This is kinda a blurb of words, so enjoy at your own risk I guess.

Ross and Laura are around the age of 22/23 in this fic, and it has rebellious Laura in it.

AU.

"How old were you, exactly?"

"Seventeen."

He scrubbed his hands over his face. "You were barely older than that child who just passed by us on the way here."

"I was old enough to know what I wanted, Ross." she assured him. "And you were everything to me. I would have done almost anything to be with you."

"I don't think I'd ever been as completely infatuated with anyone as I was with you," Ross confided. "From the very first time my brothers and I went into Damiano's and you walked out of the kitchen, weaving your way between tightly packed tables with a pizza tray held over your head, I was smitten."

"You were obnoxious."

"Rocky was obnoxious," he reminded her. "I was just desperate to get your attention."

She smiled at the memory. "You suceeded."

"I ate a lot of pizza over the next few weeks, just so that I'd have an excuse to see you and talk to you."

"I didn't mind- you never skipped out on your bill and always left a decent tip."

"And still, you kept refusing to go out with me."

"I didn't understand why you kept asking," she admitted. "It was so obvious to me that you were way out of my league."

"You were so beautiful." He stroked a hand over her hair, let his fingers sift through the silky ends. "You are so beautiful."

"And you're still way out of my league," Laura said, sounding regretful. It could have just been the slight buzz in her from the shot of patron her and Ross had before the conversation started.

"Don't you remember how good we were together?"

"Good is a valuation, Ross." she hedged. "And I didn't have and experence to judge it against." She laughed a little bit at those words. Of course her demented mind decided to bring up the fact she had no prior experience to her summer fling with Ross. She was the reincarnation of Virgin Mary practically.

"Then you'll have to trust my judgement, and believe me whe I say that we had a fabulous chemistry."

"We're not kids anymore," she said. "We have careers to think aboutm which makes this a lot more complicated now than it was all those years ago."

"So tell me to go." He dipped his head and brushed his lips against hers, softly, fleetingly. "Tell me to go, and mean it, and I'll get up and walk right off this beach."

The tip of her tongue touched her bottom lip. "I invited you here.," she reminded him. "It would be rude to tell you to go without even trying."

"Tell me to go," he said again. "Or ask me to stay. But be sure you know what you want."

Ross saw the indecision in her eyes. Desire warring with caution; hope batting with fear. He understood her hesitation. They were at a crossroads, and if they went forward here, there would be no going back.

She lifted a hand, laid her palm over his chest where his heart was beating fast and hard against his ribs. "You,"

"I want you."

Then her hand slip up to cup the back of his head, drawing his mouth down to hers so that she could whisper against his lips, "Stay."

Ross's heart pounded hard against his ribs. Once, twice, as his mind absorbed her response. "You're sure?"

He couldn't believe he was asking the question. But the first time, he hadn't given her a choice. He seduced her thoroughly and completely, so that she'd been incapable of refusing what he wanted, what he needed.

He needed her no less now, but he also needed to know that the choice was hers and one made freely and without hesitation.

"I'm sure," she promised, and held her hand still on his heart.

Her lips were soft and yielding, deliciously and intoxicatingly familiar. Of course he remembered her taste; he'd been haunted by her scent and her warmth and her passion for years.

Nobody had ever lingered on Ross's mind or taken hold of his heart the way Laura had done.

It was more of a rush of blood through his veins, it was the rush of joy he felt when she smiled at him. It was the way his pulse leapt when she much as glanced in his direction, the way his heart pounded when she touched a hand to his sleeve. It was the unexpected and undeniable bone-deep contentment and rightness that he'd only ever felt when she was in his arms.

At the ripe age of seventeen, he'd told her that he'd loved her. But even when he said those words to her, even when his heart had felt as if it would burst with happiness when she said them back, he hadn't fully understood what they meant. He hadn't fully appreciated the true depth of his feelings while he was with her—and he certainly hadn't anticipated the intensity of emptiness he would feel when she was gone.

But she was here with him now, warming and willing, and he had no intention of ever letting her go again.

He combed his fingers through her hair. Pins scattered as the soft mass spilled down onto her shoulders. He'd always loved her hair., the way it looked spread out over his blanket, the way she looked at him, sleepy eyed, probably due to the warmth of the alcohol they had consumed, and contented. The image was sharp and vivid in his mind, and he wanted her like hat again. Now.

He tore his lips from hers to trail kisses down her throat. He lingered at the racing pulse point at her jaw, and she sighed with pleasure. He moved lower, tracing the deep V at the front of blouse, dipping his tongue into the warm hollow between her breasts. She shuddered but didn't pull away. He founded the hem at her wiast, and pulled it up, garnishing the clothing unnecessary. Now his hands were on her bare, quivering flesh.

A quick glimpse of the red lace bra and the hopefully matching underwear had him groaning aloud. She was so lush and perfect and...his. He pushed her closer to the ground that was thankfully covered by a large blanket, and curled his hands around her ass, lifting her off of the ground. She braced her back against the ground and wrapped her legs around him, pressing herself more intimately against him, and he groaned again as all the blood rushed from his head.

He unfastened the front clasp of her bra, letting her breasts spill free. He filled his hands with them, brushed his thumbs over the tightly-beaded nipples, and she gasped. He captured her mouth again, his tongue sliding between her lips, tangling with hers. Her hands were in his hair now, and the was she was kissing him back and pressing himself left him in absolutely no doubt that she wanted the same thing he did.

She pulled back, her breathing shaky and uneven. "I feel like I'm seventeen again," she said, her voice little more than a whisper. "The way my heart is pounding and my knees are shaking."

He pressed her palm to his chest again, so that she would know his heart was pounding, too. "I feel as if I've been waiting for you forever."

His lips brushed over hers, softly, teasing. Her eyelids drifted down in a sigh.

Ross took his time. Even if this was what they both wanted, he didn't want to rush. Not this time. Instead, he lingered on her mouth, sampling, nibbling, savoring her uniquely exotic flavor. When he finally slid his tongue between her lips, a low hum of pleasure sounded in her throat, and he took the kiss deeper.

It was only when his hands moved down to the top button of her jean shorts she started to draw back.

"We should pull the blanket over us," she said.

"Why?"

"Because it feels strange to be taking my clothes of with the sun beaming down on me."

"There isn't anyone around for miles," he said, brushing his lips against hers again. "And I want to see you. Every inch of you. Gloriously naked."

"Now I'm really nervous," she admitted.

"Only because you're thinking. So stop thinking," he instructed, and kissed her again.

It was a long, deep kiss that completely and effectively wiped all thought from her mind. She wasn't thinking anymore, she wasn't capable of thinking anymore, only feeling. She could feel her heart pounding, she could feel the heat that pulsed in her veins, and she could feel the desperate, aching need that spread through her body.

This time, when he started to unfasten her buttons, she didn't even think of stopping him. When he pushed the shorts down her legs, the balmy air caressed her skin, raising goosebumps on her flesh. Then he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her tight against his body, and all she felt was heat. He ran his hands over her shoulders, down her arms. She tugged his shirt out of his pants, anxious to touch him as he was touching her. Her hands fumbled, just a little, as she worked at his buttons. When she had most of them unfastened, he tugged it over his head and tossed it aside.

Her hands splayed over his chest, relishing the feel of solid, warm flesh beneath her palms, and the strong, steady beat of his heart. Her hands slid lower, tracing the hard ridges of his abdomen, then lower still. Within minutes, they were both naked, but as eager as she was for the joining of their bodies, she didn't want to rush a single moment of their time together. Ross must have felt the same way, because he didn't immediately move forward and plunge into her, but seemed content to keep kissing her, touching her, teasing her.

When he finally laid her against the blanket once again, the cold sand against the fabric jolted Laura back to reality. What was she thinking—making love with him here? He was used to being with glamorous women in exclusive penthouse hotel rooms, making love on top of sheets that probably cost more than all her bedroom furniture combined. He was a rockstar and she—

The thought drifted away as his hands stroked over her, shooting arrows of pleasure streaking across her skin. Yeah, he was a rockstar, but he was here with her now, and that was all that mattered.

He worked his way from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, exploring and arousing every single inch of her. He used his hands and lips and his body until she was panting with want, aching with need, and willing to beg. He took her to the sharpest edge of pleasure, and then, finally over. Her body was still trembling with the aftershocks when he drove into her, sending a whole new wave of sensation crashing through her system. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, her legs anchored around his hips. She felt as if she could drown in the pleasure he was giving her, and she gloried in it.

She cried out, her nails digging into his flesh as her body tightened around him, dragging him into the storm of sensation along with her.

-ladeeladeeeeeeeeeeeelineeeebreakkkladeeladeeeeeeeeeeeee-

He held her in his arms. As the last of the sun's rays faded from the sky, plunging the beach into darkness, he continued to hold her. Her head was nestled against his shoulder, his her arm draped across his belly—until his stomach grumbled, loudly.

"We skipped dinner, didn't we?"

"I wasn't hungry before," he said, his hand stroking down her back. "Except for you."

She tilted her head back to look him. "And now?"

"Now...I'm starving," he admitted.

Laura let out a giggled and buried her head back into his shoulder. "So typical of you."

He just glared at her, a pout settled on his face as he snuggled closer, encasing the blanket tighter around them.

2.1k word vomit yay! alright please leave a review if you enjoyed bc I love that ish and y'all and check me out on the social media at maranoftfivesos kay i love you bye