low in his chest as his lips coax hers into a soft kiss.

“A loofah,” she sighs, as his lips smudge her jaw and he pulls back giving her a dubious look. She opens her eyes and then as if realizing what she’d just said, turns pink. “I mean… like… we were washing each other with one… thoroughly.” She frowns as he raises an eyebrow.

“Thorough washing…” he says dully. “Yeah I mean… that’s…real sexy.”

She smacks his chest, the whap of her fingers sharp and he winces pouting at her. “You… shut up.”

And with that she snatches her loofah from its hook on the shower caddy, Justin biting back a laugh as she drizzles body wash onto it with determination. His laughter dies as she wipes it across the breadth of his chest, the light scratch of the mesh grating against his nipples and his stomach actually trembles as she drags it down his torso. He hums softly, watching her soap his hipbones, careful to avoid his growing length and he sucks in a shaky breath as she lowers herself in front of him, dragging the loofah down the front of his thighs.

She smirks, taking great care in washing his legs, making sure she is close enough to let her breath fan against his most sensitive flesh. She likes feeling his knees jerk as she reaches behind them, tickling his skin and the way he twitches as she washes his inner thighs, his legs widening, giving her all the access she wants but she teases him by not accepting his invitation.

He’s pouting as she stands again, running the sponge over his chest again, soaping his arms and he doesn’t take his eyes from her face, his hands moving to rest on her hips before starting to roam impatiently.

“Turn,” she says softly and his eyes meet hers, her pupils dilated with lust and he can feel his stomach do a flip, the thought that she’s turned on just by touching him making his skin burn.

He turns slowly, stepping under the spray, watching the suds wash from his skin before he moans, eyes snapping shut at the feel of the sponge raking over his back. His head falls forward, loose on his neck as she scrubs at his skin, tingles running through him, the contradiction of the scratchy sponge followed by the smooth swipe of her hand making his knees tremble. She giggles at the sharp “ey” he gives her when she runs the loofah over his ass, pressing a kiss to his shoulder as her hand slips around his hip, reaching between his legs.

He lets out a soft groan, looking down to watch her small hand grip him, fingers wiggling before giving him a firm stroke that makes his knees go weak. He dips his head, feeling the water rush all over him, washing away the suds, feeling her lips press wet kisses along the breadth of his shoulder blades, her hand pumping him slow and steady.

He lets himself enjoy it until his breathing starts to turn ragged, the pull for release starting to tug more urgently before he pulls her hand away, turning to face her again. His hands cup her face, holding her steady so he can devour her mouth, sucking and nibbling at her lips until she’s panting, her hand searching for his hardness again, wanting all of him.

She’s confused when he wrenches the loofah from her grasp but only for a moment, her eyes fluttering open to watch his face as he lets the sponge slide across her collarbones. He’s mesmerized, bringing it down to swirl around her breasts, using his free hand to thumb one of her peaks, feeling it slick from the suds and she hums her appreciation. She watches him soap her stomach and her sides, his head tilting to the side in awe as he watches the loofah run over the generous curve of her hip.

“Turn,” he says lowly, his voice a dry rasp and she raises an eyebrow at him, a smirk tugging at her lips as she turns slowly, stepping under the spray and she feels his hand on her hip before she feels the slide of the loofah against her lower back.

He flattens his hand against her shoulder blades, pushing her hair aside and she reaches up to gather it over her shoulder, sighing as he runs the sponge over her back, his free hand exploring her thighs, grabbing quick handfuls of her ass and making her giggle. She gives him the same teasing “ey” he’d given her as he runs the sponge over her bottom, receiving a sharp smack there for her cheek and she squeals, trying to shuffle away from him.

His hand wraps around her bicep, pulling her back and turning her towards him again, she pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as he lowers to his knees. Her breathing is shallow as he takes his time washing her legs, bringing the sponge from the top of her thigh down to her ankle, in slow strokes, up and down, making slow progress around them. She actually whimpers when he washes her inner thigh, the mesh, brushing against the sensitive flesh between her legs just slightly, making her gasp.

He lets the loofah fall to the floor then, the game forgotten as he runs his hands up her thighs, feeling her slouch back against the shower wall, her muscles trembling under his fingertips. He feels her hand comb back through his hair as his lips smudge her hipbone, nails scraping his scalp and she doesn’t even have time to beg, his tongue snaking its way between her slick folds.

They moan in unison, her at the feeling of his tongue stroking her clit and him at the evidence of her arousal, lapping at her greedily, one hand nudging her legs further apart while the other flattens against her belly, feeling it tremble and heave. She moans his name, her head rolling against the tile wall, fingers twisting wickedly in his hair as he draws her thigh over his shoulder, giving him better access, his tongue probing and licking at her, teasing her to the edge.

She whimpers as his tongue draws lazy circles around her clit, his fingers coming up to press against her entrance, slipping the tips in and then retreating, giving her a long wide lick that makes her tremble. She cries out, her back arching when he eases two fingers inside her, his tongue massaging against her clit, her stomach clenching with want.

“Justin…” she whimpers, one hand still threaded through his hair, the other clutching at his shoulder, her fingernails leaving halfmoons in his skin. “Justin…”

He lets his lips smack against her, concentrating on the steady push and pull of his fingers, his groin twisting and tugging, wishing it wasn’t his fingers that were inside her. But he can feel her thighs begin to shake, her moans becoming louder as her inner muscles try to pull him deeper and when he curls his fingers in a come hither motion they lock down on him, her shout of pleasure echoing off the tile walls as she clutches the back of his head, her other hand moving to the shower wall for support.

He catches her sliding down the wall as he stands, supporting her trembling frame and she leans against him limply, her breathing ragged. She feels like her skin is on fire, her release loosening her muscles and making her eyes want to drag shut but when she feels him brush against the front of her thigh, her exhaustion is overpowered by overwhelming want for him.

Her hands are uncoordinated and weak as she paws at his chest, trying to get her feet under her enough to stand, to maneuver them into a position that will get him inside of her. He chuckles at her clumsiness, his hands moving to cup her face seeing a look of fierce want despite the exhaustion in her eyes. He kisses her slowly, feeling her whimper against his lips, her hands clutching at his waist, grappling between them to hold him in her hand.

He sighs, feeling her work his flesh as he moves to pin her back against the shower wall. Her eyes are heavy, gazing at him blearily and he kisses her slow, peeking at her from under his lashes between long pecks.

“Jus’in,” she slurs wiggling against him, her body weak with fatigue and she feels him chuckle against her lips.

“Mmm?”

“Bed?” she questions, her nose nuzzling against his and she feels him smile against her lips, kissing her slowly before nodding.

He pulls her to him as he steps out, grabbing a fluffy towel from the back of the door and wrapping it around her shoulders. Her hands are still all over him, touching his chest and stomach, fatigue giving his skin a surreal feeling, her body humming with want but begging for sleep at the same time. She shrugs the towel to the floor, her lips finding his and kissing him deeply, pressing her body needily against his and he moans, stumbling backwards to get to the bedroom, dragging her body along with him.

They fall back onto the bed, Charlotte drawing herself back up the sheets clumsily, Justin following her in a lithe crouch until her head rests back against the pillows, turning her face to the side and inhaling his scent from them. He lowers himself over her, her legs parting to allow him to rest intimately against her, his mouth opening against her neck, sucking at her skin.

She wraps her arms around him, their skin sticking together damply, as he reaches between them, smoothing the tip of him through her wetness, eliciting a full body shiver from both of them. She sighs deeply as he slips the head in, moving to plant his hands on either side of her shoulders before sliding in slowly, his eyelids fluttering as he sinks into her wet heat.

She moans deep as he presses against that spot inside her that makes her tremble, his hips flush against hers as he lowers his body gently onto hers, kissing her deeply. She brings her knees up, hugging his hips tight before crossing her ankles at his lower back, her head falling to the side as his hips begin to roll slowly into hers. He’s panting in her ear, gulping in deep breaths, moaning as he presses his face into her hair.

Her hands flatten against his shoulder blades, holding him and clutching at his skin, her legs shaking, toes tingling as he draws pleasure from her slowly. He pulls back to kiss her, sucking at her bottom lip before his mouth opens against hers in a groan, the tugging in his groin pushing his hips to roll harder, his pace quickening as the knot in his stomach tightens. Her nails curl in against his back, dragging down and he arches, his hips shoving hard against hers, causing her to cry out her body rocking up into his, begging for more.

“Charlie,” he whispers, his voice a dry rasp body bumping against hers and she can’t respond, her head thrashing from side to side weakly.

“Please,” she manages to grind out, her toes curling, feeling it building in her belly, her body coiling tight. “Close…”

His breath shoves from his lungs at her confession, feeling a tingle run from the back of his neck down his spine, washing over his skin in prickles. The hairs on his arms stand up as her body sucks at his, drawing his own release to the surface. She can feel the build begin to crest, her fingers clutching at his skin, eyes snapping shut as her back arches, her thighs crushing his hips as she tries to pull him in.

He groans, his arms shoving beneath her shoulder blades, pulling her body tight against his as she cries out, jerking and shuddering underneath him, her release milking his flesh and he follows her on two short thrusts, his face pressing hard into her neck, curling into her and hanging on for dear life.

They’re a pile of exhausted limbs as they come down, muscles slowly loosening, fingers and toes uncurling. His back stings from where she’d clawed him, her shoulder aches from where his teeth had dug in and they hold each other in silence, listening to the steady hum of the air conditioner that muffles the morning bustle outside.

He pulls back and finds her already half asleep, her eyes half lidded and unfocused, her arms heavy against his back. He smiles, pressing a sweet kiss to her lips before rolling onto his side, pulling her snug against him. She lays her cheek against his chest, her breath fanning his damp skin lightly and he lets his head loll to the side, nose nuzzling into the hair at her crown, breathing deeply the intoxicating smell of mint and her.

“You got’a go to work,” she slurs, barely hanging on to consciousness, and he doesn’t think she realizes how tightly she’s holding him while telling him he needs to go.

“I can be late,” he whispers into her hair, enjoying the feel of her skin and the quiet that surrounds them.

“No, can’t be late,” she mutters, her body contradicting her words as she gives him a squeeze.

“I can do what I want. I’m the boss,” he teases, his fingers playing in the wet ends of her hair, smiling against her temple.

“’s’rude to keep people wai’ing,” she mumbles, stifling a yawn against his chest. “’n you’re no’ the boss an’more. Producer’s the boss. You’re jus’ the talent.”

He chuckles tugging her hair gently as he teases, “What idiot told you that?”

She giggles, the sounds making his chest feel full to the breaking point. “You.”

He gives her one last squeeze, pressing his lips hard against her temple before moving to untangle himself from her embrace. She’s asleep before his feet even touch the floor, her mouth slightly open as she curls into herself at the loss of his warmth. He wrestles the blankets from underneath her, letting them flutter over her and wasting a few more precious moments running his fingers through her hair and kissing any part of her face he can get to.

He dresses slowly, eyes flicking to her sleeping form every now and then when he runs into a box, or trips over a suitcase but she’s out cold. He eats a bowl of cereal leaning against the kitchen counter, humming to himself and listening to the sound of her quiet apartment, eyes staring down the hallway where he can see her foot peeking from beneath the covers. When he’s ready to leave he slips his phone in his pocket and gathers his keys, looking around the cramped living room overrun with boxes of his junk and is tempted to just haul it all down to the curb. He doesn’t need any of it anyway, he thinks his eyes flicking back down the hall one last time.

He’s perilous to stop himself from padding back to her, lowering himself to the side of the bed and leaning over her, nuzzling at her cheek and running a hand down her arm. She stirs after some coercion, his lips teasing kisses against hers.

“Leaving?” she questions blearily, her eyes creaking open and he grins, nodding.

“I’ll see you when I get home,” he whispers and her lips twitch at his use of the word.

“I have to work at seven,” she warns, stifling a yawn with her hand and he frowns, smoothing the hair back from her face.

“You know if you worked for m-”

“Jus’in,” she snaps, sounding annoyed but most of the venom is lost in her tired slur and he merely smiles, pressing a sweet kiss to her cheek.

“Fine, fine,” he murmurs, his lips still pressed against her skin.

And when she turns her head to capture his lips with hers it’s as if the entire world stops, his stomach bottoming out and he marvels once again at how right she feels. She pulls back, letting out a soft groan as she falls back to the pillows again, curling up tight as exhaustion overtakes her again. He watches her for a moment, running his fingers through her tangled locks and silently thanking God that even when he was too late, he still got a second chance.

“I love you Charlie,” he whispers, thumb brushing her cheekbone and even in sleep she breaks into the same brilliant grin she has when she’s awake, the dimple appearing in her right cheek.

“I love you too.”