Pianoman

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Braeden Quinn

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Things were . . . odd. Mainly because Bellamy wasn't sure how he felt about a situation and nor could he talk to anyone about it. The incident in the elevator that occured had been a week ago. And it should have been a one time thing --  thus far, it was. But Bellamy had not anticipated was that he would want it to happen again. He wasn't one to create deep, emotional bonds with any lovers he had . . . yet with Braeden, it felt different. So damn different. She had been his first when he was younger, and the two of them had remained friends, working together even now. Was that why it felt so different to be with her? The foundation they had adding to the impact of it? He didn't know.

But nor could he allow it to happen again. From a professional standpoint, it would damage both of their careers. Besides, his father would be infuriated if he ever found out. No. He couldn't let it happen again. And yet . . . he so desperately wanted it to. Feeling the need to clear his head, Bellamy went to one of the smaller entertainment rooms. It was with his access that he could even get in, otherwise the door was locked as it was late at night.

He then went to one of the instruments in there: the piano. He didn't play as often as he liked, but sometimes, he would just come in here and play . . . for it allowed him to relieve some stress. He ahd just gotten off one of his shifts so didn't even bother changing first. Instead, he sat on the stool, opened the cover of the keys and stared at them. His fingers then assumed position as did his feet, and he just began to play a quiet tune, unaware that it would be overheard by anyone lingering about.

[Braeden Quinn]

Braeden Quinn had tactfully avoided her boss for a week now, and because she could not avoid him all the time she had made sure they were not alone during any of that time. Because a week ago, they had gotten locked int he lift and before she knew what was happening they were attacking each other, and pulling clothes off, and . . . . . . Braeden forced her mind to NOT think about it. She knew she needed to get over the awkwardness between them, and for that it meant she had to talk to him. She just hadn't expected it to happen so soon. The music had led her and her father here, and when they saw the back of Bellamy, Braeden told her father she was going to report in. He kissed her forehead good night and left. Not wanting to be disturbed and someone over head, Braeden pulled the door shut behind her and locked it. Braeden just stood there a moment and watched him. Bellamy had been such a big part of her past, and even now he was a big part of her present. It was hard to keep her emotions out of this, and she liked her hook ups emotion free. Bellamy wasn't emotion free. Squaring her shoulders she walked up and came to stand beside the bench while facing him. "Can we talk?" She asked, not really planning to give him a choice.

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Braeden Quinn

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy heard more than saw the familiar presence that filled the room when it asked if they could talk. He paused and turned around in the rectangular stool, looking at Braeden. He also noticed from the corner of his eye that the door was closed. That . . . was dangerous. Very dangerous, since he didn't trust himself around her. Not in such close quarters. He rose to his feet, standing before her, trying his best to keep his mind on whatever professionalism was left to exist between them. Maybe this was something about their work . . . though deep down, he was well aware that was not the case.

It was about them. Most probably. They had managed to avoid each other in the past several days, but she wanted to talk now and, he knew they had to. They worked too closely together to just let this slide. To pretend like nothing happened. Hell, the aftermath of their actions was enough to prove that it meant something, to both of them. And that was the problem now, wasn't it. "Sure," he agreed, appearing casual, stoic . . . refusing to let his emotions slip. "What's up?" Such a casual question for a not so casual situation. And yet, he didn't know how else to encourage her to keep going and assure her that she had his full attention.

[Braeden Quinn]

He stooped playing, turning to look up at her before rising to his full height. Braeden was a lot shorter then him, but she never let her lack of height let people one up her. It had been something she enjoyed when they were kids, and then even more so a week ago in the lift. Thinking about that made her breathing slow, and she had to force herself not to give herself away. "Sure, what's up?" Right, her turn to speak. Her eyes moved from his biceps to his face, where she made them stay. "It's about last week. I wanted to . . . . clear the air." Braeden never doubted in her self but she hated how awkward things were. "I figured it was more curiosity . . . or yeah. We just wondered how things had changed, and then were locked up and already keyed from from training." That was not what it had been for her. For her she ahd been enjoying the feel of his hand, and the way he smelled, and--AND it had gone to her head. She hadn't been thinking about their past. Only him, and then, and now--no! Not now! "And no matter how--" Hot, exciting, intense, orgasmic, perfect--"No matter how it was, we both know that it can't happen again. I just don't want things to be awkward between us." Because he was her best friend, and she loved him like one. She didn't want to loose him over this.

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Braeden Quinn

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

She got right to the point, something that Bellamy liked for he was the same way. No beating around the bush; no dancing around the subject. He wondered for a moment if that was what she really saw it as; just curiosity. He couldn't ask her otherwise. He knew it was best this way. To dismiss it; to make it sound like it was all physical when . . . Bellamy knew why it had been so good. Because he had already built the foundation of a friendship with her. Something that he didn't do often. But that for him, had contributed to the physical. It was why he couldn't forget about her so easily or just move on.

He wanted to explore this more, but also knew it was too dangerous. And needed her to be the strong one in this which . . . she was being. Completely. And that certainly wasn't a rarity. She was strong. Beautiful. Capable. Intelligent. Damn it! Why was he doing this?! "We're good," he assured her. He kept his voice steady, unrevealing of everything racing through his mind . . . and his heart.

"Just got caught up in the heat of the moment," he said with a forced half smile. It had been hot. Hot from training . . . hot from the passion of it. But she was right, it could never happen again. "But it's fine. Nothing has to be awkward." He was trying to convince himself of these words as well. For while it wouldn't be awkward . . . could he really go back to just being friends with her? Looking at her and not wanting more? He had to. It wasn't fair to her to ask her to jeapordize her career. "Are you . . . good?" With this. With everything. Because she was his primary concern. He wanted her to be ok.