DECEMBER 29TH, 1994, MOCLIPS, WA

        "LINDY, JUST GO to sleep. I promise I'll be fine," Kurt pleaded, attempting to snatch a glimpse over at Lindy while also maintaining sight of the dark road ahead of them. A faint drizzle of rain had started to come down, making it even harder to see out of the windshield and into the black night.

Lindy, who was curled up in the passenger seat, felt completely drunk off of her own tiredness. By the time that she and Kurt had driven through Olympia, her eyes had been bobbing and she'd stopped playing her and Kurt's game of song-word association. Either she or Kurt would select a random word off of the top of their heads, and the other would have to name a song with that word in it. It had all been quite fun until she'd started to feel drowsy.

Kurt, of course, had told her to go ahead and sleep, but she refused to allow him to be up all by himself.

"No," she mumbled into the crook of her elbow. "I'm not doing that to you. And it doesn't matter anyways, I just saw the sign for Moclips five minutes ago."

"How?" Kurt marveled. "I can barely see anything in this weather."

"Because I'm a good driver and you're not."

"Sure. As if we both wouldn't be dead by now if you were driving. You speed like fucking crazy."

"I've always got somewhere to be," Lindy jested back, parting her eyes and smiling sleepily over at Kurt. He turned to look at her, but bashfully averted his eyes as if he'd been caught looking when he wasn't supposed to be. His behavior reminded Lindy of the splashes of shyness he'd exhibited when they'd first met.

Eventually, using the map that was propped against the dashboard, Lindy and Kurt were able to locate Krist and Shelli's cabin. They had driven past it twice, making Lindy all the more grateful that she had remained awake to serve as an extra set of eyes. As they pulled up the weathered path, Kurt's yellow headlights flashed upon the cabin.

He uttered a low whistle.

"They weren't kidding when they said it was old," he said, seemingly curious about how such a place was still standing.

It was definitely no seaside mansion. The paneling on the outside was peeling and it looked like the wood deck had been ripped apart and haphazardly placed back together. Strangely enough, Lindy liked the place. It had charm.

"How did they even find it?" Lindy asked as Kurt came to a stop out front. He shut off the car.

"I dunno'. Krist is good at finding cool shit like this. He likes all that backwoods, out of the ordinary stuff."

"That's Krist alright," Lindy agreed, followed by a soft laugh. She began to open the car door, but Kurt grabbed her arm.

"Wait," he insisted. Tugging off the ratty cardigan he wore, he jumped out of the car and ran to the passengers side. With the grace of a gentleman, he opened the door for Lindy and positioned the cardigan precisely over her head, protecting her from the misty rainfall.

"Thanks," Lindy said, stepping out of the car and leaning in to kiss him. She hesitated before she got anywhere near close to his face, snagging her teeth on her lower lip to stop herself.

"I'll get our shit. You go inside, out of the cold," Kurt instructed. He handed the cardigan over to Lindy and in the wet drizzle, opened up the backseat of his Dart to collect their things.

Lindy hurried up the walkway to the front deck, her feet slipping against the thick, wet sand coating the path. Once under the protection of roofing, she lowered Kurt's cardigan and dug through her sweatpants pocket, trying to find Shelli's keys.

Her heart was racing and she knew it had nothing to do with the pace at which she'd run up to the cabin. When she glanced over her shoulder at Kurt, who was pulling out his own duffel bag of things from the car, she felt her pulse skip a beat.

What the fuck is wrong with you? Lindy's mind lashed. She pushed open the creaky door and stepped inside, reaching out her hand to pat the wall down for a light switch. She located it with her roaming fingers and flicked it on.

The cabin was gorgeously rustic, looking like it might have belonged  in the mountains rather than on a beach. The wooden floors squeaked underneath Lindy's feet and the fireplace appeared to have collected a fine dusting of grime over it. She was amused to see a bass guitar, obviously belonging to Krist, propped up nearby the furnace. There was even an acoustic there as well, practically calling out Kurt's name.

She wandered farther in, grazing her fingertips along the worn burgundy couch in the living room. Everything about the place screamed 'old,' but it was too picturesque to be truly past its prime. Lindy laughed to herself when she saw the antique looking stove in the kitchen.

Of course this would be Krist and Shelli's version of a vacation home.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of luggage hitting the wood floor. She turned around, spotting a now damp Kurt breathing heavily and standing surrounded by bags. He smiled shyly at her.

"It looks better on you."

She looked down, unaware that she had unconsciously slipped her arms into Kurt's giant cardigan. Instinctively, she pulled it closer around her midsection. It smelled so much like him. Cigarettes and unrefined sweetness, tickling her nose and forcing her blood to pump faster through her veins.

"Is that your way of saying I can permanently borrow it?"

"I can't exactly tell you no."

They stood there, staring at one another silently. Kurt appeared to be waiting for Lindy to speak first, or maybe he didn't want her to say anything at all. His eyes were . . . intense. Lindy couldn't detect if it was lust or frustration, or even both churning behind them.

"It's nice, right?" she offered.

"Yeah, it's cool," Kurt replied plainly. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, looking around absentmindedly. Something else was clearly on his mind.

"In the morning when the weather clears up, we'll be able to go outside on the deck," Lindy informed him. "Shelli said it's a great view."

"I don't doubt it," Kurt agreed. He was looking out into the window, out into the night where the ocean lapped at the shore. A flash of lightning turned the sky white for a millisecond, illuminating the waves.

Lindy tried to hold back the yawn that creeped its way up throat, but she couldn't help it. She covered her mouth with her hand, but Kurt caught her in the act.

"You should probably get some sleep Linds," he suggested, his eyes flickering towards the staircase.

Lindy felt a pang of rejection in her chest. It hit her similarly to how the lightning had struck across the sky — fast and only lasting for one, blistering hot moment.

She knew better than to feel that way. She'd spent the whole car ride to Moclips fighting sleep, and it was no wonder that Kurt would tell her to go to bed if she was tired. It was simple. Like one plus one. When you're tired, you go to bed. Kurt was only looking out for her.

But still — something bothered her. It had been too easy for him to tell her to go to sleep. It was too easy for him to advise that they part ways for the evening  and skip the traditions of a normal wedding night. Did he not want that? Even if he was nervous, was that feeling too burdensome to overcome?

It had felt like only seconds prior he'd been agonizing over how tempting she'd looked in her wedding dress. Now, he was letting her go . . . when they were finally alone, at that.

"Right," Lindy mumbled. She grabbed her bag, walking towards the staircase and resisting the urge to steal another glimpse at him. He'd ambled towards the fireplace and picked up Krist's acoustic, messing with the tuners. Swallowing back the words she wanted to say, Lindy clomped up the stairs.

The end of the staircase deposited her directly into the bedroom, and it was just that. A bedroom. There were no doors or hallways leading to any other lodgings, and there was not even a door to where she stood then. It was a dead end, a niche that looked as if it had been crammed inside to fit snugly under the roof. The one bathroom in the entire cabin must have been downstairs. All that lay upstairs was a bed with no bed frame and a few scattered pieces of furniture. A mound of warm looking blankets lay strewn across the low-sitting bed.

Lindy set her things down, internally trying to decide if she was too tired to argue with herself. But she couldn't shake the bothersome feeling that for some reason, Kurt didn't want her.

There had been many times over the last eight months in which Kurt had expressed a longing to be intimate with Lindy. When she had been pregnant, they'd limited their options to what they could do to satisfy their needs. And when Charlie had been born, Lindy couldn't even recall a time when she'd felt secure enough with her post-pregnancy body  or even had the time to do anything remotely sexual with Kurt.

But now he had her. All to himself, fresh from their wedding, and he was letting her go to bed alone.

Maybe too much time had passed. Maybe it was something that he'd have to get used to again. He had been through a lot, after all. Not only rehab, but a complete emotional upheaval and a total change of pace in life.

Lindy remembered the last time that she and Kurt had made love, the night before he'd officially left for rehab, long before he'd decided to hop that damned fence. It had been so wonderful despite it being Kurt's form of a final goodbye to her.

She closed her eyes.

If she thought hard enough, she could recall every detail of how it had gone. She could raise her fingers and touch a spot of her skin where he had kissed, or run her hand along her waist and remember how hard, yet somehow still gently, he'd gripped her there . . .

Lindy's face fell along with her hand, and she felt close to sinking down onto the bed and crying. She wanted him so badly. How was it that they had forgotten how to love physically? That couldn't have possibly been true, not after everything that they'd endured.

"Lindy."

She hadn't heard him come up the stairs, which was a surprise considering how noisy they were. He was right behind her. She sensed him moving closer and became aware of his hand hovering not even inches away from her torso, hesitant but still craving touch. But not just any touch — her touch.

She remained still, very still, with her back turned. She didn't even realize that she was holding her breath until it whooshed out of her when she felt Kurt's lips on her shoulder, pressing against the bare part of skin that had come exposed beneath her slouching shirt and his cardigan.

That was enough for Lindy. She wasn't going to wait on him any longer to make a decision.

Turning around until she was against him, she felt relief when Kurt connected his arms around her and locked her in his embrace, preventing either of them from pulling away. She kissed him, sliding her hands up against his face and shuddering when she tasted his flavor, delicious and smoky.

"Don't go to sleep yet," Kurt pleaded against her mouth, his voice a raspy whisper. "I want you."

I want you too, she thought. She wanted to say it out loud, but she was too overwhelmed with her need for him to even speak. She wanted to show him rather than tell him just exactly what it was that she wanted.

His hands were removing the cardigan draped around her, tossing it to the floor. They snaked up up her shirt, icy against the warm heat radiating from the curve of her back. She could feel the cold metal of his wedding ring skimming across her skin. Even the prickle of the scruff coating his chin felt so damn good on her face, matched by the sensation of his lips kissing her everywhere.

In a rush to get him undressed, Lindy peeled away Kurt's clothes, scrambling to reveal every inch of him. The only sound in the room was their breathing, fast and thick with desire.

He was so beautiful. She'd called him beautiful at least once a day for so many years, but as he stood there in front of her on the first night of her honeymoon, she felt victorious to call him hers. The inhuman creature in front of her, blessed with talent, intelligence and beauty beyond measure but also simultaneously cursing himself for it, was hers.

His thin body, lined with the slightest sinews of muscle, made her lips tremble. It was pure madness just how badly she wanted to taste and kiss every trace of him. He'd covered himself disdainfully with multiple layers of clothing since she had met him, despising his appearance above all, but he had not one single idea what seeing him unclad did to her.

Kurt hooked his arm around Lindy's waist, lowering them both onto the bed. It was a far ways down due to the lack of a bed frame, something Lindy would have normally giggled over, but as her back pressed into the mattress she felt far from humorous. She wanted every second to keep coming until she'd will time to slow, just so she could make the night last forever.

Stripping away her jeans and shirt, Kurt's lips came in contact with the flat plain of her stomach, kissing downwards until they brushed the lacy upper band of her underwear that hugged her waist. His mouth kept moving, his hands pushing her knees astride so he could kiss in between her thighs eagerly. Lindy shivered, a half strangled, desperate moan breaking through her mashed together lips.

"You're shaking," Kurt observed softly, stroking his fingertips from her breast towards her hips as if to illustrate the quivering ripple of her body.

"And you're not?" Lindy panted, gripping a handful of the blanket beneath her. She was desperate to know what it would feel like, having him inside of her after all that time.

Kurt crawled forward, laying down gently on top of Lindy so that there was no space between them. His eyes, somehow always so serious no matter the occasion, pierced deeply into hers. They spoke volumes of how he felt. Words were not even necessary then, though he'd still speak, just so she could hear the sound of his voice and feel the warm breath of his words on her face.

"I've waited a really long time for this, Lindy."

"Eight months is really long."

"No. I've been dreaming about what this night would be like since the day I met you. When I knew I was going to marry you."

Lindy felt her heart stutter, a knee-jerk reaction to Kurt's sentiment. She slid her hand against the back of his head, tangling her fingers in the blonde hair that she loved waking up to on her pillow every morning.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I'm going to make you so happy," Kurt promised. His hand had inched down her body again, but this time he ignored the delicate fabric of her underwear as his fingers pushed past the waistband.

She figured his words had a double meaning, especially because of the current positioning of his hand. But the most important thing was that Lindy believed Kurt. She had no more reason to doubt him, and although he'd vowed to make her happy, she had her own promise to hold true to, and that was that she was going to make him happy right back.

END OF PART 2