Lauryl
The Fly
Here's chapter 7, and as always this is all lies- even the part about Bono having lucky pajamas, which I doubt he does. Sorry this took so long. Hey, I'm writing an Adam story and a Morleigh/Edge semiPWP, do you want them as they come or shall I finish Caught By The Heel first?
*
Chapter 7: The Soul Waits
*
Miranda awoke slowly, slower than she had in years, it seemed. The first sense that returned to her was touch... she felt warm and completely relaxed. The second and third senses floated back at the same time: sound and smell. A light, woodsy and utterly masculine scent was all around her, and she could hear, ever so slightly, deep breathing. Bono.
This surprised her enough to open her eyes- straight into Bono's face. With a barely muffled squeak, she fell off the bed.
Miranda stood up woozily and looked at him. He was on his stomach with a smile on his face... and he was shirtless. She wasn't sure she wanted to know what else he was "less".
As much as she wanted to, there was no chance of getting back in bed without waking him, so she hurried out to the balcony to clear her head and recollect the events of last night. When the early morning air hit her, she noticed that she wore last night's baggy cotton pants and one of Bono's shirts. Not just any shirt, she pondered with a smile, but the pink one. It was soft and well-worn, and even though she wouldn't be caught dead wearing pink in public, she felt like she never wanted to take it off.
The memory of last night slowly drifted back. Clam chowder, the sunlight behind the seagulls' wings and Bono's hair, the way she felt when he hugged her. No one had ever made her feel as... loved... with a simple hug. She remembered eating chocolate and walking so close to him, and collapsing under him when Larry mauled them. They'd been so close together, and when Bono pressed that simple kiss on the corner of her mouth, she wouldn't have been able to stand if he hadn't been holding onto her. Then, helping Larry and Gwen into the hotel - relieving Gwen of her dress when Larry relieved himself of his stomach contents on it - making her a bed on the sofa - finally realising it was past three thirty in the morning. She'd just barely caught Bono's mischievous wink before passing out cold on the nearest soft surface, which happened to be Bono's bed.
*
As Bono woke up he almost exploded with joy when he recalled that the angel in his bed wasn't a dream, but when he opened his eyes, he found himself alone. While dragging himself off to brush his teeth he burst into a grin when he saw Miranda on the balcony, the morning breeze playing with her already messy hair. He'd wanted to wake her up with tiny kisses all over her face, but oh well; he was far from losing hope. He'd seduce that woman if it took him until they were eighty.
Last night he'd come so close. Her words "God, it's almost four" had been music to his ears, and he didn't miss a beat- "Too bad we only have one sofa; I suppose you and I will have to share my bed!" But when he came out of the bathroom in his lucky black pajama pants, she'd been out cold.
She'd looked like a little puppy all curled up on her side like that. He'd wanted to crawl in behind her and wrap his arms around her... he would have if she hadn't looked so exhausted. So he waited for morning. In which he -the idiot that he is, thought he- slept right through his chance with her.
Gwen's squeal broke him out of his frustrated reverie. "My God, it's huge!"
He sighed around his toothbrush. "Put some clothes on, Adam!"
Still half asleep, Gwen called back. "He's not here. But there's an enormous bouquet sitting here on the table."
Bono shuffled out to see a radiant array of flowers in all shades of pink and orange. "Why, thank you, Gwen! You shouldn't have."
She giggled but instantly regretted it, lying back on the sofa and covering her head with a pillow. When she emerged, Larry was coming out of his room fiddling with his earring. She grinned at him. "Are these from you?"
He smiled back, looking embarrassed. "Yeah. I'm so sorry for throwing up on your dress."
"You threw up on my dress?" Shrugging, she looked down at herself, noticing she wore her slip and one of Larry's white t-shirts. "Don't remember that. The only thing I remember..."
She grinned suddenly and glanced at Bono, who decided it was time to retreat back to his room. Larry sat on the sofa when she curled up her feet for him.
"What do you remember?"
"What do YOU remember?"
"Only seeing Miranda carrying your dress around and thinking it was the rapture."
"Well..." She bit her lip and smirked slowly. "This is the only thing I remember."
She leaned in, holding his shoulder, and pressed her lips against his. His eyes widened and his grin threatened to ruin their kiss.
"Wow. Now I remember." They bumped noses and he ran his fingers through her hair. "I've tried a lot of hangover cures but I think this one takes the cake."
"Mmmm. Oh! goodness, I must look absolutely terrifying..." She started to stand up but he grabbed her and eased her onto her back, both of them sinking into the cushy sofa.
"I don't think so," he said with another broad grin, and leaned down to kiss her before she could spring away again.
*
Miranda gave a shout when she felt arms around her waist. "Ack! You freaked me out. I didn't even hear you come out here."
Bono nuzzled against her. "I've got natural feline grace, babyface. Mrow."
She tried to ignore the utter sexyness of what he was doing and twisted to look at him with a raised eyebrow. "'Feline grace, babyface?'"
He gave her an impish smile and went back to his administrations upon her neck and ear. "My, oh, my. I'm a poet and I didn't know it."
She groaned- and not entirely because of the pun. "That is possibly the cheesiest thing ev.... Are you PURRING?"
"Mm hmm. You smell like morning."
He hadn't shaved and his scratchy jaw was sending electric surges up and down her body. When he finally sunk his teeth into that spot between her throat and shoulder, she couldn't hold back a moan.
"Am I turning you on, love?" His voice was breathy in her ear, making him into a scratchier version of the Fly.
Yes, yes, YES, "No!"
"No? Dear, dear!" So fecking sure of himself, she mused with little disgust, as he only smiled playfully and buried his face in her hair. "I know that scent... don't tell me..."
"Juniper," she said, taking a mischievous pleasure in bursting his bubble now that she could breathe again.
He stopped and craned his head around her shoulder to look at her. "You're not being very cooperative."
She looked back. "And what would you have me do if I were as 'cooperative' as you'd like?"
"Oh, I'd have to think about that."
"Well, shall I come back when you've thought about that?" Don't say yes, don't say yes.
"Yes, though I'd like my shirt back before you go." His fingers were working her top button.
...His fingers were working her top button.
And his thumbs were brushing against her chest.
And he was moving ever so slowly, making more purring noises with his mouth brushing against her ear.
She couldn't stand this. Grasping his hands, stopping them, she twisted out of his embrace. "Listen, I'm not your plaything."
He was enjoying this. "Not 'just' my plaything, you say?"
"No! I'm not a slut, Bono."
Oh... she was serious. "I know. I don't see you as one."
"So what were you doing unbuttoning my shirt?"
"I, uh. I thought you wanted me to."
She sighed and turned to look out across the city. Didn't she want nothing more to have him tear that pink monstrosity off of her and have him take her right on this balcony for all San Fransisco to see? She remembered just two years ago when her father had screamed at her for hours when he'd caught her making out with her then boyfriend. "Filthy little slut", he'd called her. Now she was more confused than she wanted to think about.
She looked at him apologetically. "I'm sorry, Bono, it's not that... I'm really sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. I just don't want to look like a slut, and I'd feel weird being around anyone who was. Wait, I didn't mean that at all, I was trying to s-"
But Bono was shushing her with laughter dancing in his eyes. His finger was to his mouth, so she held still and collected her thoughts, listening to whatever he was calling her attention to. And sure enough, they barely heard Gwen give a drawn-out gasp... from Larry's window.
Miranda collapsed into silent giggles behind her hands.
"Besides Gwen, right?" Laughed Bono. He raised his voice. "Hey, guys, get a room!" He got a volley of curses and a moment later, the slam of a window. Bono shrugged at Miranda. "Happens all the time. In this rock star lifestyle, that is, not with Larry. So you think I'm a slut?"
She grinned up at him, pinkfaced but suddenly at ease. "But that's not what I meant. I dunno what I meant..."
"I know what you meant. And I'm not trying to turn you into a slut, really... If you were, I wouldn't be interested in you."
She smiled at him, an evil thought dawning on her that she knew would only backfire. "All right... prove it. I wanna see how long it takes for you to get tired of me and look for someone easier."
"Oho, you've found my weakness."
"What?"
"Independent women. Feisty, you know. I love a challenge."
She chuckled at him. "I see right through you, Bono."
He laughed. It was more of a giggle, actually. It would have been absolutely effeminate on anyone else. "No, I'm serious."
"Whatever." She nudged his arm; it was just a quick bump against his side. She'd grown addicted to his little ways of sneaking in physical contact and didn't want him to think she expected him to stop.
He bumped her back. "I love that thing you have sometimes- 'Like, whatEVER, dude.'"
She shook her head. "Nope, you're still not getting into my pants."
"Wouldn't want to anyway, I look funny in baggy pants. Let's go get breakfast, I'm starving!"
*
Chapter 7: The Soul Waits
*
Miranda awoke slowly, slower than she had in years, it seemed. The first sense that returned to her was touch... she felt warm and completely relaxed. The second and third senses floated back at the same time: sound and smell. A light, woodsy and utterly masculine scent was all around her, and she could hear, ever so slightly, deep breathing. Bono.
This surprised her enough to open her eyes- straight into Bono's face. With a barely muffled squeak, she fell off the bed.
Miranda stood up woozily and looked at him. He was on his stomach with a smile on his face... and he was shirtless. She wasn't sure she wanted to know what else he was "less".
As much as she wanted to, there was no chance of getting back in bed without waking him, so she hurried out to the balcony to clear her head and recollect the events of last night. When the early morning air hit her, she noticed that she wore last night's baggy cotton pants and one of Bono's shirts. Not just any shirt, she pondered with a smile, but the pink one. It was soft and well-worn, and even though she wouldn't be caught dead wearing pink in public, she felt like she never wanted to take it off.
The memory of last night slowly drifted back. Clam chowder, the sunlight behind the seagulls' wings and Bono's hair, the way she felt when he hugged her. No one had ever made her feel as... loved... with a simple hug. She remembered eating chocolate and walking so close to him, and collapsing under him when Larry mauled them. They'd been so close together, and when Bono pressed that simple kiss on the corner of her mouth, she wouldn't have been able to stand if he hadn't been holding onto her. Then, helping Larry and Gwen into the hotel - relieving Gwen of her dress when Larry relieved himself of his stomach contents on it - making her a bed on the sofa - finally realising it was past three thirty in the morning. She'd just barely caught Bono's mischievous wink before passing out cold on the nearest soft surface, which happened to be Bono's bed.
*
As Bono woke up he almost exploded with joy when he recalled that the angel in his bed wasn't a dream, but when he opened his eyes, he found himself alone. While dragging himself off to brush his teeth he burst into a grin when he saw Miranda on the balcony, the morning breeze playing with her already messy hair. He'd wanted to wake her up with tiny kisses all over her face, but oh well; he was far from losing hope. He'd seduce that woman if it took him until they were eighty.
Last night he'd come so close. Her words "God, it's almost four" had been music to his ears, and he didn't miss a beat- "Too bad we only have one sofa; I suppose you and I will have to share my bed!" But when he came out of the bathroom in his lucky black pajama pants, she'd been out cold.
She'd looked like a little puppy all curled up on her side like that. He'd wanted to crawl in behind her and wrap his arms around her... he would have if she hadn't looked so exhausted. So he waited for morning. In which he -the idiot that he is, thought he- slept right through his chance with her.
Gwen's squeal broke him out of his frustrated reverie. "My God, it's huge!"
He sighed around his toothbrush. "Put some clothes on, Adam!"
Still half asleep, Gwen called back. "He's not here. But there's an enormous bouquet sitting here on the table."
Bono shuffled out to see a radiant array of flowers in all shades of pink and orange. "Why, thank you, Gwen! You shouldn't have."
She giggled but instantly regretted it, lying back on the sofa and covering her head with a pillow. When she emerged, Larry was coming out of his room fiddling with his earring. She grinned at him. "Are these from you?"
He smiled back, looking embarrassed. "Yeah. I'm so sorry for throwing up on your dress."
"You threw up on my dress?" Shrugging, she looked down at herself, noticing she wore her slip and one of Larry's white t-shirts. "Don't remember that. The only thing I remember..."
She grinned suddenly and glanced at Bono, who decided it was time to retreat back to his room. Larry sat on the sofa when she curled up her feet for him.
"What do you remember?"
"What do YOU remember?"
"Only seeing Miranda carrying your dress around and thinking it was the rapture."
"Well..." She bit her lip and smirked slowly. "This is the only thing I remember."
She leaned in, holding his shoulder, and pressed her lips against his. His eyes widened and his grin threatened to ruin their kiss.
"Wow. Now I remember." They bumped noses and he ran his fingers through her hair. "I've tried a lot of hangover cures but I think this one takes the cake."
"Mmmm. Oh! goodness, I must look absolutely terrifying..." She started to stand up but he grabbed her and eased her onto her back, both of them sinking into the cushy sofa.
"I don't think so," he said with another broad grin, and leaned down to kiss her before she could spring away again.
*
Miranda gave a shout when she felt arms around her waist. "Ack! You freaked me out. I didn't even hear you come out here."
Bono nuzzled against her. "I've got natural feline grace, babyface. Mrow."
She tried to ignore the utter sexyness of what he was doing and twisted to look at him with a raised eyebrow. "'Feline grace, babyface?'"
He gave her an impish smile and went back to his administrations upon her neck and ear. "My, oh, my. I'm a poet and I didn't know it."
She groaned- and not entirely because of the pun. "That is possibly the cheesiest thing ev.... Are you PURRING?"
"Mm hmm. You smell like morning."
He hadn't shaved and his scratchy jaw was sending electric surges up and down her body. When he finally sunk his teeth into that spot between her throat and shoulder, she couldn't hold back a moan.
"Am I turning you on, love?" His voice was breathy in her ear, making him into a scratchier version of the Fly.
Yes, yes, YES, "No!"
"No? Dear, dear!" So fecking sure of himself, she mused with little disgust, as he only smiled playfully and buried his face in her hair. "I know that scent... don't tell me..."
"Juniper," she said, taking a mischievous pleasure in bursting his bubble now that she could breathe again.
He stopped and craned his head around her shoulder to look at her. "You're not being very cooperative."
She looked back. "And what would you have me do if I were as 'cooperative' as you'd like?"
"Oh, I'd have to think about that."
"Well, shall I come back when you've thought about that?" Don't say yes, don't say yes.
"Yes, though I'd like my shirt back before you go." His fingers were working her top button.
...His fingers were working her top button.
And his thumbs were brushing against her chest.
And he was moving ever so slowly, making more purring noises with his mouth brushing against her ear.
She couldn't stand this. Grasping his hands, stopping them, she twisted out of his embrace. "Listen, I'm not your plaything."
He was enjoying this. "Not 'just' my plaything, you say?"
"No! I'm not a slut, Bono."
Oh... she was serious. "I know. I don't see you as one."
"So what were you doing unbuttoning my shirt?"
"I, uh. I thought you wanted me to."
She sighed and turned to look out across the city. Didn't she want nothing more to have him tear that pink monstrosity off of her and have him take her right on this balcony for all San Fransisco to see? She remembered just two years ago when her father had screamed at her for hours when he'd caught her making out with her then boyfriend. "Filthy little slut", he'd called her. Now she was more confused than she wanted to think about.
She looked at him apologetically. "I'm sorry, Bono, it's not that... I'm really sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. I just don't want to look like a slut, and I'd feel weird being around anyone who was. Wait, I didn't mean that at all, I was trying to s-"
But Bono was shushing her with laughter dancing in his eyes. His finger was to his mouth, so she held still and collected her thoughts, listening to whatever he was calling her attention to. And sure enough, they barely heard Gwen give a drawn-out gasp... from Larry's window.
Miranda collapsed into silent giggles behind her hands.
"Besides Gwen, right?" Laughed Bono. He raised his voice. "Hey, guys, get a room!" He got a volley of curses and a moment later, the slam of a window. Bono shrugged at Miranda. "Happens all the time. In this rock star lifestyle, that is, not with Larry. So you think I'm a slut?"
She grinned up at him, pinkfaced but suddenly at ease. "But that's not what I meant. I dunno what I meant..."
"I know what you meant. And I'm not trying to turn you into a slut, really... If you were, I wouldn't be interested in you."
She smiled at him, an evil thought dawning on her that she knew would only backfire. "All right... prove it. I wanna see how long it takes for you to get tired of me and look for someone easier."
"Oho, you've found my weakness."
"What?"
"Independent women. Feisty, you know. I love a challenge."
She chuckled at him. "I see right through you, Bono."
He laughed. It was more of a giggle, actually. It would have been absolutely effeminate on anyone else. "No, I'm serious."
"Whatever." She nudged his arm; it was just a quick bump against his side. She'd grown addicted to his little ways of sneaking in physical contact and didn't want him to think she expected him to stop.
He bumped her back. "I love that thing you have sometimes- 'Like, whatEVER, dude.'"
She shook her head. "Nope, you're still not getting into my pants."
"Wouldn't want to anyway, I look funny in baggy pants. Let's go get breakfast, I'm starving!"
Last edited:
