Unfaithful: Naive (Bill Skarsgård)
He had more than enough to drink.
His vision switched between normal and disoriented, he walked with a slight wobble in his step and he could not keep the drunken smile off his face.
Alex had just left with a redhead he had met that night. He said goodbye to Bill and checked to make sure his brother would be able to get home safely, to which the younger Skarsgård assured him was no issue; his shared apartment was only three blocks away.
“Double whiskey.” He said to the bartender.
The bald man nodded and began to fix his drink.
It was then that a woman around his age slid into the seat beside him. She was tall for a female, had sterling grey eyes, champagne blonde hair and wore a dark smokey eye.
Bill looked at the woman and gave her a small smile, causing her to smirk in response.
“You’re here alone?” She wondered.
He nodded, “My brother just left.”
The barman set the glass of whiskey in front of Bill before turning to fix someone else’s drinks.
She twirled the ends of her wavy, long locks and stared into his eyes, giving him the sexy smolder she had perfected over the years. “What do you say to heading somewhere too?” She pressed.
“Like?” He asked stupidly; completely wasted.
His ignorance only made her smile grow wider, “Let’s start with the bathroom.”
She stood and took his large hand in hers, pulled him off his chair and led him to the single stall restroom. He stumbled along behind her, long legs unable to function like usual.
The blonde took him into the nearest bathroom and quickly shut the door behind them. She pushed him against the wall and captured his lips roughly. He kissed her back with the same amount of passion.
Then he straightened, becoming taller than her, and lost her lips. She gave him an annoyed look, one he could not fully comprehend due to his intoxicated state.
“I have a girlfriend.” He slurred.
She quirked a brow before putting a hand on him, rubbing her smooth fingers over fabric of his black trousers. “She can’t fuck you like I can.” She promised.
The image of his lover slowly disappeared from his mind, it took too much effort to even see it in the first place. He caved.
“And how would you?” He countered, breathing beginning to rise by her actions.
She pretended to think, he was just really too easy to play with.
“I’m going to give you a blow job. Then, I’ll let you fuck me from behind against this wall.” She slapped her hand against the cold tile near his face, holding it there and leaning closer to him. “I want you to be as rough as you can be. Does she let you fuck her roughly? Would she let you take her mercilessly?” She wondered, gaze fixed nowhere but his pale eyes which darkened by the second.
“No, not always anyways. She’s not like that.” He answered, almost groaning at the way she was touching him.
She smirked, “Then let me help you.”
His gaze did not leave hers as she unzipped his pants and knelt down in front of him. Her eyes were gleaming as she took him in her mouth, causing his head to loll back against the subway tiled wall.
“Fuck.” He swore, taking a hold of her hair and guiding her deeper.
It felt good; he was enjoying her pleasuring him.
He shut his eyes and gave himself to her.
She did not want to tell her friend about what had happened, she would only begin to cry if she did.
She did not want to cry, especially not over him.
So after greeting and thanking her friend for letting her stay for however long she needed, she let herself into the guest bedroom.
She was tired, so very tired. Exhaustion took over her whole body, causing her to flop down on the bed the second she peeled off all of her clothes. Today, she was going to have a nice, deep sleep; one that was not disturbed by wondering where her boyfriend was, if he was safe and when he would be coming home.
No, she was not going to deal with that.
The moment she let her lids fall shut, sleep overcame her welcomingly.
The hot water fell from the rainfall shower head, fogging up the usually transparent glass. The air was thick with humidity, which did not relieve her breathing one bit as her boyfriend went down on her.
Her back was pressed up against the once cool glass, now coated in a sheen of mist, and her free hand desperately attempted to grasp the wall.
She glanced down at him, eyes hazy yet lustful, and found that his eyes met hers, dark and passionate as he pleasured her. He wanted to watch her as she writhed under his touch, moaned his name and fought to keep standing even though her legs were on their way to shaking violently.
He slung her left leg over his shoulder, giving himself better access to her heat as he knelt in front of her. She clutched onto his shoulder for dear life, waiting a few moments to get used to the new and far more compromising position she stood in, then finally let go; leaning her head back against the warm glass and closing her eyes.
“Bill…” She moaned, melting in his touch.
He pleasured her for a few moments longer before pulling out, placing a kiss on her and then standing; hands running up her body as he did. Those large hands stopped at her breasts, cupping them, and her eyes dazed open. They were still cloudy with desire and exhaustion, which turned him on even more. Her eyes met is and they stood like that for a second, staring at each other, neither saying a single word. Her heart pounded at his closeness, breasts heaving more quickly, which he felt and smiled at; he could make her feel this way.
“I- I love you.” She said breathlessly, looking up at his towering figure.
He slid his hands from her breasts to her neck, up until he cradled her jaw with both hands. Her eyes watched him as he went, landing on his lips before he pressed them against hers.
“I love you.” He echoed back.
Suddenly, he bent down slightly, picked her up by her thighs, and moved to the other end of the large shower; water cascaded over their bodies.
The two lovers kissed feverishly under the hot water, hair slicked back and her hands holding onto his upper back tightly for support. They were in their own world entirely, nothing mattered but them, and they kissed as if it was their last night alive.
“I want you. All of you.” She moaned in between kisses.
“Mm. You’re all I need.” He responded, entering her immediately.
Her cries were muffled by his lips.
“All I need.” He swore to her, hips rolling against hers rapidly.
A particularly hard trust had her leaning into his chest, forehead resting against his and he took a hold of her hair, pulling her back. They looked into each other’s eyes while he took her deeply.
She woke with a start.
The memory filled her with bitterness. Clearly, she did not know.
The ring of his mobile swept him from his thoughts.
It was ‘Dad’ as the screen indicated. Shit.
He reached for his phone and pressed ACCEPT. "Hey.” He answered quietly.
“Bill! Where are you both? Is the traffic bad?” Stellan asked enthusiastically, excited to see his son and his son’s partner at the party.
It was painful to hear someone sound so delighted to hear his voice. He felt like he deserved no love, no one to care for him. He surely did not care about her whilst the blonde was on the verge of making him come.
“No, Dad we uh- won’t be making it.” He said dejectedly.
His father caught onto his son’s depressed tone.
“What happened? Are things not well between you two?” He pressed lightly.
Bill’s breath hitched in his throat, emitting a strangled sound. No, things are very unwell, and it’s all my fault.
“I messed up, Dad. I really messed up.” He cried, tears welling in his pale eyes.
“Bill… what happened?” Stellan asked, heart breaking listening to his son’s voice. No father ever wanted their child to sound so upset and troubled.
It became clear to Bill that not only was he devastated that he had lost her, he was embarrassed; embarrassed that he could not treat her in the way she deserved to be treated. He had promised to love her forever.
He hiccuped before speaking: "I cheated on her last night.“
He looked at the ashtray on the table to his right as he waited for his father to say something and saw the cigarette remains, another reminder of how he had failed her. It was all too much for him to handle.
“She started smoking again, Dad! She stopped a year ago and she was so goddamn happy about it. I drove her to do this again. I fucking did this to her!” He grieved.
It was in that moment he realized he could not stand to look at the cigarettes beside him. It was almost as if he could picture her: alone in the dark, rain pounding against the window, the cloud of grey smoke drifting through the room. He saw her eyes, hollow and lifeless, and her fingers, loosely holding the cigarette as she lifted it to her lips, devoid of all emotion. She did this over and over again until she grew too tired to even stand.
He grabbed the ashtray and strode to the kitchen, opened the cabinet under the sink and threw the tray into the garbage bin.
“You shouldn’t have done that, Bill. I am disappointed in you.” His father scolded, yet he sounded softer than he could have been.
He sunk to the floor, hand gripping his cellphone fiercely, and sniffed.
“Let her be for some while… I know this will be hard on you both. Give it time.” The older and much wiser Skarsgård told him.
Bill nodded, even though his father could not see him.
After ending the call, he ambled to their bedroom- her bedroom as it had just become again, and started to pack some clothes. He decided he would listen to his father and give her the space she needed, the space she deserved.