He’s very honest and raw in the mornings after making love, that’s a new thing she learns right then. She thinks it’s adorable.
“Why would you be afraid?” she asks, taking a deep breath against his skin, inhaling his scent, to commit it as it is to memory. It’s that sandalwood note of his shower-gel that still lingers, even past the rain and the sweat, mixed with the notes of exertion from sex, and that very specific way his dark hair smells, sweet and musky and perfect. She thinks she’d be able to pick him out of a crowd by smell alone.
“I’m scared I’ll lose you,” he confesses.
“You won’t,” she whispers. “I promise.”
“You’re going to have to promise me that a couple more times,” he mutters and kisses her head.
“I promise,” she says, and doesn’t doubt her words for a second.
“I’ll be annoying, you know that?” he warns her gently.
“I know,” she chuckles. “You’ve always been a little annoying.”
“You’ve always been perfect,” he sighs and it’s not a joke.
“Far from it,” she says and kisses his chest lightly. “But I always tried really hard for you.”
Next thing she knows, she’s in his arms as he pulls her up to hug her closer and she could swear there is a choked noise escaping from his throat as he does it.
“Baby, are you crying?” she asks him, squished between his collarbone and neck.
“No,” he sobs defensively. “I’m just - ”
“Crying,” she cuts in and lifts her head to look at his red-rimmed eyes. He looks like his Mother when he’s welling with tears. Scarlett is definitely the one who passed down the emotionality there. “Why are you crying?”
“That thing you said,” he replies, casting his eyes at the ceiling. “You always made such an effort for me and most of the time, I was a dick to you.”
“It’s fine,” she smiles and gives him a kiss on the jaw. “It’s very sweet that you’re so emotional.”
“I’m serious, though, it’s not fine,” he says, his tears subsiding. “I want to do better. I want to be perfect for you.”
“You are,” she reassures him easily.
“I’ll treat you so well,” he promises. “I swear. You never have to worry about that”
“Well, you have to treat me normally, mostly,” she says, and he shrugs and makes a face like it doesn’t compute. “Because of the show,” she explains. “We can’t run around being all different now.”
He stills underneath her and something shifts. His guard being down results in her seeing his vulnerability on full display. She moves quickly, touching her hand to his cheek.
“Or what were you thinking?” she asks. “Do you not want to finish the show?”
“No, I mean,” he starts, his face shifting from troubled to pondering. “Technically we’re not a couple, right?”
“Well,” she crinkles her forehead. He reacts immediately.
“Wait, that came out wrong,” he hurries. “I don’t mean that I don’t want to be together.” He kisses her quickly. “If you want to, I definitely want to.”
“I do,” she says, the warm fuzziness kicking up a notch. “I want to be with you.”
“For real,” he smirks, kisses her again and she giggles.
“For real,” she parrots. He’s such an adorable dork, it cracks her chest open with affection.
She sits up on him, smirks, and just like that, the sleeping bag between them gets pushed aside and they use condom number five. By the time they’re ready to leave the safe cocoon of their tent in a cave, both in their underwear and her in one of the shirts he brought, the box of twelve Trojans is now down to six.
“I’m going to use that sat-phone now,” Declan calls to her, stepping out into the light before her. The rocks near the cave’s mouth are already hot under their feet with the morning sun. It’s all pretty again after the storm, the water passing softly through the lake, the jungle alive with chirping sounds and ruffles of feathers and wings and thumps of small animal feet.
“Oh, right,” she says, watching him move toward the lake where no trees are covering the view to the clear blue sky. “We completely forgot about that last night.”
“It was bound to happen.”
“What’s our excuse when they pick us up? Do we quit?”
“Do you want to quit?” he asks back, throwing the ball right into her court. Karin understands that they’re dancing around a moral question here that neither of them wants to be the first to weigh in on. Are we going to lie about the nature of our relationship to have a shot at a million dollars or are we going to be honest and pass up on it? But then, hadn’t they entered this competition precisely to win a million dollars through lying about the nature of their relationship? Her head hurts.
“Can we say what we want on the count of three?” she suggests, not in the mood for hours of beating around the bush on this decision. He nods, sort of wobbly but when she counts them in they say at the same time: “I want to win.” They laugh, because they’ve always been so very in sync and Karin is very relieved to be on the same page this time as well.
They leave it at that, they don’t discuss the morality of it, a shared look is enough to know that they’re both aware lying is bad but a million dollars is a million dollars and they’re so close to winning the show, it would be stupid to throw the competition at this point. All she says on the matter after is of a practical nature. “So we lie, and we’ll lie well. Then we’ll win.”
Declan nods again and then holds up the phone, shrugs, and sets out to call Marietta with a new secret to keep from a new set of people. Karin ducks back into the cave, because getting picked up at the beach in their underwear and her in Declan’s T-shirt is really not an option and their clothes are still in a damp pile next to the burnt out fire inside.
By the time she gets back with their clothes and places them each on their own spot on the hot rocks to dry, he is done with the call.
“We’re supposed to be at the beach in three hours,” he tells her. “They were really worried about us. I told them we had no reception because of the storm.”
“On our satellite phone?” she raises an eyebrow, rising from a bend down to tuck at the edges of his shirt from the day before. He shrugs.
“So that rag you’re wearing, that should be laid out to dry as well,” Declan muses, pointing at his not-white-anymore tee, falling around her frame more like a dress.
“But it’s not wet,” she informs him, which he rectifies too quickly for her to stop by ducking towards the lake and splashing two handfuls of water at her. He barely gets the shirt wet but neither of them cares.
“I think you should let that dry while we clean off in the lake,” he tells her and she finally gets it. Chuckling, she holds her hand up to him, to make him pause, and goes into the cave to bring back another condom. He makes a face at her when she puts it on the ground near the water’s edge.
“Come on, like you’re not going to try something,” she laughs and he gives her a ‘fair enough’ kind of shake of the head and moves in. If his eyes could undress her, she would already be naked. God, she does love being marooned on this lonely island with him. Because when she fiddles with the waistband of his underwear, nobody else can see him undress, just her. It’s all just hers.
“Can you step back a little,” she asks, short of breath as she realizes something. “I haven’t really seen you. In the light.”
“I haven’t seen you either,” he swallows and looks for the first time this morning like he hasn’t eaten in over seventeen hours. They nod at each other and as she strips out of his shirt and her panties, he steps out of his boxer briefs. She stares at him shamelessly once they’re both naked, facing each other in the jungle like some sort of Adam and Eve. Except there’s no leafs covering anything. Thank God for that. He is glorious. Perfect. His defined abs are making this V-shape she’s already crazy about, pointing down to where he’s rising, straight and th
ick. He follows her eyes, and hers flicker up to his face in time to see him blush.
“You’re so beautiful,” she whispers and he nearly giggles in his sudden shyness.
He scratches the back of his head, creating a stretch that tugs at his whole body deliciously, making everything taut from his belly button to his shoulders.
“I’ve never done this before, letting someone look at me like this,” he mumbles.
“Me neither,” she says and it’s the first time he seems to remember that she is butt naked, too. Instantly all of his bashfulness makes way for longing. It’s all over his face when his head flies up to survey her, tracing her curves at leisure, as if he could touch her with his gaze.
She swallows hard and resists the urge to cover herself up, letting him look. But Declan has never been good at only watching things he likes and not touching them, which is why he doesn’t stay where he is long and instead, ever impatient, he walks over to her and puts his hands on her hips. It was always more about instant gratification about his cravings for him. Unless it was about her, apparently. But that is over now, too.
“Ever gone skinny dipping on a deserted island before?” he whispers, his eyes now trained on hers, forgoing ogling her body to stare into her soul, solidifying this new color within the palette of their relationship, this whole new tapestry reaching from desire to passion to abandon. She shakes her head to his question and he grins, moving to take her into the water by the hand. There’s some sort of song playing in the back of her head, something soft, something about love.
They’re both jumpy going in the water, because it’s colder than expected but eventually the shrieks of panic at the temperature turn to laughter as their bodies grow accustomed to it, and they find each other, swimming towards the middle where the algae on the bottom of the lake won’t touch their feet. He’s with her in moments, head and shoulders sticking out from the surface as he pulls her close like he’s the moon and she’s the tide.
“Hi,” Declan whispers, one hand on her, the other paddling to stay afloat as she does the same.
“Hi,” she echoes and leans in to kiss him. They kiss in the water until he gets too antsy and then maneuvers her to the rock where they got in, laying her on her back before taking his time with her. He’s made it so that they came out just an arm’s reach away from the condom, and it’s a smart thing he did because they need it quite quickly. It’s about the only thing that doesn’t come out covered in mud at the other side of things. Because halfway through, he rolls her off the rock and into the dirty ground next to it, and then they make each other laugh by getting each other dirty - in the kid sense of playing in wet grainy sand.
They use condom number eight underneath the bigger waterfall, where he takes her bent over as the spray rains down on her back, running softly down their bodies where they’re connected. She screams out his name against the rock she’s got her arms propped up on and he growls like he’s forgotten he’s a human for a while behind her. Afterwards, they’re properly clean and they find their clothes dry. The problem is just that they now have eight used condoms and they’re not exactly in a place rich on public waste bins. After some deliberation, Karin decides to shove them into her dirty laundry plastic bag at the bottom of her re-packed rucksack to get rid of later somehow and all the way back to the villa, she feels their weight like bricks in her backpack. The only time she forgets is when they reach the boat on the beach and they’re welcomed by their rescue mission with hugs and drinks and food. She doesn’t even realize how hungry she is until she almost inhales a ham and cheese sandwich, too busy cramming it in her mouth to appreciate the view of the turquoise ocean around her as the boat sets off from the shore.
Declan meanwhile sits next to her on the bench of the stern like he is ready to impersonate Leonardo DiCaprio and yell ‘I’m the king of the world!’ at the top of his lungs at any moment. She shoots him a look, swallowing the last bit of sandwich down hard. Then nods her head towards Marietta and Brody who have come personally, with Claudine in tow.
“We’re so sorry,” Marietta says, obviously not yet irked by Declan’s new and very improved mood. “When you didn’t phone in, we were about ready to call the police.”
“But I said to wait,” Claudine chimes in. “I knew you were probably going to go back to the cave.”
“It was so good that Rinny had that idea,” Declan says and moves to put an arm around Karin’s shoulder but stops short when she gives him a look. Did he forget what they agreed on already? This time Marietta does takes note and casts a glance their way that Karin just shrugs off.
“He got very Indiana Jones about the whole thing,” she says, nodding towards Declan. “Very excited.”
“Well, we’re all glad you’re alright,” Marietta enthuses, moving on as well. “Are you still up for the last evaluation tomorrow or do you think you’ll need another day?”
“No, I think we’re fine. Right, Declan?” Karin turns to her real fake boyfriend. He nods, and it’s obvious to her he’s not trying a smidge to pay attention to anything but her neck. He’s not even looking her in the eye, gaze locked on her clavicle bone like an idiot. Only a sharp, quiet hiss in his direction makes him snap out of it and put on a regular, un-star struck face. She is very happy about the way he looks at her, don’t get her wrong, but he’s too loud, for lack of a better word.
When the boat is docked to the pier just a brief two minute stroll down the private beach in front of the villa, Gorman and Ralph are already waiting for them. Their pudgy, kind-hearted cameraman and the lanky sound-guy don’t really wait to let them get off the planks before enveloping each of them into a big bear hug, one at a time.
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re alright,” Gorman says once they’ve broken apart.
“We felt horrible about leaving you there,” Ralph chimes in, putting a large hand on Karin’s shoulder.
“It’s alright,” Declan says, waving dismissively, only glaring at the other man’s hand on her shoulder for a millisecond before getting his act together. “It was an adventure. All that survival training was absolutely good for something.”
“Well, thank God it all turned out fine,” Gorman nods. “When I saw you in that river…”
“Yes, that was a close call,” Karin agrees as Ralph drops his hand. “In hindsight, I’m quite certain Declan saved my life there.”
“Please, I just climbed a vine,” he scoffs it off in that Declan-way of not taking credit for the best of his actions.
“You’re an idiot,” she says affectionately and the grin that earns her hits her square in the chest. It makes her miss everything for a moment, from Marietta’s raised eyebrow behind them to Gorman’s sideway-glance to Claudine. On their way back to the villa, Karin stays close to Declan. She wants to take his hand but knows that she can’t. Impatient to be alone with him again, she hurries them through their welcome back conversations with Kaelan and Kaidan and Courtney and Bobby, who huddle around them to hear all about their terrifying night alone on an island in a tropical storm. She promises everybody that they’re fine, that she and Declan just need some time to take a shower and freshen up.
For the first time on the show, Karin’s line about “taking a shower,” that was always implied to be the two of them taking it together, actually means just that. They add the ninth used condom to her laundry bag after.
“I’m amazed that you’re not getting tired,” Karin says to him as they dry off, hoping he won’t take her complimenting his stamina the wrong way. It’s not like he finished nine times since they started getting to know each other. She doubts he would be able to walk if that had happened, but they just kept taking these breaks after the times she came the night before and she’d expected him to fall asleep every time but he just kept nudging her back for more. She isn’t sure if he had deliberately held back from coming to be able to basically marathon-fuck her (to put it bluntly) or if he maybe has issues, which - if so - she hopes isn't because she’s bad in bed. She’s
tentatively certain that’s not the case, and that Declan might just be very Declan about it all, all in and all mind over matter. Besides, she really isn’t complaining. She might be a little sore but that doesn’t mean she’s got her fill of him yet. She could go on doing him possibly forever.
“I will tire, eventually,” he shrugs easily. “I’m not infinite. But we’ve got years to make up for here and you’re so amazing, so I could do this a few more times.” She’d take him up on it if they didn’t have to get back to the others for dinner. “It’s very difficult trying not to come all the time, though,” he adds. “I just never want it to be over, you know?”
Kill me, why don’t you, Shelton, she thinks, seriously deliberating skipping dinner to go down on him simply for that, and so it’s definitely not her being ‘bad in bed’ that’s keeping him on his two feet, it’s his own damn, wonderful stubbornness. She finds herself reminded of that time he told her that he liked ‘being close’ and how she wondered if he meant physically or physically in a very different sense. Now, she can safely say it’s both.
The next morning, Karin and Declan wake up in a real bed, entwined and comfortably drowsy. She’s infinitely glad that the camera in the room has been switched off since the babysitting challenge, and after a small breakfast of avocado and poached egg-toast in bed, she steals off to the tennis court to use their gym for cover to get rid of the now full twelve used condoms she has hidden away in her retired plastic laundry bag. Ten and eleven were used with a break to get a midnight snack the night before, and they finally used condom number twelve at ten in the morning, after which Declan said: “Alright, now I’ll need the day,” and she had laughed and kissed him for being a soldier, making him wince: “No, please, stop touching me or it’ll fall off.”
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