Two days until the first of January. Two days until the marathon. But today was Ali’s final run before the race. That morning, she woke up early along with James, and they both left the house at the same time, going off to their separate workouts. It was a maintenance day for James, so he wouldn’t be too long at practice. Ali, on the other hand, promised to do a solid 15 miles, and no less. She drove to her usual running spot near the University, and ran until she couldn’t run anymore. She made it to mile 11 before she had to take a break. No breaks in two days she told herself, so she picked it back up after thirty seconds of rest and kept chugging.

Luckily, if it held, the forecast was supposed to be sunny but chilly for New Year’s Day. That helped calm her a little, knowing she wouldn’t have rain or snow to battle in addition to everything else. On the flipside, Ali had talked to her parents that morning and they said they would be making the trip down to see her cross the finish line, which didn’t help her nerves one bit. She really wasn’t meaning to do any of this to attract large groups of people to come watch her; it was something she always wanted to do, and since she’d been running a lot all summer and fall, it just made sense to go for it.

And yet, they insist on coming down. She shook her head as she ran, listening to the music on her ipod to keep her momentum. Everything felt strong within her body, but fuck did her lungs burn.

A few hours later, after Ali completed her run and made sure to do a serious cool down, she sat in her car and stared out the windshield. She felt ready. Her body felt ready. What the hell was her mind’s problem, then? She wished it would hurry and catch up with the rest of her.

Doing what she did best, she pushed these nerves to the back of her mind, cranked her radio, and rocked out the rest of the way back to the house. When she pulled into the garage, James’ car was in its spot, which made her pretty happy to see. Coming into the kitchen though, she heard his voice drifting from the living room in full conversation with someone on the phone. Not intending to disturb, Ali went about her business, grabbing two bottles of sports drinks from the fridge.

Hearing her, James came into the kitchen while still on his phone. He pressed himself against Ali’s back, bumping her into the edge of the counter.

“Hi” he whispered.

“Hi.”

James kissed her cheek before backing off, listening as a loud voice on the other line continued to talk. Ali could hear the voice herself, but couldn’t tell who it was. She did her part to chug three quarters of the first bottle of lime flavored Gatorade as James laughed out loud.

“He said that?” He laughed again. “Dude.”

Ali smiled at James, watching him talk. He looked at her and rolled his eyes. “Nick” he mouthed, and Ali nodded. She should’ve known it was one of the bothers. She finished what was left in the bottle and pitched it, then went to investigate the cupboards for something to eat.

“He’s fucking crazy!” James said as he continued listening to his brother. He eyed Ali as she reached up into one of the cupboards, her tight base layer rising to show some of her back. He moved over and pulled down on the waistband of her running tights, exposing the lace band of her thong. She slapped his hand and smirked at him.

“What?” His mouth moved to form the word silently as he looked at her with that innocent charm Ali always fell for.

She gave him a playful glare and went about gathering ingredients to make a sandwich. James went back to his brother, laughing again as Nick told whatever story he was telling.

“But anyone knows Chad wouldn’t do that.” James listened for a second. “Bullshit, Nick – he’s too much of a pussy.”

Ali looked over and smiled. “Such language” she whispered.

James reached over and pulled at her waistband again, to which Ali returned the favor with another slap. He wasn’t going to lose that easily, so he went back to standing directly behind her and pressed himself into her backside again. That didn’t get him any sort of slap at all, which he thoroughly enjoyed.

“Yeah man, I hear ya” James told his brother. He leaned his head down into the nape of Ali’s neck as she pretended he wasn’t there.

Though Ali may have been pretending, it was a hard thing to ignore James’ body when it was pressed against you. She teased him by shoving her ass back further onto him.

James held his cell phone away from his mouth. “Tease.”

Ali shot him a grin. She pointed at the sandwich. “Want one?”

He nodded. “Alright man, I gotta run – thanks for that riveting tale,” he said into the phone. “Keep me posted on what he says because I still can’t believe it.” Nick said something on the other line and James chuckled. “Yeah okay. Later." He hung up and sighed. “I can’t keep up with Whitby anymore. It’s damn near impossible.”

Ali felt James’ hand gently pull her face to the side so his lips could access hers. The kiss was a long one, long enough for Ali to get somewhat lost in it.

“How was your run?” he asked when they parted. It took Ali a second to find her thoughts again.

“Um…..well, it’s the last one, so….it went as expected” she replied, finishing the assembly of her sandwich. “Felt damn good though. I can’t believe it’s almost here.”

James leaned back against the counter. “You’re nervous.”

“Well hell yeah, I’m nervous!”

“Why?”

Ali set the deli meat down with a thud. “James.”

“What?”

“WHY am I nervous?” She blinked. “Why!?”

James laughed. “Yes, WHY. You’ve been running since June, and you’ve been following the progression you should for training for a marathon. So what’s to be nervous about?”

Oh how quickly he forgets what it’s like to do something new. “I don’t know” she replied, beginning to make his sandwich. “Maybe because I’ve never done this before?”

He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her. He kept looking at her until she finally looked over at him. “So let me get this straight” he said, “just because you’ll be joined by a couple thousand other people and you’ll be wearing a number, that somehow changes the way you run?”

Ali thought for a second, and she watched James smile.

“Because I’ve seen you run. And you run well. And fast. You made your 6 minute mile a while ago, so I guess I don’t get it.”

She loved him for trying to understand, and for a minute, she wondered if he had a point. The way he looked at her then, she felt he really was trying to understand and really was trying to help her.

“You’re right.” Ali said. “Why is this any different than my normal runs, right?”

James stood up and placed both hands on the sides of her shoulders. “Gotta think positive, and don’t let the mental game get you. Most important thing.” He kissed her forehead. “Don’t make it any bigger than it is, okay? You know you've got this. I know you've got this.”

Ali let James wrap his arms around her in one of his big, comfy hugs. Her heart was racing because while her mind told her everything he said was right, she was also aware common sense wasn’t exactly a factor here. She’d do her best to not lose the mental game…but two days was a long time to try and fight it.

With a sigh, she let the feeling of James' arms soothe her, which he did just as successfully as ever.

* * *

Later that evening, as Ali headed into work, James headed across the street to Paul’s to watch a basketball game. It was just the two of them this time, so it was pretty low key. James kept the zip-up hood and jeans on that he’d been wearing all day, but threw his Pens hat on to cover up the absolutely hopeless mess of hair he was sporting all day as well.

“Sup, man” he said as Paul opened the door for him.

“Hurry up, it's almost on" Paul said.

James wasted no time in going straight for the kitchen and helping himself to a beer. “How was practice?”

“Hmm…let’s see” Paul looked at the ceiling. “Power plays. Power plays. Oh…and power plays.”

“So I didn’t miss anything.” James smiled.

“Not a thing. Although Tanger took a bit of a slam into the boards by accident, but no harm done. That was about all.”

He laughed. “Geno texted me about that. I was wondering.”

They moved into the living room where the tv was already on and showing the beginnings of the Pitt/Duke game. James took up most of the couch, so Paul took up residence on the recliner nearby. Whenever James hung out alone with Paul, the conversation wasn’t exactly deep, and it never lasted very long if it was, but their friendship was a rather comfortable one. They just hung out, laughed and talked when they wanted, and mostly just yelled and cheered at the television as the game went on.

During one of the commercial breaks, an advertisement for the New Year’s Day marathon was shown. Paul pointed at the screen with his beer.

“We going to this?”

“Damn right we are” James replied. “We need to get there somewhat early too. I want prime real estate near the finish line.”

“Is Ali ready?”

“She’s nervous…but she’s ready.”

Paul laughed a little. “I’d be nervous too! She’s never ran in one.”

“So?” James flashed him a sharp look. “Come on, you think she’ll actually have issues?”

“No, no, no, that’s not what I meant” Paul replied, wincing a little. “Sorry if that’s how it came out. I just meant if I was running it, I’d have some jitters. That’s all.”

James shrugged and took a swig of beer. Paul stared at his friend.

“So what time are you thinking?” he asked.

“Well Ali’s gotta be down there and get her number at like 6 am’ish?” James calculated out in his head. “So I’ll drop her off, come back and get you….probably around 7:30?”

“Works for me.” Paul smiled at him. “I’m kind of excited for this.”

James returned the smile. “Me too, actually. For once, I get to cheer for her, ya know?”

Paul nodded, seeing clearly how important it was to James. He wanted to come along to be there for him as much as for Ali. They were both like family, especially James.

“We should get t-shirts made” James said abruptly. He looked over at Paul with a new light in his eyes. “With her name on them.”

Paul laughed. “What, like a jersey?”

James sat up on the couch and faced him more. “Kind of, but not an exact jersey. Just a shirt or something with a number on it. Can you imagine her face? She would die if she crossed the finish line and saw that.”

“Man, you are into this, aren’t you?”

“It’s my girl, Paulie." James picked up his phone and started cruising websites. “Let’s get them made right now. Nothing will be open tomorrow, so if we’re doing it, we better do it.”

“Well now, wait a second, slow down.” Paul knew James did things spur of the moment-like all the time, so he had to be the one to think things through like this. “Do you even know what number? What color?”

“Who cares, we’ll figure that out as we go.”

Exactly, Paul thought. “No, but really.”

James lowered his phone. “Well let’s see. Pink and black are her favorite colors.”

“Done. Black shirt, pink letters and numbers.”

“So we’ll get her last name on the back, like our jerseys…” James was essentially thinking out loud, but noticed Paul nodding his head.

“Done. ‘Diserelli’ in pink. The number?”

“That’s what I don’t know.” James thought of her birthday number, which was April 10th, but the number 10 didn’t seem right. He didn’t know if she had a lucky number of any kind, so that wouldn’t work.

Next to him, Paul sat silently, also trying to think. “Is number 1 too cliché?” he asked.

James stared at him. “Just a bit.”

Paul shrugged. “Well I don’t know!”

Rubbing his forehead, James tried to think. “Fuck, should we even have a number?”

“What else would go beneath her name?”

He didn’t know.

“What about her race number?”

“How would I get that?” James asked. It hit him the minute he said it. “Paul – you sexy bastard.” He picked up the phone and looked up the number to anyone he could get in touch with that dealt with race registration. He called the first number he found, figuring if that didn’t lead him there, maybe the person on the line would point him in the right direction.

“Hi, yeah, umm…My name is James, and my girlfriend is running in the race on Saturday, and I was wondering if I could find out what her registration number was ahead of time?” He listened as the person on the line as they explained he would have to contact the office for that information. They gave him the number and he quickly memorized it.

“Got it, thanks.” He hung up and quickly dialed the new number. Looking over at Paul, he gave him a grin as he waited through four rings. On the fifth, someone picked up.

“Hi” James said. He paused, listening. “Uh…well no, but my girlfriend is. That’s why I’m calling – I was wondering if you know what he race number might be this early, and if so, could I could get that from you?”

Paul waited along with James as there was more talking on the line.

“Really?” The excitement in James' voice let Paul know they’d struck gold. “Allison Diserelli.” He paused. “Sure, it’s: D-i-s-e-r-e-l-l-i.”

More waiting.

“Yep, still here.” James listened. “No way. That’s her number?”

Paul’s brow bent as he watched James’ face transform into one of awe.

“Alright, well – I appreciate that very much. Thank you.” He hung up and looked at Paul.

“Her number is 1818.”

* * *

James and Paul got the shirts made, ditching the game and going on a hell of a treasure hunt to find a place that would make them that night. Paul pitched in half the cost, and together, the two of them offered twice as much money to the store that would make it that night. It eventually worked, and they were able to sway the owner of one of the stores they went to into producing two shirts by the time they closed.

Ali had no idea, of course. She went about her shift at the hotel, which was as busy as ever. All kinds of check-ins and no breaks made for a very, very tired Ali by the time her shift was over. The hotel was completely booked by the time she left, and was never happier to have a shift end in her entire life. She wished John a very happy New Year’s, changed out of her uniform, and tried not to fall asleep on the drive home.

“I’m dead. I’m officially dead” Ali said as she walked heavily upstairs. Coming into the bedroom, she smelled the scent of cologne or after shave or something, and it uplifted her temporarily. “James?” She tossed her purse on the floor next to one of his’ hoodies and saw he was in the bathroom. When she saw what he was holding, she gasped.

“What!” she exclaimed. “What is this madness?”

James looked over, electric razor in hand. “Just getting spiffy for the New Year.”

“But I hate spiffy!” She hopped onto the free space between both their sinks so she could watch. "DO I even get to say goodbye first?"

“It’ll grow back in a day, babe” James said with a laugh. He fired up the razor rather dramatically. He inched it closer to his face, watching Ali as her face fell further and further. With a shake of his head and a smile, he started to shave.

What exactly was it about a guy when they were shaving Ali wondered. She watched a very wonderfully shirtless James roll the electric razor over his jaw, every now and then glancing over at her. The rise of his bicep flexed as he held his cheek taut, leaning into the mirror as he continued. Ali let her eyes roll down his chest and abs to the waistband of his sweats, taking in the whole picture. When she brought her eyes back up again, one side of hair was gone.

“You should leave it like that for the new year.” She grinned at him.

“I could start a whole new trend” he said with a laugh. He held the razor near the other cheek. “Ready?”

Ali nodded sadly, watching as James began to clean the other side of his face. There’s really nothing sadder than watching his beard go bye-bye. But...thankfully... was right. He’d have a shadow by morning, and a short beard by New Year’s. It still cracked her up to watch and pretend she was heartbroken.

When he finished, he washed his face and then grabbed for the bottle of aftershave.

“Wait, wait” Ali said, taking the bottle from him. “Let me.”

James positioned himself between her legs, and she patted his freshly shaven face with the best smelling stuff he had in his repertoire.

As Ali did her thing, James smiled down at her. “You’re kinda goofy.”

“So are you without a beard.”

“You don’t like me anymore?” He felt his face sting a little from the alcohol in the aftershave.

“Nope. Can’t even look at you anymore.”

“That hurts.”

Ali finished and handed him the bottle. He went back to his spot near the sink, Ali’s eyes following him. He looked over at her and smiled as he rinsed his area and ran a wet hand through his hair.

Who the hell am I kidding, he’s beautiful with or without fur. Ali smiled back at him, watching him go through his little routine.

“Tired?”

She nodded. “Very. Long night and lots of guests.”

“Think any of them will be running alongside you in a few days?”

“Good question.” She actually hadn’t considered that. “I can’t think about it though. I didn't have time to tonight, even if I wanted to.”

“That busy, huh?” James wiped his hands on a nearby towel, then held one out for Ali to take. She did, and hopped down off the counter and they moved into the bedroom. “Should mean you’ll sleep easy tonight.”

“Ha! I hope.” Ali let go of James so she could undress. “I have a request though. If I may.”

James fell onto his back on the bed, making sure to get a good view as Ali changed into her always-tiny nightwear. “Ask and you shall receive.” The pants came first, and James watched as flesh came into view. Beautiful, beautiful flesh.

Ali removed her shirt next, then her bra. “It’s a pretty simple request, really.”

James didn’t care. He watched nipples appear and forgot what the question was. “Yeah?”

“Hold me?” Ali slipped a tiny t-shirt on over her breasts and left just her panties on. She crawled up on the bed and positioned herself over James. “Just hold me all night. Nothing else. If your dick slides in, that’s cool too, but I’m trying to make it simple here.”

James busted out laughing. “I think I can manage that. The holding I mean.” He took the hair tie out of her hair for her, letting it spill out and onto his chest. “The other part too, but I don’t want to risk pulling any muscles before the race.”

“Exactly!” Ali leaned in and kissed him, feeling his hand go to the back of her head, fingers disappearing into her hair. “No pulled muscles.”

“Got it.” James kissed her again. “Just holding.” He lifted a hand and caressed her through her shirt, which made her giggle.

“Not that kind of holding, dammit. Can I call a foul?”

He gave her breast a firm squeeze, then lifted both hands away from her. “Two holding calls in a week and neither deserved!”

They kissed again, and Ali rolled off to his side. James wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close so she could rest her head on him.

“This kind of holding is allowed” Ali replied, pressing a kiss to his chest.

James slowly petted her hair, feeling her sigh against him. “Then I’ll hold you all night just like this, then.” He caressed her hair until he felt her fall asleep on him, just as she’d done for him a few nights prior. Even after James had fallen asleep, they remained together in an embrace for most of the night.

* * *

A few hours later, Ali found herself wide awake with zero desire to fall back to sleep. She’d gotten up to pee, but that was an hour ago. Now, as she glanced at the clock, the time read 1:35 am. She rolled over and faced the doorway to the bedroom, pissed that she couldn’t sleep. She knew why, too.

Nerves.

Since it was past midnight, it was officially New Year’s Eve. James didn’t have practice, and Ali didn’t have to work, but the worrying she was doing was enough work on its own that she wished she would just tire out and fall asleep. It was all nervous energy. I wish it was today so I could get it over with.

No such thing, though. Instead, Ali tossed and turned for another hour. Sparing James the annoying of movement she was doing, she got up and went downstairs. Quietly, she turned the tv on, got under the blanket they kept on the couch, and resigned to staying awake the rest of the night. She wasn’t even close to being sleepy, and she’d been so damn tired before. This cannot happen tomorrow. Tonight. Whatever it is. It can’t happen.

Another hour or so later, James woke up to see that Ali wasn’t next to him. He lifted his head from the pillow to look towards the bathroom, but no lights were on there. Rolling onto his back, he listened for her downstairs. When he didn’t hear anything, he groggily rose and went to find her.

When he reached the bottom of the steps, he found her on the couch. With just the light of the Christmas tree and the tv shining, her dark eyes appeared black as they looked at him.

“Hey.”

“You okay, babe?” he asked.

“Couldn’t sleep, and didn’t want to wake you.” She sat up a little, giving him some room on the couch. “I was tossing and turning a lot.”

“What’s the matter?” He was genuinely concerned because there was an odd look in her eyes, and it wasn’t just being awake and unable to sleep.

“Nerves.” Ali shrugged. “No biggie.”

“You need your rest, though.” James pulled some of the blanket over him to take the chill off.

“I know, but thinking about it only makes it worse.”

“How can I help?”

Ali smiled at him. “Don’t think you can, James.”

“But I held you?”

She laughed. “I know.”

“What else can I do?” He rubbed the back of her neck. “I gotta fix this.”

Ali took his hand under the blanket. “Thanks, babe, but I just have to get over it myself.”

James wasn’t about to accept that. He racked his brain to think of a way to calm this girl’s nerves, knowing well enough that the only remedy for a pre-competition nervous spell was to either get it over with, or to wear yourself out that you didn’t have a choice but to sleep.

Bingo.

He looked at her and smiled. “You know what helps me?”

“No, what?” Ali asked.

He turned towards her and pushed her gently back so that she was flat against the couch cushions. She looked at him a bit confused, especially when he removed the blanket from them.

“James?”

“Hmm?” He lifted her shirt and kissed her belly.

“I thought we said no pulled muscles?” she exclaimed, half laughing at him.

“Oh, don’t worry. We’re not fucking.”

“We’re not?” Ali frowned, feeling James’ tongue drift around her belly button, causing her entire stomach to tighten.

“Nope.” His fingers pulled the sides of her panties down as he continued kissing.

Thoughts weren’t flowing smoothly anymore, and Ali looked around the room as she felt James pull her panties down even further. She felt cool air play at her body as it betrayed her, getting wetter and wetter with every lick and kiss James pressed against her skin.

“Wha….” Ali felt him kiss back up her stomach. “What are we doing, then….”

“I’m going down on you” James replied simply. “You’re going to enjoy it. You’re going to cum. And then you’re going to fall asleep.”

A shiver ran through Ali’s body, especially when she felt James tug her panties the rest of the way down her legs. Her slick center felt cold in the chilly air of the room, but James’ mouth was on her within seconds, giving her immediate warmth.

James already knew his plan would work. He wouldn’t allow it to fail. When he felt Ali’s hands sink into his hair, he was actually pissed he didn’t think of this earlier. He planned to bring her to the brink as many times as he needed, only to cool her down again. He planned to do it until she begged him to stop, and then he would give her the release she needed.

And if that didn’t send her to bed happy, he was out of ideas.

* * *