Disclaimer: Ain't mine, ain't makin' money.
Spoilers: Nary a one.
Rating: Straddling the line between a heavy R and NC-17.
Feedback: Hit me.

Notes: All.  Jojo's.  Fault.  This is getting to be a theme, this is.

***
 
Because 
by A.j. 
 
*** 
 
Because he calls you 'Samantha' when he cums. 
 
Eyes wide, body thrusting into yours. Taking something that you're not giving, 
exactly. More something that's left over with nowhere to go. 
 
You know how this started. Just as you're very aware that the sounds you're making 
are never quite a name. Incoherent grunts and moans. Sometimes screams. But 
never a name. This started because of that. 
 
Because he takes you dancing and to fancy restaurants. 
 
He knows the wine lists, smiling wide when you tell a crude joke. "Blue collar 
parents," he says when you raise an eyebrow. And pull your hand away, just a bit 
too quickly. 
 
Sometimes it's too easy. Smiling at him. Hearing him laugh. Feeling his arms around 
you when you're swaying to a Frank Sinatra song. You know where you'll be after 
desert. 
 
Because you smile when you're with him. 
 
Easy and soft. You can let your eyes and body and mind relax around him. His 
stories weaving a seperate world around you. Taking you away and distracting you, 
even from him. 
 
Sinking cautiously into his embrace, even when it isn't sexual. Letting yourself. 
 
But mostly... 
 
Because three days ago, you were standing in the rain and the muck on a planet too 
far away for even your brain to deal with, laughing like there was no tomorrow. 
 
Because staring at another face, another man, you were happier and safer, and more 
free than you've ever been. 
 
Because it's always been like this. And you've finally stopped lying to yourself, and it 
will always *be* like this. 
 
Because you like *this* man. 
 
But not enough. 
 
"Goodbye."