Summary: A series. At the ten year suite-mate reunion with all of your Hartfeld friends, Chris honors a pact that you made during senior year. This is for anyone out there like me whose MC dated James and missed her chance with Chris due to his emotional unavailability in Book 1 (or anyone who just loves Chris Powell, really).
Disclaimer(s): I do not own any characters originally introduced in The Freshman. This series takes place mostly during a time jump. This series will be based on my own perceptions of the characters, and not all recollections of their history together will be cannon to each reader.
After taking a shower and changing for bed, you untwist the towel in your hair and begin to gently squeeze away any remaining water. The night has been long and eventful, and standing under the stream of hot water was exactly what you thought you needed to unwind and relax. You press your face into the towel, taking in the scent of your shampoo with a contented sigh, and then toss it away into the laundry hamper. You cross the threshold of your guest room doorway and pad down the hallway leading to Tyler and Abbie’s kitchen, thirsty for a large glass of water. The house is sleepy and quiet in the middle of the night, but lights are left on in the bathrooms and kitchen.
You’re surprised to find Chris sitting hunched at the kitchen island scrolling through his phone. At the sight of you, he straightens his back slightly. You shoot each other warm smiles.
“You’re a sneaky one. I didn’t hear you walking in,” Chris says, eyes casually returning to the screen of his phone.
You smile to yourself, “Sorry if I startled you”. The floor feels chilly underneath your bare feet as you open up a cabinet and help yourself to a glass. You bring it to the refrigerator and press the rim against a lever, watching as it fills slowly with water. The refrigerator hums.
“Trying to avoid a hangover?” asks Chris, grinning softly at you as you turn to face him. You walk to the island and lean on your elbow across from him, setting your glass of water down.
“No, I sobered up the minute Zack ran at me with crazy eyes,” you say, taking a long sip. This makes Chris chuckle. “How ‘bout you? Can’t sleep?”
He locks his phone and places it in front of him, spinning it in circles on the marble countertop. “Nah, not tired. Guess I’m still energized from all the fun,” he says, raising his eyebrows. “Zig’s fast asleep in our room and I didn’t want to disturb him”.
“Aww, poor little guy’s tuckered out from all the action,” You tease, tilting your head. Chris smiles and shakes his head from side to side. There’s a brief pause. “Well… I don’t think I’m going to sleep right away. You wanna stay up a while? Talk?”
Chris makes eye contact. “Sure, I’d like that”.
Swallowing the last of your water, you wash the glass at the sink and dry off your hands. As you pass him, Chris looks up. You throw your head to the side gesturing for him to follow you to your room, which he does. You can hear your footsteps echoing throughout the hallway, with slightly louder steps coming from Chris’s feet behind you.
Sitting up on either side of the bed, you and Chris discuss the events of the night and the weekend so far. You tuck your legs underneath you as you swoon over the beach, and the house, and the company of those who you’ve missed so much. You agree that July 4th falling on a Monday was the perfect opportunity for a three day weekend and a long vacation with your friends. You talk and you laugh and you try to keep your voices down so as to not wake anyone. Time passes and you’ve somehow moved from either end of the bed to lying flat against the pillows, eyes trained on the ceiling. Your hands are folded on your stomach while Chris’s are behind his head. You notice that it’s been quiet for a few minutes as you listen to Chris breathing slowly, in and out.
“Hey, Chris? You awake?” You speak softly, not bothering to turn your head his way.
Chris exhales through his nose. “I’m relaxed as hell, but yeah, I’m awake”. He hears your body shuffling against the sheets to turn over and face him, and so he does the same. “What’s up?”
It’s hard to avoid Chris’s crystal blue eyes. Almost as hard as it’s been to avoid the one topic of conversation you’re sure both of you have been thinking about since you’ve had a moment alone. You’ve spoken about everything else, anything else as you sat so closely together in your bed. You were afraid to bring it up, and you’re betting he was, too.
“About earlier…” You try, feeling at a loss for words as Chris’s eyes start to search you. His tongue peeks out slightly to wet his lips and he says nothing. As much as you want to say, you’re not sure where to start, so instead you let out a nervous laugh. Chris scoots himself ever so slightly closer to your body and reaches out to hold your hand. You look at it, your manicured fingers on the pillow beside you, closed gently around his hand, and when you look back, his lashes are blinking back at you.
Chris Powell had always had an arsenal of facial expressions that were equipped to kill a woman with one look. And, having known him so long, you’re sure you could recognize any one of them. First, of course, was the golden boy smile, the one that took up half his face, the one he gave when he won a football game or when he laughed wholeheartedly. That smile lit up any room it entered without fail. Similarly was the nervous smile, the one that stretched just slightly less, the one he gave when he scratched the back of his neck, a telltale sign that he felt awkward or uncomfortable. He also had a look that said he was lost in thought or communicating without words, which you recognized when he drew his brows slightly together and clenched his jaw, blue eyes darting around. But this… this one was something of a rare find, as you had only seen it maybe once or twice before.
Lights from the city twinkle in the dark night as you lean against the railing around your suite’s rooftop. You can feel the crisp fall air nipping at your skin, despite how his presence and the way that he looks at you heats up your cheeks. You know that he is, looking at you, from where he stands just inches away. Mustering up the courage to face what you’re feeling, you turn to face him. His face is soft, but with masculine features, like his square jaw and his thick brows. His hair is softly tousled to the side, short enough to uncover and show off his eyes. You’re not sure you’ve ever stood this close to a boy with eyes like his before. They’re an icy blue with specks of gray, looking as though the moonlight is dancing in their reflection. You suck in a breath.
You had hoped you weren’t the only one who felt a connection when you ran into each other that day. He had been so kind and chivalrous, and those eyes…
His presence so close to you is something that makes you feel nervous and comfortable at the same time. You’re not sure what it is, but, standing here, with his fingers brushing yours, it feels natural. Easy. The way he looks at you makes you think that he notices it, too.
But then there is that cloud hanging overhead, the one that is ready to rain down on your perfectly easy moment. It is what he had said just an hour or so before, about coming out of a serious relationship. The one that broke him. He had said he wasn’t ready to get involved with someone again, not yet. And you respect that. Most guys in his position would be racking up as many notches on their belts as they can get, being the quarterback of the football team, newly single and at a school full of girls who are ready to throw themselves at said quarterback. But him… he wasn’t most guys. And somehow, you could tell that about him after only knowing him for a day.
He breaks eye contact from you to pick mindlessly at his fingers. You can see that something’s on his mind, so you lay a hand on his arm. He tells you about the internal conflict he’s struggling with, that he wants so badly to kiss you even though he knows it would be going against a promise he made to himself. You’re his roommate, after all, and this is more complicated than anything else. Your heart sinks a little as you listen to him, knowing that whatever chance you might have had together is likely slipping away. You struggle with your own thoughts for a moment, wondering if it would be appropriate to tell him how you feel in return.
He kisses you on this night, in the quiet of the darkness, with nothing but shaky breath surrounding you. His hands cup your face, sending waves of warmth throughout your entire body. When he pulls back, it’s slowly, lips and noses still brushing together. His eyes flicker up to yours, and you blink at him, not able to contain the grin from spreading across your cheeks. He laughs lightly and his breath fans across your face, causing you to shiver.
This night serves simultaneously as the beginning and the end of your great love affair with Chris Powell.
“When we… almost… was it… I mean…” You trail off, struggling.
Chris’s eyes are fixed on you and his lips are curling gently on one side. His face looks… what you might say is genuinely content. Without moving a muscle or opening his mouth, he’s conveying true emotion. And you feel it move through you when he kisses your lips.
You would have been taken aback by his kiss if he weren’t so close to your face to begin with. When he draws back, you take a moment before opening your eyes. He watches you to gauge your response, waiting calmly. When your eyes flutter open, all of your memories and flashbacks come to a halt, and all you can see is Chris’s face before you. Your head clears of its usual racing thoughts and over-analysis, and it’s only a moment before you’re searching for his lips again. It starts soft, sweet. And as Chris brings his hand to the back of your head, it quickly grows more passionate.
You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about this exact moment. That your eyes hadn’t lingered a little too long on your roommate’s figure while he walked from the bathroom to his bedroom after a shower. That you hadn’t felt the heat rising in your cheeks at the sight of his pectorals under a button down or of his biceps threatening to break free from the sleeves of his short sleeved tee. And you’d even be lying if you said that you hadn’t secretly hoped to feel a bulge coming through his pants on the dance floor just an hour or two earlier. Your head starts to spin a little with thoughts similar to these as you try to process the sensation of Chris’s hands exploring your body.
His lips drop from yours, leaving them cold and tingling. His kisses are eager and messy as they ravage your neck and your collarbone. You feel his teeth scrape lightly over your skin, Chris’s throat emitting a desperate groan. His name falls from your lips through gasping breaths, fighting for a moment of clarity.
“Chris…?” He stops at the sound of your voice and meets your eyes, biting his lip. “Do you… have…” You nod your head frantically, physically unable to form the words.
Without as much as a mutter, Chris hurdles over the edge of the bed and flees from the room, returning quickly with a condom in his hand. He turns to close and lock the door softly behind him, looking at you playfully. You wriggle on the bed under his gaze, watching as he reaches his arms back and pulls his shirt over his head in one swift motion. He then kicks his shorts off, revealing a pair of gray boxer briefs that sit snugly around his Adonis belt. He licks his lips as he watches your chest heaving and then lets his gaze travel down the length of your body.
Wrapping a hand around each of your ankles, he spreads your legs apart, creating room for him to climb in between them. Your thighs hook loosely around his hips as he leans forward and tugs at the hem of your sleep shirt. With a nod, you permit him to take it off. His fingertips immediately land on your sides and slide up toward your breasts, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He sucks at the flesh on your neck and presses his lips lower on your skin until you feel them closing over one of your nipples. You shut your eyes in ecstasy at the warmth of his tongue sliding over one of your most sensitive places and you imagine what he’ll do to you next. His hot breath suddenly retreats from your skin, making your eyelids flutter open at the absence.
You look up at Chris while he runs both of his hands softly down your body, from cupping your breasts, to brushing down your abdomen, and finally hooking his fingers under the waistband of your shorts. Once he pulls them down your legs and throws them aside, your body is naked and vulnerable. His head tilts to the left, admiring your form while he sucks a lip between his teeth. He rotates his wrist and walks his fingers toward your center, tracing them downward to feel your wetness. You inhale sharply through your nose at his touch and he releases a satisfied sigh. You feel like you’re melting underneath him. He slides his fingertips with ease up and down your center.
Feeling antsy and entirely turned on, you sit yourself up to make contact with Chris’s body. Your hand flies first to the outside of his boxer briefs, stroking an open hand over the outline of his length. He is warm to the touch even through the cotton fabric. Your eyes search his for a moment before he crashes into your lips hungrily, pointer and middle fingers still teasing your sensitive bundle of nerves down below. A moan escapes your lips and vibrates into Chris’s mouth just before you snake your hand beneath his elastic, gripping his swelling erection. It fills your hand perfectly and your inner freshman can’t help but squeal as you think about the remaining secrets of Chris Powell’s body which are about to be revealed.
This man, flustered, fit, and blue-eyed, groans huskily at the feel of your touch. He locks your lip in between his teeth, reveling in the pleasure you are giving him. As you start to pick up speed, he slides one finger into your entrance, and then another. His free hand leaves the back of your neck to reach down and free your hand from his briefs, allowing him to concentrate on you again, and fully.
“Lie back”, he says, halfway between suggestion and command. You happily comply.
Chris continues to work his fingers playfully inside of you. He slows his motion to a steady pace, watching your expression carefully. Your breath hitches in your throat when he lowers his body to the bed and settles himself between your legs. He shoots you one last glance in the eyes before bringing his lips to your core, licking and kissing you softly. At the sound of your moaning, his fingers curl upward toward your G-spot and his lips close around you, sucking you to the brink of ecstasy. You feel pleasure building inside you like a thermometer skyrocketing. You arch your back off of the bed, and noticing that you’re getting close, Chris retrieves his fingers and removes his lips from your skin with a tantalizing lick. Falling back to the mattress, you gasp for air, reeling from the orgasm he almost allowed you to have. You never thought you could be this thrilled from not getting off.
Chris sees your brow pinch with sexual frustration. He squeezes your hips in his hands and smirks at you teasingly, which forces an unamused laugh up your throat and through your lips. The object of your desire climbs up your body like a jungle cat stalking his prey. He slides his body, sun-kissed and sexy, between your trembling legs, pulling the bed covers over his back to cover the both of you. You wrap your arms around his back muscles and then downward to his ass. You give it a gentle squeeze as you wrinkle your nose at him, trying to get a grin out of him, and it works. He licks his lips and then presses kisses up your neck, stopping at your ear to whisper,
“Take them off”.
Gulping, you push his boxer briefs down as low as you can with your fingers and then guide them down his legs with your toes the rest of the way. He kicks them off somewhere in the abyss of bedsheets at your feet and leaves a trail of kisses from your neck to your jaw, finally ending at the corner of your thirsty mouth. There’s a new sensation against your skin after discarding the last shred of clothing that stood between you and Chris. Your stomach does flips with excitement and desperation when you feel him press himself against your entrance. It’s clear that both of you are dying to get a taste. Chris pulls back gently to align himself and you admire his face in the shadows of the dim light. You can hear the sound of plastic ripping while he concentrates for a brief moment. He then looks you square in the eye, giving you another chance to stop him.
The answer to his question is a resounding ‘Yes, God, please!’ in your head, but it comes out hoarse and whispered in the space between you,
“Yes”.
His lips cover yours firmly and he is moaning against your mouth before he’s even filled you entirely. You can’t help but gasp, once he does, digging your fingernails into his shoulder blades. The feeling that consumes you can only be compared to intoxication. You had already lost your buzz long before Chris had touched you. This… this feels like you are drunk on him. Exhilaration pumps through your veins as you look into Chris’s blazing, piercing eyes. They’re magnetic, and the longer he looks at you, the further he draws you in.
Your hands roam and grope each other’s bodies, glistening with sweat. You buck your hips into him, trying to feel him deeper. Chris emits a groan and you love the sound of his voice vibrating the air around you. He tangles one of his hands in your hair, savagely kissing your lips. It gets messier as time goes on, tongues dancing, but neither of you mind.
“Chris…” you try through heavy breathing.
“Mmm?” he replies, mouth never leaving your body, tongue running down your chest.
Before you waste another breath, you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. You try to roll your bodies over, but fail to move his massive bodyweight. Chris’s eyebrow arches at what you’re suggesting, flashing a toothy grin. He growls with delight before swiftly and easily flipping you over to lie on top of him. You can now lay your palms flat to Chris’s chest and straddle his body. You like the feeling of sudden control, and it’s evident that it looks good on you, too, because a fire lights in Chris’s eyes as he watches you grind slowly against him. He bites his lip, seeming to be holding something back, and it’s then that you realize how close he is to cumming. You flip your hair all to one side and dig your fingers into Chris’s skin for stability. He takes each side of your waist in his strong hands to help guide your movements.
You revel in the tension that begins to build in your core once again. Your heart pounds in your chest and Chris’s skin flushes, as you push one another to the edge. Not longer than a moment later, Chris is taking your chin in his hand and pulling you down to kiss him. You nod your head, knowing what comes next, and Chris begins to unravel underneath you.
He calls out in bliss, eyes rolling back in his head, but he fights through the exhaustion to keep pressing up into you as hard as he can. It’s not long before the pressure releases within you, spilling pleasure out of every pore of your body. With one final, tired moan, you crash down onto him, limp and resting in the crook of his neck.
The two of you lie silently until your breathing is synchronized. Chris moves a weak and flimsy hand to stroke your hair and you smile with the little bit of strength that you have left.
The last thing you remember before dozing off into slumber is planting a tender kiss on Chris Powell’s lips.