Fic: RPF: You Look Great When I’m F**ked Up (1/?).

[x_moonshine_x]

Title: You Look Great When I’m F**ked Up (1/?).
Author: x_moonshine_x
Pairing: Rupert/Emma.
Rating: R.
Warnings: Real person fiction, lots of angst, depressed!Emma, off the rails!Emma.
Word count: 3,353.
Summary: After a hard day filming, Rupert offers to take a battered and bruised Emma home, ending up with a little more than he bargained for when they get there. On the face of it, it all seems pretty simple, they’ve wanted each other for years, surely this is normal. But, unfortunately, he soon learns that there’s more going on than meets the eye and he's not entirely sure if he's the one Emma should be turning to.
A/N: My writers block somehow turned into this, no idea how lol. This of course, was supposed to be an extremely smutty one-shot, although it’s turned into some… well, I can’t explain it, you’ll see!

You Look Great When I’m F**ked Up
Chapter 1

Running and more running, they had done nothing else all day. Barely hitting the third take that afternoon and already he couldn’t quite catch his breath, chest aching as he crouched over, hands on his legs and fighting to regain normality once more.

‘Everyone OK? Good, let’s go again!’

The pain he felt, completely irrelevant as far as David was concerned. He needed to make more time for working out, that was all. Do an extra half an hour more on the treadmill every week. Add a few more lengths of the pool, five more press-ups, build up his stamina.

Ten seconds later and her hand was in his, palms sweaty and slippery as they fought their way through the tree branches, stumbling over roots and getting their knees dirty as they stumbled again and again.

Rupert didn’t call this kind of work acting. Running through some fake trees looking scared, it was hardly backbreaking stuff. Although Emma seemed to be having some trouble with it, as for the fifth time that day, she’d fallen over her own feet and tumbled to the ground with a soft, ‘Oof!’ He lifted her back to standing, having still had a firm grip on her hand, and her body came crashing into his. He held onto her, comforting warmth radiating through the thin shirt she wore and making him hyperaware of how close they were now.

Not liking it when people fussed over her, Emma was quick to push him away though and looked down, hiding her painfully confused expression behind her hair. He stepped back, eyes joining hers in gazing at the ground.

This went on well into the evening, the same sequence of events over and over again, and by the time David finally wrapped filming for the day, he could tell from her posture alone, she was mere seconds from tears. When he made a move to go after her, he found himself quickly intercepted by someone from costume and had to wait his turn, sidling off to the side and turning his attention to his mobile instead.

Always second fiddle to the mass.

By the time Rupert got even remotely close to her, Emma was half way up the steps of her trailer and tearing her costume from her slim frame. He paused hesitantly, his teeth cutting into his bottom lip as he stood there in the middle of the yard.

‘Em?’

She span, shirt clutched tightly to her chest, the sudden intrusion taking her by surprise. ‘Rupes, hi!’ she squeaked. ‘What do you want?’

‘Oh, umm… Sorry.’ The words spilled from his lips awkwardly and he took a tentative step toward her, testing the waters. She didn’t back off and he took it as a good sign. ‘Just wondered if you wanted a lift home instead of taking a car tonight,’ he said.

Relief washed over her face immediately and through the mud and smeared make-up, she smiled, her eyes sparkling. ‘I’d love that actually,’ she told him softly. ‘Shall I meet you in the car park in fifteen minutes?’

Rupert nodded and ceased his approach, grasping for something – anything – witty to say. ‘Yeah, should probably change,’ he just about managed, pulling on his sweater. ‘Don’t think this is doing me any favours.’

‘Was it supposed to?’ questioned Emma innocently before disappearing into her trailer.

Once out of sight and now laughing softly, he darted off to change into something a little more comfortable, making sure that he was already sat in the mini by the time she joined him. She slid elegantly into the passenger seat, resting her bag in her lap and crossing her legs beneath her as she looked his way. ‘Thank you for this,’ she murmured. ‘After today, company would be nice...’

He knew exactly what she meant. It had been a tough day, sitting alone in the back of a car with a driver you didn’t know, wouldn’t be all that appealing to anyone.

The drive back took longer than Rupert anticipated and thirty minutes in, they found themselves stuck in a traffic jam on the motorway. He turned on the radio to avoid any awkward silences, but realised several seconds later that Emma was already out for the count, her forehead pressed to the glass of the window as she dozed. The cars in the opposite lane continued to speed past, the interior of the mini lighting up like they were caught in the middle of an electric storm, casting eerie shadows over his co-star’s features. He watched, mesmerised, eyes glazing over as night fell.

When he pulled up outside her house and killed the engine, a deathly silence fell over the car and he drew a breath apprehensively, reaching out to touch her arm.

Emma stirred a second later, turning her head and looking up at him with tired eyes. ‘Did I fall asleep?’ she mumbled, rubbing her forehead gently. ‘Sorry, I’m a horrible passenger, say I want someone to talk to and drop to sleep on you.’

‘No, you’re not… don’t worry,’ Rupert laughed, hopping out of the car at the same time she did and heading up to the front door, keeping her company for the time being.

They met on the step, fumbling around for keys in the darkness, the awkwardness Rupert thought might occur not daring to make itself known until the very last when she paused, hesitantly, a foot over the threshold. ‘Did you want to come in?’ she questioned, her words almost lost in the night. ‘It’s getting late; I could make you a coffee or… something. I don’t know.’

The final word hung in the air longer than he planned it to and several moments later, he draped his jacket over the back of the couch, following Emma into the living room.

‘Well, you know where everything is,’ she said suddenly and he found himself being ushered towards the kitchen. He was knocked from his trace, blinking dumbly as she continued. ‘I’m going to run a bath and-’

‘Did you want one?’

Emma stopped on the bottom step, turning back to him, her hand poised over the banister rail. ‘Sorry?’

Swallowing, he ran a hand through his hair, wondering where his nerves were suddenly coming from. He’d been perfectly fine before. ‘A drink, did you want one?’ he repeated steadily, offering her an understanding smile.

‘Oh.’ She flushed, starting up the staircase once more. ‘Yes, please… thank you.’

Rupert couldn’t help his anxious laugh as she turned her back to him and with a shake of his head, retreated into the family kitchen, opening and closing cupboards as he tracked everything down. It took a while; Emma thinking that he knew where everything was couldn’t have been further from the truth. He hadn’t been here in a while. More recently, things had been a little weird. Emma’s constant sea of admirers always seemed to put paid to their friendship off set and he rarely found himself invited over.

Finally, fifteen minutes later, he began to tentatively make his way up the staircase (mugs in hand), listening to the sound of running water coming from the other side of the bathroom door. Maybe he had been stupid to think that Emma would come down and fetch her drink before taking a bath, even though (to him at least), that seemed like the most logical thing to do.

He placed his own coffee down on the nearby windowsill and reached out to knock on the door, calling out, ‘Emma, coffee? I’ll just leave it here-’

‘Bring it in!’

The shout took him by surprise and he started, spilling the hot drink all over his hand and cursing under his breath before quickly doing what she asked.

Stepping into the room, slowly, Rupert hitched in a breath as his gaze fell upon Emma. He didn’t mean to stare, but he couldn’t look away, stood stock still, drinking her in. She’d curled herself into a ball in such a way that he couldn’t see anything, his mind telling him it was OK and his nerves ebbing away. Yet, at the same time, his body couldn’t argue the fact that Emma was sat naked in front of him and as he placed her coffee down, he had to close his eyes to compose himself and his hormones.

‘Are you OK?’ he asked timidly, crouching down on the floor beside the bath and settling there so that they could talk. He’d noticed the array of bruises marking her milky skin immediately. Well, how could he not? Ignoring it completely was out of the question. ‘Today wasn’t exactly easy on you, Em…’

She shook her head, turning to look at him and it was then he could see that she’d been crying, her cheeks blotchy and red, and eyes bloodshot. ‘I’m just tired, Rupes, that’s all,’ she uttered, awkwardly lifting a hand up to wipe her tears. ‘This week’s been, I don’t know, rather emotionally draining.’

Rupert nodded, he felt it too and he was certain they wouldn’t be the only ones feeling it either. The whole process they were going through with these last two films, every day he felt the end nearing and one day soon, it would be the last and they’d have to say goodbye for good. There would be no coming back to this, once part two was wrapped, they were done… forever. Whether they kept in touch after that was up to them, and in all honestly, not knowing scared him to death.

‘Can you wash my hair for me?’

It came out of nowhere and as he considered asking Emma to repeat herself (in case he’d imagined it), she handed a jug over to him quelling his need to, her eyes silently encouraging. He took it, no questions asked and moved onto his knees, very gently carrying out the task. Slowly, tenderly, he trailed his fingers through her sandy hair, eyes trained on her face as she tipped her head back, relaxing completely.

He blinked, avoiding eye contact and concentrating on the matter in hand, his fingers teasing her hair as the water ran through it. Droplets bounced ever downwards, streams cascading over her shoulders and licking her collarbone. He had to swallow hard to keep his mind from wandering, as well as his gaze. Perhaps this hadn’t been such a good idea after all, he should have said no when she gave him chance.

When Emma eventually stepped from of the tub, Rupert turned his head away but held a towel out for her, taking her into his arms once she was wrapped up. He rubbed her arms briskly, helping her dry off and she gazed up at him, eyes wide as saucers in pure, unadulterated amazement. Right now, in this moment, she reminded him of a child. Lost and alone, holding out for someone to show some kind of affection and prove that they cared.

‘Rupes…’

It took a while for her quiet whisper to register with him and when he looked down into her eyes, he was too late for any kind of protest, kind or otherwise. Emma’s lips found his in a tender kiss, her arms crushed between them as she pressed closer, seeking out his warmth. He hesitated, but only briefly, and then his arms encircled her waist and he pulled her flush against him, his own enthusiastic return taking them both by surprise.

She moaned beneath him, inching up onto her tiptoes, and he let his tongue glide over her lips, burning to taste her. Beneath his ribcage, his heart was pounding, beating so hard and fast that he had trouble making out anything but the sound of blood rushing past his ears. Thump, thump, thump. It was so loud, too loud in fact and he felt dizzy from the feel of her alone.

Hands sliding over her damp skin and up into her hair, Rupert smiled into the kiss. He’d imagined this many times before today, but his dreams were nowhere near as good as the real thing. Nothing he could come up with would ever rival the feel of Emma’s heart beating alongside his. The way her nimble fingers attacked the buttons of his shirt and the taste of her skin as he leant down to suckle on her exposed shoulder.

He found it impossible to say no and realising that she obviously wanted him as much as he wanted her, only succeeded in spurring him on.

‘Bedroom…’

‘I – I’m sorry, what?’ He blinked himself out of his stupor.

‘Bedroom, Rupert.’

Not a request, but a demand as Emma tore his shirt from his frame. Her lips were so close to his that he could feel them trembling. She continued to gaze up at him; such honesty reflected in her eyes that it scared him witless.

‘Is that really – do you honestly – Em?’

She stopped her actions dead, stepping away from him and raking pearly whites over swollen and kiss bruised lips. Her chest rose and fell steadily and Rupert had to work hard to keep his eyes on hers. ‘Is it so hard to believe that I want you to make love to me?’ she questioned on an apprehensive breath.

Completely unaware that as the seconds ticked by his expression was becoming more and more confused; Rupert backed away from her and ran his hands through his hair, trying (in vain) to buy himself some thinking time. A pointless exercise, he didn’t need to think about it at all, he’d wanted Emma for as long as he could remember. Maybe even longer than that if he really considered it.

Another moment of uncertainty followed, then he reached for her hand, leading the way to her bedroom and sweeping her up into his arms upon reaching it.

The towel he so gently dried her with earlier fell to the floor, forgotten. He explored every inch of her, his fingertips deftly tracing the curve of her spine and seeking to cradle her head as he kissed her deeply, passionately, with conviction.

Butterflies flapped wildly in his stomach, but he pushed the nerves aside and dropped Emma onto the bed, quickly following suit and falling to his knees in front of her.

Rupert watched apprehension wash over her features and as she opened her mouth to question, he placed a finger to her lips, the words dying on the very tip of her tongue. If she asked, he’d lose the nerve, something he wouldn’t and couldn’t do.

Pressing a ghostlike kiss to the inside of her thigh, he let his eyes fall closed as he heard her sharp intake of breath, the soft sound reverberating in his ears. He grasped for reality, fingers slipping skilfully over her skin, lips following their trail in a blaze of heat. Her encouragement bounced off the walls, pulled at his hair and squirmed beneath him. And he revelled in every single second of it.

He stopped when she fell silent, when she gave up questioning and arguing. His pale eyes moved to stare intently at the girl he’d called his best friend for so, so long, now spread-eagle before him and more vulnerable then he ever imagined she could be. In the throws of passion, she was even more beautiful than he thought humanly possible. The faintest blush stained her cheeks and her chest continued to rise and fall steadily, fingers tangled tightly in the bed sheets. Tiny beads of sweat dotted her forehead and her teeth cut so deeply into her lip, he was sure she’d drawn blood.

‘Why… have you stopped?’ breathed Emma, eyes fluttering open as she in turn gazed down at him. ‘Please… don’t.’

Heart racing ten to the dozen, Rupert swallowed down the nerves he’d fought so hard to hide and said nothing, instead lowering his head back down. The first swipe of his tongue made her shudder, the second and she screamed out loud, by the third she was whispering his name in a mantra and those two syllables had never sounded so good. He wouldn’t stop for anything.

An inexplicable calm settled shortly afterwards and he fell still, head resting comfortable against her hip, his eyes closed tight.

She exhaled loudly, her hand snaking down, fingers tangling into his hair. It took several moments for him to realise that she was tugging him, urging him back up her body and when he eventually obliged, she pressed her lips to his, fumbling to strip him of clothing too.

‘I still want you,’ she murmured, her gaze dark and intense, hands slipping beneath the waistband of his boxer shorts.

At first contact, he jumped, but then responded with such enthusiasm that when he joined her on the bed, gathering her into his arms, her head smacked off the headboard with such a loud crack that they both cringed.

Emma swatted his arm playfully and Rupert found himself laughing as he mumbled, ‘Sorry…’

‘Think I have enough bruises already, Rupes, don’t need anymore,’ she said, her eyes twinkling with mirth and something else – something he couldn’t quite place.

‘I said I was sorry, didn’t I?’ he whispered.

Lowering himself down on top of her, an elbow bracing his weight as he ran curious fingers through her hair and kissed at her jaw incessantly, he added, ‘Least they’d be good bruises, Em…’

She smiled – no, beamed up at him, her arms encircling his neck as their lips met in another feverish kiss.

Rupert repressed the urge to simply keep kissing her for the rest of the night and ran his hand up her bare thigh, lips settling against her forehead. She responded without hesitation, her leg wrapping around his and forcing him closer still.

‘Don’t make me-’

No chance of that. He cut her off with a playful smirk, tormenting her for as long as he possibly could and before his own actions drove him insane, too. And then there was no holding back, her moans and cries echoed in his head and she was all around him, body curling closer to his as he lost himself. Hand slipping down to cup her chin, he tilted her head skywards, their eyes meeting as bodies came together with a heartfelt sigh of contentment.

This was really happening. For the first time he had no reverie to snap himself out of. Emma Watson, his Emma Watson, the girl he’d only dreamed of, she was right there in front of him with every fibre of her being exposed. In this moment, they were both naked, in the literal and figurative sense of the word, so many untold truths passing between them.

He thought it would be bliss, but as they unravelled together, she clung onto him tighter still and something somewhere deep inside of him, died. This wasn’t about them at all, it was about Emma and she was broken…

Helpless, he felt completely helpless.

Why – and more importantly – how hadn’t he realised before today?

Rupert loved her. He had loved her forever and a day, but this – this – was beyond him now. He didn’t know how to fix this. Though through her pleas, he soldiered on, hoping that somehow he was helping her.

When he finally collapsed beside her, mind reeling and short of breath, he caught her eye and noticed the tears threatening to fall.

‘Em-’

‘Don’t,’ her voice cracked, shattered like broken glass, and one solitary tear plopped down onto the duvet cover. ‘I can’t.’ She sighed, eyes falling closed. ‘Just hold me?’

He swallowed down the lump forming in his throat and edged closer to her, urging her to come to him. ‘I can – I can do that,’ he responded, bundling her into his arms and laying his head atop of hers, waiting patiently for her upset to subside.

Little did he know then that he had a long wait before him and almost an hour later, he’d fallen to sleep with Emma gripping his hand so tightly that he’d be sure to have lost all feeling by the time morning came around.

How could he have been so blind?

.x.

Comments

[dod-yhwh.livejournal.com]

Amazing! I was sitting on the edge of my seat *bites lip* more please?

[cloudysky.livejournal.com]

I'm writing, I'm writing! I can give you a preview if you want... =P

.x.

[chinavagina.livejournal.com]

Moooarrr, please! This is so good. I finally have time to read fics and things thanks to spring break.

Can't wait for the next part!

[cloudysky.livejournal.com]

Hoorah! More is up now, I just posted, been mighty busy writing these past couple of days =)

.x.