Subverted Cultural Underground

Girls' Night In

2012-04-04T10:03:34Z

Who: Diana Harvey and Nadja Dracht
What: The girls have a night in to 'celebrate' Diana's newfound singledom.
Where: Nadja's apartment
When: Sunday 25th March 2012
Rating: Probably a language warning would be appropriate.

Nadja had been feeling pretty wretched about her grand idea to set up Diana and Stas ever since Diana had told her about Stas' other woman. Getting her friend together with yet another jerk wasn't going to help her get over her idiot ex, so she felt that she hadn't made things any better at best, and might even have made things worse.

Come over, she texted her troubled friend. I have that blue stuff you like.

And by blue stuff I like you mean the shit that had me puking rainbows last time. Oh yes, that had been a good night. She wasn't depressed enough to stay in and Nadja's couch had always been a welcome change of scenery. Give me 20. I need to finish this episode of wife swap.

Nadja had at the time and maintained to this day that the puking was brought on by the addition of jello shots to the mix. But then, it was Halloween and even the candy could have been to blame. I will prepare a bucket, she texted back with a grin that Diana couldn't see, and busied herself tidying up the bathroom while she waited for her to finish with her silly tv show and arrive.

Diana spent most of those last 20 minutes making sure her eye makeup hadn't run from the brief spat of crying she'd allowed herself. She decided she wasn't ready yet for dressing cute and sexy and headed over to Nadja's in her long yoga pants and comfy oversized sweater. These were comfort clothes and she was aiming to ease her heart.

She knocked on Nadj's door, but let herself in before her friend answered. "I brought some peach schnapps," she called. "And a fuckton of cookies."

"Oh, cookies..." Nadja skipped over to her friend after hearing the door latch and threw her arms around her. She wouldn't usually eat cookies, but if Diana wanted some cookie commiseration today, then she'd pig out. "I have got kisel and straight vodka too, but I didn't know how interested you would be in those. And," she added as if sharing a deep, dark secret, "I have pastry in the freezer. Nothing to put in it, but we can put it in the oven and eat it on it's own."

Diana leaned into the hug gratefully. "If I break into tears spontaneously just tell me I'm better off in the long run." She forgot she hadn't yet told Nadja that Stas ended it the night before. The magnificent bastard made his choice and it wasn't her; she couldn't tell if she was sad, mad, or relieved. It was all muddled up in her head still.

"You are better off in the long run," she reassured her dutifully. "Come on," she pulled Diana over to the couch, where the blue drinks were already waiting. "Tell me news." She wasn't expecting anything good from the look on Diana's face; a kind of steely resolve that was cracking from the inside. She was trying to put up a tough front, but Nadja could see that she needed to let it down for a bit.

Diana sat and took a very thoughtful sip of her disturbingly blue wine beverage before replying. "I probably should have seen it coming and I probably am better off." She sighed so heavily she felt something move in her chest, like a burden was being placed or lifted. She couldn't tell. "I gave him a week to pick. He picked her."

"Oh, draga. I am sorry." She couldn't understand how her beautiful, charming friend seemed to find herself stuck with the kinds of idiots who couldn't see that. "He is a fool, and you were far too generous with him. You deserve better."

"Shy says the same thing, but then..." She rolled her eyes and sighed because she wasn't going there right now. "I really, really hate my life right now."

Nadja pulled the slightest face at having agreed with Shy, of all people, but offered her friend another cuddle without comment. "Your life is good. You just have stupid people in it. We will have to properly examine your men before investing your feelings in them. Make sure they are deserving of you. Until then, we will have a girl's party."

"You wanna lesbeen it out with me?" Diana asked with a little hiccuping laugh. It was the only thing that was preventing her from crying all out. She swigged some more of the Boone's Farm and leaned back on the couch. "Let's watch some gay porn and get in the mood."

"Girl gay porn or boy gay porn? We may have to go doorknocking." She laughed, because that was slightly more of an imposition than 'may I borrow a cup of sugar'? "There is a lovely couple on the fifth floor who will have recommendations on boy gay porn. Lara downstairs will know about girl gay porn."

Diana's hiccup laugh turned into full of giggling. "What kind of porn do you have?"

"Only that video Leif and I made," she said, teasing. She almost managed to say it with a straight face, too.

"Now that I would watch," she answered tartly. "Too bad you don't have any popcorn. Though I'm sure Leif would die of mortification." It was nice for a moment to forget everything else and tease her friend. "I bet you had one of your professional photographers come in and shoot it too. Designed the lighting, the costuming. Not that you need a lot of costuming for a porno."

"It's all in the angles," Nadja agreed. "Nice artsy porno." Then she nearly died laughing because she couldn't for a second imagine being able to remain professional on a shoot like that. She could barely help herself giggling like a schoolgirl when it was just her and Leif in the apartment.

"I bet he has a nice dick too," Diana said salaciously. She stretched out her hands, back and forth to indicate length and then gesturing with one hand to indicate width. "Maybe hangs to one side, but don't they all? I seem to keep ending up with lefties."

"Oh! Do they really? I never noticed; I will have to go looking now!" Nadja laughed. "Would it be more polite to ask which is the favoured side, or should I just dive in with the element of surprise?"

"Ask him; boys love to talk about dicks." Diana was just cracking herself up now, sipping on the wine beverage and mocking boys in general.

Nadja shrugged. "Probably only their own. I don't imagine they much like talking about other dicks." Then she laughed because they were just throwing the word 'dick' around like confetti tonight, and they hadn't even started in on using it as an insult yet. "We should see if the arthouse is still playing Shame. We'll feel vile and dirty and you'll get big screen dick all at once."

"No, no," she replied with an obscene gesture of her hand. "I already feel vile and dirty." And just a bit devious, all but talking Shylock back into her pants. She frowned. He must really like that girl to avoid jumping back into bed with her. "I'd rather watch movies with that derp-face Hugh Grant."

"So charming though. Even with the derpface." She wasn't entirely certain of what a derpface was, but supposed that might be the term for that constantly baffled, pinch-faced look he wore. "His hair bothers me. I liked it in Love Actually. But when it's long it reminds me of an octopus."

"There's an octopus on Hugh Grant's head. It's suck out all his... Oh wait, no danger. No brains." Diana grinned and toasted to Hugh Grant's derpface. "Fucking romance. Fuck all of that noise. Let's make a female fight club, but instead of fighting we'll just fuck a bunch of random dudes. It'll be FUCK CLUB."

Nadja grinned. "So the rule about no shirts and no shoes still applies, I see. That is a shame. I feel very sexy in heels and one of Leif's shirts."

"Girl, boys would be lining around the block to see you in your birthday suit. Shit, they already do." Though she couldn't recall if Nadja had ever done a nude spread, even a tasteful artsy one. Those jobs tended to play less than the pirate hooker selling booze ads Nadja most often did. "Wonder if I could make any money at it."

"My agent would love you. Except, your hair would be at her mercy," she teased. "You would be so hot in a little black bob."

Diana huffed in offense. She'd never let anyone touch her hair, least of all to dye it or cut it into a *gasp* bob. "I'll have to find some other profession then," she sighed, amused. "Or maybe just sell my soul to Beezlebub for all the wealth and power I need." Then she giggled. "Or get me a sugar daddy."

"That wouldn't be a problem for Fuck Club, would it?" Nadja giggled. "Oh, men. Always in the way of your grand ideas. Or-- you could charge them to join. Like the gym! Monthly membership. Steady income, exorbitant exit fees... yep, you will be set for life."

"Fuck club it is," Diana agreed and toasted her beverage to the finish, pouring herself another generous portion. This shit tasted like candy and went down like water; she'd be fucked up in no time. "Not a bad profession, honestly. Get laid all day. Get paid to have orgasms. I should just fly out to Vegas and see if I can get a job at a bunny ranch. Why waste all my money on education when I already have a marketable skill?"

Bunny ranch? Nadja squinted a little, deep in thought. She wasn't sure if the alcohol was playing havoc with her brain or not, but either way she was fairly certain it was a definite shift from fuck club to cute, fluffy pets. "Do people pay much money for bunnies in Vegas?" Of course, very strange things happened in Vegas, she knew that much. But... bunnies?

Diana broke into giggles. Some things always got lost in translation. "Whore houses," she answered, though the question hadn't been asked. "I have no idea why they call them bunny ranches. And yes, they pay very much money for bunnies in Vegas."

Her eyes widened, and she squeaked in shock. What a strange thing to call a whore house! "Oh, no, Diana. Not a whore house. Think of all the skeevies and nasties. I like the other plan better. Get a sugar daddy."

Diana snorted. "I could try to get off with one of my professors. I'm sure one of them is looking for a lovely redhead to keep." They were all stuffed shirts at Heaton, old money and old values. At least one of them had to believe in the value of showering presents on a fit, young thing in exchange for dubious favors.

"Professor Partridge," Nadja giggled, thinking of the oldest, fattest, most decrepit person at Heaton she knew of.

"Oh jesus no," Diana shouted, spitting out a good mouthful of the blue stuff. She giggled and tripped over Nadja's long legs on her way to the kitchen to find some paper towels to wipe up the mess and perhaps clean up herself a bit. The front of her sweatshirt, sadly, would be blue forevermore. When she came back, a growing wet spot on her front and a set of towels to mop up her disaster she gently slapped the back of Nadja's head. "Give me some credit. I have taste."

"You said nothing about taste. Only money." She defended herself, and then offered an uncharacteristically devious grin. "He's tenured," she teased, as though that could possibly make him any more attractive. "And he drives a Volvo!"

"So do shiny vampires," Diana replied matter of factly. "I vowed never to trust a man in a volvo ever again."

Nadja shrugged. "It could be worse? Men in Porsches are always overcompensating. I think it is a rule. You must be measured and fall short before you are eligible to buy one. Over a certain length and they say 'sorry, but you do not meet our requirements. Go buy a... something else'."

"What about girls in Porsches? Do they fail the clit test?" Diana giggled obscenely and poured herself a fresh glass of Boone's. "Fuck it. It's cookie time." She broke out some of her stash and passed a few to Nadja while nibbling on one herself. "Man, all this dick talk has me ravenous."

She shook her head and started giggling. "I do not know what the clit test is and I do not want to know. Girl Porsche drivers may have a pass for now." She nibbled her way around the outside of a cookie, slowly working her way to the center in a spiral. She found that obsessing over the cookie in such a way made it last longer, and then she ate fewer. "We should get out the Bailey's and dunk them."

"Solid," Diana nodded encouragingly. Dunking anything in Bailey's seemed like a good idea.

Nadja crashed around in the kitchen for a bit, finally finding the bottle stashed behind some boxes of cereal in the pantry rather than in the cupboard above the fridge with the rest of the booze. She had some ideas about how it might have wound up there, but nothing conclusive. She returned, holding it up to the ceiling lamp to see how full it was. "I am not sure how this will mix with our blue stuff, so only baby steps." She made Diana promise to take it easy before handing it over, holding out two coffee mugs in the other hand.

The Ultimatum

2012-03-18T04:06:57Z

Who: Diana Harvey and Anastas de Kooning
What: Stas takes Diana out on a painfully awkward date.
Where: Out in Pleasantview, back on the Dresden Campus
When: March 17th. Day of the Green Beer Celebrations.
Rating: NSFW (language more than anything else)

Their dates were strained now, though he made more of an effort to skip off campus and see her over the weekends. He could apparate to a safe spot just off campus or near her house to pick her up. They tended to go to restaurants, but movies were the best. Those dates removed all need for conversation.

He didn't have the grace for it this evening. He seemed to say the wrong thing at every turn and regretted not taking her to the theatre.

She snarled at him from across the table: "don't try to simplify me by making yourself seem more complicated."

He was telling her in the sketchiest possible details about his childhood. The death of his mother, how hard it was to live with his father, that he'd never gotten along with his brothers. He thought maybe a small picture of his dysfunctional youth might ease her some, but it only made her angrier. He didn't reply right away and she took that as a reason to plow over him.

"And you think it was a peach growing up in a family just waiting to indoctrinate me into their religion? Trying to shield my sister from it?"

Anastas couldn't tell her that her parents' religion was very close to the surface of his reality. She was a witch, in the pagan sense. A priestess in the order her family practiced with. Whether her magic worked or was like anything he could compare his own to, he didn't know.

He frowned at her, because her childhood was nothing like his. It would be like comparing apples to a whole roasted cow. So dissimilar that he couldn't even think oranges. That was without even bringing up the childhood abuse that he told no one about. Or watching his father kill a man with a simple swish of his wand. Those were details that never made it to the table.

He wanted to ask her what she wanted him to say. He was opening up, wasn't he? Not as far as she wanted, but further than he usually did. "I cannot imagine," he replied quietly.

It quelled her for the time being. They finished their dinner in silence. Diana skipped her usual dessert and they walked home early. She put her hand on his chest at the door, warding off a goodnight kiss. "I'm not happy."

He was relieved for a moment that he didn't have to ask. It was clear what this was about. He still hadn't decided, even though it was becoming more precarious juggling the two women warring in his affections. No one would be happy until he decided and then at least one person would be terribly unhappy. "I understand."

"If you really understood you'd stop fucking around and decide." She didn't bother to lower her voice when a student passed them. She wouldn't give him the privacy he must crave for this sensitive conversation. Diana had stopped caring about his feelings at some point. Are you embarrassed? her eyes seemed to challenge. Well, too goddamn bad.

"I am trying," he attempted, lowering his voice. "I am not doing well in classes, spending all of my time thinking about you."

"And her," Diana added aggressively. She wasn't going to let him off the hook tonight. "I want an answer right now."

"I have no answer to give."

"You fucking do," she yelled. She wanted to make a scene, tear her hair out in frustration, kick him, beat at his chest until he understood how much this meant to her. But she wanted to walk away, to be done with it, done with him and his indecision. She was beginning to understand how conflicted he was and damn the bastard for eliciting any amount of sympathy from her. "I can't pretend anymore," she said defeated. She sagged into his chest, head resting above his beating heart. It was that very thing that she had captured and was now struggling to keep.

Very carefully his arms moved to wrap around her. He rested his lips on her very red hair. "One more week?" he asked. If he couldn't decide in one more week he would let them both go. Because he wasn't going to continue torturing everyone involved.

She pulled away from him slowly and looked into his eyes for a very long time. Eventually her mind stepped in to agree and she took a deep breath. "One more week. By this time next Saturday I expect to know if it's her or me."

He nodded in response, not trusting his voice to give away how terrifying that prospect was. He didn't get his goodnight kiss, watched Diana walk away from him with hunched shoulders. Returning to his usual spot behind her dorms he apparated back to that spot outside Dresden. Ambling along the path, he enjoyed the darkness of the woods between St. George's Way and the school. The lawns were a bit brighter, but not by much. The chesire cat grin of the moon didn't do much to light the grass, and the lights of the dorms didn't reach this far out.

He took his time on the way up to Hudson House. There was a pleasant nip in the air and the sounds of celebration from somewhere nearby. Must have won Quidditch. He didn't care much for the sport anyway. His time was better spent trying to make up his mind.

He was going to head straight to his dorm, but then he changed his mind and headed toward University House. The only person who could help settle his mind tonight was Bernadine.

There are rules about hanging out with your ex.

2012-03-12T14:03:03Z

Who: Diana Harvey and Shylock Wilson
What: Diana needs her BFF to comfort her over her boy troubles... except, he is a boy trouble.
Where: Her living room.
When: Just then!
Rating: lol so nsfw

Diana didn't get too many opportunities to spend time with Shylock alone anymore. Not that she minded Abernathy; she actually rather liked her and felt that the girl was an improvement in Shylock's life.

It was just that sometimes she wanted to talk with her best friend and the third wheel act was getting old. Ditch your girl and come deal with my problems for me, she texted. If nothing else it would get his attention.

Will there be beverages? He texted back, though he was already reaching for his hoodie and looking for the car keys. He did miss Diana. That was absolutely not to say that he resented all the time he spent with his girlfriend, or that she didn't fulfil all his needs... he just missed hanging out with Diana. Are you at home or school?

If you bring them. She rolled off her bed and peeked in her mirror to make sure she was presentable. Home. And Prissy's with friends so we have the house to ourselves for once.

He rolled his eyes and laughed. Tell her thanks from six months ago. Could have used the privacy way back when. He stopped by the fridge on the way to the garage, and found nothing of note save some wine coolers. It was going to be a classy night in on Diana's living room floor, by the sounds of it. He tucked them under his arm and made his way to the car, throwing the drinks onto the passenger seat for the trip to her house.

Once there, he bashed on the front door (because for some reason, Diana's family never ever just left it unlocked). "Did someone order a strippergram?"

Diana rushed downstairs to let him in. "Jesus, Shy, wake the neighbors?" She pulled him inside and stole one of his wine coolers before he could say no. "You should have stopped at Price Rite and picked up some Boone's Farm while you were at it. And some cookie dough. Girl's Night In and all," she teased, poking him in the side and sipping her beverage.

"Except we went to school with everyone who works there and they know I'm not 21. You're shit out of luck until August." He dumped the rest of the alcohol (though really, could you call it that with such low content?) on the coffee table and sprawled out on the couch so she didn't get to sit. "Girl's Night In? Shit, how bad is it?"

"I'll sweet talk Nadj into getting us some of the good stuff before then." Shylock tended to forget that Diana wasn't the least bit squeamish about sitting on him and she proceeded to plop onto his stomach as if it were the best seat in the house. She allowed herself a moment of doubt, a singular moment of distress before she shrugged. "I suppose it's not as bad as it could be, but I'm beginning to think I'm being a very, very stupid girl."

He made a deflating kind of noise as she squashed the air out of him. "Fine, not like I need to breathe anyway." He grabbed her to shift her into a slightly more comfortable position on him, and then folded his hands behind his head to look up at her. "Is 'not as bad as it could be' optimism or denial?" He knew better than to make comment on whether or not she was being a very stupid girl by now.

"A little of column A, a lot of column B." She slumped against him, almost like the good old days when neither of them cared what this kind of physical affection meant. "Stas kissed another girl at a party."

"Doesn't that make him a very, very stupid boy and not the other way around? Did he tell you or did someone else?" He didn't move away from the closeness, because that was just their way.

"Probably. He told me himself." She picked at her finger nails before remembering she had a drink and picked her cooler back up for a hearty chug. "I suppose that's a semi-good sign. He's torn about it and being honest. I couldn't help feeling though that I could make it so much easier altogether if I told him to go run off and be with his bizarro..." Diana trailed away, realizing something she'd been happy to ignore up until now.

Shy's girlfriend Abernathy had a twin named Bernadine. Bernadine wasn't a particularly common name, certainly not around here. And Bernadine was the girl Anastas kissed. She finished off her wine cooler, but couldn't be bothered to get up for another.

Shy giggled at her announcement that the other girl was a bizarro something. "Diana... did you get cheated on with a hunchback with multiple arms? That's the real problem, isn't it. You just don't approve of her enough to wear the ego bruise."

Diana sighed because it was just something the Ford sisters did. They stole the men she was involved in, usurped their interest until she was left alone and trying to figure out exactly what happened. "I think she's your girlfriend's sister."

"... oh." It hadn't occurred to him that Bernadine's Stas was also Diana's Stas. In an ordinary situation it might have been obvious, but he had been very preoccupied at the party trying to juggle Abernathy and Bernadine's little switching act. He hadn't been paying that much attention to the similarities. "There were a lot of Russians at that party," he defended himself weakly.

Diana looked at him like a parent about to scold a child. "As if I'd send you to a party to babysit my wayward boyfriend. He was perfectly capable of deciding not to kiss anyone." She sighed again, slumping into him more. "I know you and Abby are really great, but what is it about those girls? Does their family have some kind of magic mojo that let's them steal all of my boyfriends? What did I ever do to them?" she tried joking, but it came off sounding half-cocked and disheartened.

He shrugged at her. "I didn't mean I'd babysit him." He meant that he'd have done something patently obnoxious (probably) because the fact of the matter remained that he still cared for Diana and didn't want to see her get hurt. He raised his eyebrow at the next part, alarmed by her choice of the word 'magic'. "I don't think Bernadine would do something like that on purpose..." He didn't know her very well, but she didn't seem the type. "She probably didn't know he had a girlfriend." After all, the other kids from their school seemed to think that they were boyfriend and girlfriend.

"No, she knows about me," Diana replied. She didn't even know if that was the worst part. "I can't date again until after they're both dead, I'm guessing. Since one of them will get the alarm that I'm seeing someone and swoop in to steal them away." Then she groaned. "Jesus, you're the worst person to have this conversation with. I'm sorry Shy. I just don't even know what to do. Usually I'd just dump the ass and move on, but I really thought..." I really liked this ass.

He wrinkled his nose. "Well, I'd like to hope Abby isn't going to go after any of your future boyfriends." Then he decided to try and cheer her up with teasing. "You could turn lesbian. But they have a brother." Then he started laughing so hard his entire body shook and he could feel her sliding off him from the movement. "I'm sorry. This isn't funny."

She frowned at him, but at least he was trying to be apologetic. She got up and grabbed all of the booze he brought over, bringing it within reach of the couch. She kicked at his feet to make a little nest for herself and cracked one open, downing it in three greedy gulps. "Maybe I should just date their brother. They wouldn't try to steal him away."

"Awkward." He bent his legs and set his feet against her thighs. "Can you imagine Christmas dinner? Every guy in that room would have seen you naked." Then he remembered she was holding an empty bottle which would make a very handy weapon. "In a completely coincidental, non-skanky kind of way."

Diana snorted unattractively and lolled her head on the back of the couch. "What the fuck is wrong with me? Or them? It has to be one of us." She was thinking herself or the Ford sisters, but then she was starting to think maybe it was something to do with their boyfriends. My boyfriends. Goddamnit.

Shy shrugged. "You're a lot alike. Got similar tastes. Abby's ex was there; another Russian. So, there you go. It's not vicious, you're just getting in each others' ways."

Diana wanted to glare at him, but what came out was an almost sympathetic look. To be the boy caught between the women who seemed to go after the same men all the time. "I thought this fucking town was bigger than that."

"It's really not." He made grabby hands at the booze and looked at her. "Give. And besides, even if it was. Your taste is questionable."

She passed him a spare cooler begrudgingly, but not before placing a well aimed elbow entirely too close to his groin in warning. "Listen here, my taste is just fucking fine." Then she was giggling, because wasn't Shylock just her taste? "Oh my god, I've got a thing for douchebags who are into redheads."

"Like I said! Questionable!" He took the drink with one hand and protected his junk with the other. "You thought I was a good idea. Twice. How much more proof do you need?"

She groaned at him, just generally because he had a horrible, awful point. And I'd take you back again, you silly bastard. She was thankfully just sober enough to keep that in and just tipsy enough that the thought didn't really bother her. "Oh come on. You're a prize douchebag. Any stupid bitch would be lucky to bag you. And I did it twice. Must count for something." She clinked bottles with him and finished her third. "I think mom has a few bottles of shitty wine in the cupboard. Pick out a pathetic romantic movie we can cry about." And with that she was off the couch and looking for her mother's wine stash.

He grumbled something about not needing to cry over some crappy movie specifically designed to make you feel crappy about your life, but obediently rolled off the couch and crawled over to the DVD shelf on hands and knees to find something. He picked out Legally Blonde after a short search, because at least that one was entertaining more than soppy mush.

She returned with two bottles of wine and a corkscrew. "One for you and one for me!" she proclaimed and plunked down onto the couch to try and finagle one open. It took her a few tries and she was pretty sure the white wine was riddled with bits of cork, but she managed to crack them both open. "Fucking sad sack shits drink out of bottles right?" she asked and started drinking the red before he could answer.

"Who's a sad sack shit?" He protested. "I'm fucking golden." He sat beside her and started drinking out of the bottle nevertheless, pinkie out because that's what classy bitches did when they drank wine out of the bottle. "And you're better than that. You just want to watch a shit film and get wasted on cheap wine and have something to blame it on."

"Oh fine, you got me!" she said lifting her hands and the bottle of wine with it. Then she giggled. Oh fuck, what was the proof on those wine coolers? "Did you get those beverages from some skeevy guy on a street corner? I think we've been roofied." Which made her laugh even harder so that she was leaned up on him to hold herself erect. "Shylock, push fucking play. Let's get this shitshow started."

He grinned and slid off the edge of his seat, toeing the DVD player until he hit play before wriggling back up onto the couch. "I got them out of the shared fridge-- dad could have put them there as an experiment in social lubrication. Technically he doesn't have to apply for AMA approval if it's on me," he joked. "You're just collateral damage."

"Is it okay that I'm skeeved out that your dad is trying to lubricate you at all?"

"Oh now I'm grossed out, thanks. I meant it in its least nasty sense!" He elbowed her and stole the red from her, replacing it with the slightly corked-up white. "You're twisted."

"Red before white and you're all right?" she asked, trying to remember one of those clever drinking rhymes to figure out if she was proper fucked or not. As to whether or not she was twisted. "You know... I have to be. Dealing with you bitches and your bitches stealing my bitches. Bitches, bitches everywhere, but not a bitch for me." She giggled into the bottle of white wine before slugging down an unhealthy amount. "You are such a fag for picking out this movie."

He poked his tongue out at her. "This is your fault for not having anything with Mila Kunis in it. You're the one who wanted to watch a shitty romantic film anyway, so quit your bitching. I'm doing this for you. I am an angel. A fucking angel!"

"Above reproach," she agreed and toasted to him silently. "But really, you've still got that bug up your ass for Mila Kunis?" She snorted in between giggles and sips of wine. "It's like... You're surrounded by super hot redheads and you've still got a thing for Kunis. I don't get your brain. It's like... cross-wired for cross-purposes. It must be dreadful living in there all the time." She began to poke the side of his head gently, setting her bottle aside for the time being.

"She's gorgeous, shut up." He squinted one eye shut as she began stabbing him in the head with her finger. "It is amazing in my brain. You wouldn't believe the things you do in there," he teased, wondering if it would still get a rise out of her when she was so tipsy.

"Oh my god, I do too know the things I get up to in your brain." She stopped poking him and kept her hands to herself for a full minute. "I think we acted out quite a number of your fantasies. Few of mine too," she admitted. "Willing to bet there's still a few really fucked up ones in there that we didn't get to. Shame that," she teased with an overly dramatic and very drunken sigh.

Damnit. She always managed to turn these things back around on him. His interest was piqued. "In my head or yours? Just how many fucked up fantasies do you have?" He offered his bottle to her. "Start talking."

"Ha!" She took his bottle and drank rather happily. "You can have the white." She thrust her other bottle back at him. "Might purify your thoughts a bit. We did everything I could think of. Except fucking in the produce aisle. Oh, and that thing in the phone booth with the lollipops. But I didn't really want to do that one after all. I know you have more original material in your brain-space. Spill it. I want deets."

He shrugged and took a big swig from the white. "Nothing all that fucked up. Paint you. Get you to tie me up with your panties. Go see a film at the cinema, slide my hand up your skirt and see if I can't make you come without anyone noticing... Actually, that one could be pretty fucked up, depending on the film."

"You could never make me come without someone noticing," she assured him. They'd been kicked out of far too many places for fooling around; her inability to moan quietly tended to doom them from the start. "I could still tie you up in my panties if you wanted," she teased. "Maybe invite Abby over. See what she wants to do with her naughty boy."

"Somehow, I think she'd kill me if I let you get your panties anywhere near me. Shoelaces, cable ties you could maybe get away with. Panties is probably crossing a line." He grinned wickedly. "So nice of you to think of her though. You never mentioned the threeway fantasy."

Diana coughed into her wine bottle, but she wasn't about to deny that she'd thought about it. She wasn't the best sharer, but she still wanted him in some respects. Goddamn body. Goddamn mind of its own. Treacherous fucker. "Don't know what you're talking about," she mumbled before taking a generous swig.

"Oh, so it's watching. You want to watch me fuck somebody else," he teased back, entirely terrible. "That's hot. I had no idea you were such a pervert."

"I'd make her watch first," Diana replied casually. "Then I'd watch. Then of course, you could get a show if she was inclined." She figured that last image would have him hot and confused and wasn't that some kind of special ex-fuck-buddy revenge?

He grinned again. "She'd fight you for it. I can just see it; starts out as a catfight, before you've touched each other so much you're just overwhelmed with lust and start getting down. Think I'm watching first, then." He paused, waving the bottle at her. "Fuck off. I need some alone time."

"Oh hell no. You're not running off the bathroom to take care of your redheaded lesbian delight fantasy during my pity party. No way. You sit there with that erection and think about you've done!"

"I am thinking about what I've done! And you started it-- I'm thinking about what you've done!" He wrenched himself up into a sitting position to steal the red back off her. "Pity party your ass. You're having the time of your life doing this to me."

"I am," she admitted gleefully. Then she kicked at him and made grabby hands because she was out of wine. "As if you weren't thinking of it before I just barely suggested it. You're a bigger pervert than I am. I bet you and Abby get up to all kinds of..." She trailed off. "Nope. I don't want to know about it."

He cradled both bottles and shook his head at her. "They're mine now. You won't let me beat off then I have to drink this boner away." He made no comment on what he did or did not get up to with Abby. She'd either give him hell about being whipped, or laugh herself to tears at the fact that she wouldn't let him touch her in public.

"You never get whiskey dick that bad. You'd need two more bottles of wine." It was both a compliment and a ploy to get a bottle back. "I'd let you rub off on me, but I dunno how your conscience would fare." Hers, she was certain, would be just fine with it. Then she giggled, because the whole thing was so stupid. "Dumb horny boy. You're not supposed to distract me by suggesting we call up your girlfriend and ask her for a three-way because her sister is stealing my boyfriend. How does your brain work?"

He giggled back at her, because at one point in time that's exactly what he would have done if she'd done this to him. "I didn't suggest anything. You started with the threesome shit. This is like, your super-convoluted revenge plan. So you can tell Stas that for every girl he makes out with on you, you'll turn around and fuck her sister and hangers-on." He drank from each bottle, then eyed them off and held the white back within her reach. "Well, let me tell you something, baby, that's not going to work. He'll just kiss more girls so he can think about you fucking their sisters."

Diana yanked the bottle back from him and cradled it to her chest. "Fuckers. Fucking men. Honestly. I'm going gay after this. I will fuck every chick at Heaton. I'll make a calendar of it. 365 Finger Bangs With Diana."

"Can I pre-order? Maybe get the making-of DVD? VIP access to the signing?" He offered her a wide, innocent smile. "What, you think you get away from us that easy?"

"You can have your imagination because your girlfriend would never share anyway." She pouted, because it was a horrible idea, but at least she'd have a piece of her Shy back. "And I'm keeping all of the calendars. In a lock box. In my vagina."

He raised an eyebrow in a dramatic quirk. "How big a print run is this going to be?"

She slapped at him in response, using her other hand to pour the last of the white down her throat. As soon as it was finished she set the bottle on the table and tackled him properly to wrestle him to the carpet.

He crashed off the couch with her close behind. "No! No no nonono! Stop it! I need a couple inches personal space right now!" He got a hand up by her shoulder and another by her neck to hold her off. "Mostly in the crotchal region. Okay, entirely in that area." He squealed as she whacked him again. "All the areas!"

Her hand happened to brush up against that area. Entirely by accident, she assured herself and her eyes opened wide. "Oh my god, you really do have an erection." She kept her hand there a minute longer than was at all appropriate and then rolled to the side, spooning him from the back. She squeezed him tight in her arms. "You still want to bone me! That's awesome!"

"You were talking about panties! And being a lesbian! And..." He sighed as she squished him. "Yeah, I still do." I hope Abby never ever hears of this.

Whether or not she actually got boned didn't seem to matter, that someone still wanted her (that someone being someone she still wanted too) was enough to settle her mind on the matter at hand. "Well, if you ever... You know... That's awesome..." she repeated instead of stating what should be clearly obvious to both of them. Then she decided she'd just say it out loud. "Let's just get your girlfriend drunk and see what happens."

"At least if she's drunk I get a five second headstart before she kills me," he moaned into the carpet. "Was 'fucking a dead guy' high on your kink list?" Then he started laughing because, seriously, what the fuck?

Diana giggled with him and squeezed him harder. "I wouldn't do anything to get you dead. Promise. You've just got to make her think it was her idea. Then everybody wins and we all get laid!"

He was pretty certain there was no way he could make Abernathy think that having a threesome with his ex was a good idea, let alone an idea that she'd come up with; as nice the thought of bedding the both of them was. She wouldn't even kiss him in front of other people-- having sex in front of someone else (let alone with) just seemed completely out of the realm of possibility. "I don't know how," he whined. "She'd never go for it."

She groaned. "I'd have better luck getting Stas and Bernadine to sleep with me." It was truer than she knew, but not a solution she fancied. "I bet she's a monster in bed," Diana mused, half annoyed, half toying with the idea. It'll never work. "Oh Shylock. Why can't I find someone just for me?"

He tried not to smirk at her wondering about whether or not Bernadine was a monster in bed, because if she was anything like Abby... "Who says you haven't? Just 'cause you don't know you did doesn't mean you didn't. Maybe he's your lobster but he's just not done screwing around yet?" He knew it wasn't exactly the most comforting advice, but he never had been too good at that.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" she moaned into his back. "I'm not fucking a lobster."

He rolled his shoulder back into her. "You so watched Friends. Your lobster. You know. 'Cause they mate for life or some shit."

"I'm not the type to mate for life," she replied almost soberly. She squished into him even harder in defiance. "I don't even like lobster."

"If you're not interested in mating for life then why do you need someone just for you! Share it around some." He wiggled back into her. "Go fuckwild."

She punched his ass in response to that. "Bitch, I'm trying, but it's not working!"

"Try harder! You've got like a whole school full of virgin nerd mama's boys at your fingertips; start in on 'em." He rolled over so she couldn't punch his ass anymore and set a knee on top of her thigh so she couldn't knee him in the junk. "Go be the biggest sluttiest slut Heaton's ever seen."

She could have cried really. Instead she leaned up and pressed a sloppy, needy kiss to his lips. "Stop telling me how to feel," she insisted, glad at least that the kiss had shut him up for a good minute.

He'd only shut up because he was blindsided; drunk on Diana's living room floor, hard, and with her pressed up against him and kissing him. "I didn't tell you how to feel. I told you what to do." And apparently, you listened. After a few minutes of staring at each other, he eased himself off her again, and sat up on the floor with his hands to himself, lost in his thoughts.

Oh disappointment. We are good friends, aren't we? Diana sighed, but she refused to apologize. And damnitall, didn't he want to kiss her too? "Fucking wine," she said, but it was the most half-assed excuse she'd ever tossed out. "Fucking. Fuck."

It was the wine. Of course it was the wine. It was the wine that had him hard and wanting to kiss her back. But really he knew, it wasn't the wine. If it was just that, he wouldn't have stopped himself. He'd have given in, because he was drunk and he couldn't help himself and that's completely not his fault. That was the wine. Stopping him was Abby, and how he loved her. He sighed and reached over to squish her face with his hand. "We have such a drinking problem."

"Yep." It was all she could manage to say. She curled herself up into a little ball on the floor, arms wrapped around her knees, hair splayed out over the carpet. She couldn't look at him because she was afraid to see all the guilt and the conflict there. And wasn't she the one baiting him. Jesus, she was starting to feel horrible for trying to steal him back. Either of her boyfriends. How is this my life?

He tilted his head at her. "Can I go fuck myself in the bathroom now?"

Oh for the love of... "Yes, Jesus. Get it done so we can go back to being awkward without your boner pointed at my head."

"It's only pointed at your head because you're staring at it," he scoffed, and dragged himself off the floor to go shut himself in the bathroom and finish himself off.

Diana Harvey Plays Carmen Sandiago

2012-03-09T11:19:07Z

Who: Diana and Leif
When/Where: Friday morning. His apartment.
What: Diana pokes Leif for information on her wayward boyfriend.
Rating: SFW.

Diana didn't know Leif very well, but she needed more information on Stas. She wanted to know more about his life before and she was in no mood to talk to him after his recent pronouncement. She found Leif's address, booked it across town, and knocked on his apartment door.

"You looking for Nadj?" he asked when he finally got around to answering the door.

He looked groggy, like he'd been napping, but Diana pushed by and into the apartment anyway. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you."

He tussled his own hair, in utter disarray from being crushed on his pillow. He had to drive out to the county lock up overnight and assist a woman who only spoke Cantonese. He'd only just gotten home two hours ago and finally laid down to sleep when Diana came bursting in. "Is it desperately important?" he asked, trying not to sound as rude as he felt.

"It might be." She needed to know if there was precedent for this. She had to know just what she might be up against.

"So?" he asked, gesturing her into a chair and trying not to groan over the fact that he wasn't getting back to sleep anytime soon. He'd make Diana treat him to coffee later to make up for it.

"Tell me what you know about Anastas."

"Wouldn't you learn more asking him?"

"A lot gets lost in translation." She fibbed; Stas' English was so good now he hardly need the tutelage of the translator. "Plus he gets hedgy about what happened before he came to Burnham."

Leif leveled his gaze at her. She seemed sincere enough, but it felt more like gossiping than helping someone out. "I'm not very comfortable giving out the kind of private information."

"Oh don't give me that crap," she said rather breezily. "You didn't sign a contract. Translators can't violate HIPPA."

She did have a point there. "What exactly do you want to know?"

"Everything you know about him," she insisted. "Anything you can tell me."

That didn't narrow her expectations down enough for him, and as squeamish as he was he figured if he started with the brutal truth she might be willing to drop this line of inquiry. "I know there was a girl before he left. Two girls that he went back and forth between. They each had their own... Things that he liked about them. They were very different, but each held his interest long enough to make a connection."

Diana listened quietly, half expecting tales of his many girls to surfacing. It was simple math that during the course of the conversation she'd hit one of this road bumps, especially given how Stas had confessed his attraction to Bernadine. Diana thought it very shrewd of Leif to start out this way.

Leif watched for her reaction and when she didn't say anything he plowed ahead. "They were both with him while he was in the hospital, but not while he was conscious. He had to get his room changed when he came out of the coma. He made sure his brother didn't tell either girl where he was moved. He said he couldn't face either of them."

She made a slight sound, just a little rough exhale of air. It was as much a confirmation that she was still listening as it was a commentary on Anastas and his situation. "Does he talk to either of them?"

Leif shrugged. "If he does he hasn't said so. I know he didn't want to mess things up with you and drag you all through that whole stupid ordeal."

Oh, but he already has. Diana didn't say anything for several minutes. She couldn't tell Leif that Stas hadn't really changed, not as much as she needed him to. Still, she couldn't let Anastas win by deciding for him. "So what happened after his hospital stay?"

"He moved in with his brother. Val got a custodial guardianship and he's been looking after him since. He was pushing him to go back to school and finally Stas figured he should probably finish his senior year, even if just to get Val off his back. Plus a GED didn't seem like a good option for someone who could hardly speak or read English."

Diana frowned in thought. Maybe he'd finish his year at his special Adirondack school and decide to go to college. Maybe he'd enroll in Heaton to be with her. Maybe not. She thought his mind was probably already made up. Why not just stay with his Dresden girl? "And you still don't know if he's talked with any of his exes?"

"I doubt it," Leif replied. As honorable and nice a guy as Stas was trying to be now, he certainly didn't start out that way. It seemed like he burned those bridges so thoroughly that he couldn't even take a step back and apologize or give those other girls some closure.

"Do you know if they knew about each other?"

He shook his head now, because this really was too much. "You should really ask Anastas." He'd already divulged more than he was comfortable sharing. If Diana really wanted to know she'd have to ask the man himself.

Diana huffed, but this was about as far as she'd expected to get with Leif. Anything else would have to come from Anastas directly. She could cobble together a plan tonight and sweetly demand that he come visit her for the weekend, since there was some archaic policy in place at his school that prevented visitors who weren't blood relatives from coming through the gates. It was the best she could do and she nodded politely to Leif as she let herself out of his apartment with a slight thank you and a heavy frown.

Same Old Problem

2012-02-25T05:07:19Z

Who: Anastas and Diana
When: Morning, Tuesday, February 21st
Where: Her dorm room
What: Anastas and Diana have another serious chat.
Rating: SFWish. Language.

When he woke up that afternoon tangled in Bernadine's bed, he knew he'd acted very rashly.

He couldn't blame it on drugs or alcohol, having been sober the entire evening. Maybe it was the scent of B's shampoo, or the way she handled herself after the fight. No, it was earlier than that. He'd been thinking about kissing her again since the first time.

But before last night they'd been very careful of each other. Never too close. Never too comfortable. Leaving before the temptation grew to an untenable point.

He'd have to tell Diana. His newly grown conscience wouldn't let him slide this one under the table. Bernadine knew the truth, it was time Diana did as well.

He said good morning before he left, looking back at Bernadine momentarily before he picked his way out of the house (still littered with sleeping, drunken students) and apparated as close as he could to Diana's dorm. She had an early afternoon class that she'd probably be getting ready for. His timing was shit, but there was nothing for it. He had to tell her the truth.

She was genuinely surprised to see him, happy except for the look on his face. He had bad news; she didn't need her tarot cards to tell her that. Her roommate, thankfully, was out and she ushered Stas in to sit.

He took a seat at her desk, not the comfortable edge of her bed. It was an unconscious decision, but he could see the effect on Diana immediately.

"Are you breaking up with me?" she asked without preamble. She'd had enough of flaky men in her life. She knew his track record and was willing to overlook it, up to a point. She didn't want to waste time with him if he wasn't going to try and change.

What she couldn't know was that he had changed, perhaps not in the best sense of the word, but still there had been progress. Coming to her first thing this morning, in person, that was a tremendous change in his behavior. "I kissed someone last night."

Diana's jaw dropped open for a moment while she contemplated killing him and the available weapons within range. "Boy or girl?"

"Girl. It was her birthday." Is her birthday, he thought.

Diana paced in front of him, her feet slapping the cold tile of her bedroom floor. "Was it a simple birthday wish?"

"More complicated," he answered honestly, entirely straight forward. He was fighting every conflicting emotion as it surged to present this conundrum as factually as possible. "Bernadine."

"Bernadine," she repeated as if she should have known better. "Would you rather be with her?"

It is easier to be with her. He bit that unbidden thought down. It was difficult enough standing in front of his fierce, force to be reckoned with girlfriend and trying to explain how this went from helping out a friend to possibly stepping out on her. "I do not know."

Diana stopped pacing, crossed her arms over her chest to keep herself from exploding outward. "How am I supposed to react to this news?"

"However you are reacting," he replied quietly, a frown tugging at his guilty lips.

"Well fuck Stasi. I thought... We were going to try to make this work."

He sat quietly in front of her, letting her work through what she wanted. It would be so simple if she decided to end it, even though it didn't lessen his part in the process.

"You're not going to pick are you?" It was a sudden and quiet declarative that sounded louder than yelling somehow. She wasn't as angry as she should have been, merely disappointed.

His shoulders slumped because there was no better answer. He didn't know what he wanted. And wasn't this just the situation at Blue Ridge all over again? Stuck between two girls: one a force of nature, the other a quiet mystery. Different girls, different city, different Anastas. Same old problem.

He shifted uncomfortably. "I will understand what ever you decide."

"Oh no, de Kooning. No you don't. You're not putting this shit on me and then making me decide what to do. You make up your goddamn mind. Me or her. Take your time," she added. She wasn't about to inform him that their chronic make outs which had never escalated to sex were now entirely off the table. He could get his kisses from her if he needed them so badly.

She huffed in silence, watching the shock roll over and off his face. "Does she know about me?" she asked finally. Would it make it worse or better if she did? Diana hated having to ask.

He nodded slowly. Stas never even had to tell her; Bernadine just knew. What could he say about how hard she had tried to keep it platonic? Diana wouldn't believe him anyway.

"Tell me you're struggling with this," she pleaded. She hated that too, the desperate crack in her voice. She didn't want to like him so much that she'd try to fight for him, but there she was, clinging to a troubled boy whose accent still made her head flutter.

"I am," he replied, letting that factual wall give way to the emotional fallout beneath. How did he always have the luck to find two women, drastically different and both suited to him so well? It was different this time, beyond that Diana and Bernadine were nothing like Emilie and Sunny. At Blue Ridge those girls fulfilled different roles, the twisted physical and the desperate emotional needs.

Here Diana and Bernadine fulfilled every need, social, mental, emotional, and the limited amount of physical need that he'd caved into. They both kept him from returning to his drugs of choice in their own unique ways: Diana by distracting him, keeping him entertained when the urge struck hard and fast; Bernadine by focusing him on his magic, asking all manner of questions about the things Abernathy hadn't taught her.

That was the one difference marking them so distinctly, the one thing that stood out as to why this was easier with Bernadine. She knew about the wizarding bit and he couldn't tell Diana. Not unless he was prepared to break about a dozen wizarding statutes; with his family history and the LAW it wasn't something to risk.

Diana could see his mind turning it over. Damn her if she wasn't beginning to feel sorry for the poor bastard. Bernadine must be someone special; though clearly not as special as herself. She wasn't going to let this little speed bump bruise her ego too hard. "You're a real bastard," she said quietly, but she was moving toward him and resting her arms on his shoulders. It was resignation when she leaned into his embrace, her cheek laying on his dark hair with the sort of tired affection only couples who've been together for years experience.

That was that then. It was out and they both knew. He wasn't going to date both of them, at least that's how he tried to convince himself that he could sort this out and survive it. He planned, in that rough sort of way one plans anything in one's head, to work through his feelings piece by piece until he had a clear picture of the girls who captivated him. Eventually he'd find one of them superseding the other and she would be the one he'd beg to forgive him for this mess.

Sunday Gives Vladimir a Piece of Her Mind

2011-12-21T04:35:03Z

The news of the Hnakra crashing without any survivors caused Sunday Ros inexplicable pain. All of the people that comforted her that time would heal all wounds were wrong. Time had only caused her pain to grow and for the longest time she didn't know what to do with such grief.

Her son, Oscar, had been on board the cruise ship with her ex-husband and father of her son, Craig. Oscar's step father and her husband, Vladimir, was the one to convince her to let Craig take Oscar on the trip when Sunday originally told Craig it was out of the question. She had known for a long time that Vladimir only wanted Oscar to go because he didn't want him around; Vladimir had never been fond of her son. Sunday blamed herself for not listening to her instincts and regret consumed her day in and day out.

That is, until the day she bought a shotgun with a box of shotgun shells at the nearest Wal-Mart, headed straight home, and waited up all night until her husband got home.

With a loaded gun she sat in her husband's favorite recliner that she had pulled out of it's place in front of the television and placed it before the front door. Rocking back and forth, Sunday sat with the shotgun in her lap while she patiently waited for that front door to open and see Vladimir stumble in... and stumble he did.

"Drunk again?" she asked him after he entered the dim living room and struggled to kick his boots off.

"What the fuck does it matter to you?" he questioned. "And why in the hell are you sitting alone in the dark?"

"Isn't it obvious?" she answered his question with a question. "I was waiting up for you."

He grunted, "you ain't never done that before." He said before flicking the lightswitch on by the door lighting up the living room and saw her in the armchair. "What the fuck...?"

"I've never done it before tonight because tonight is a special occassion," she said as she began to stroke the barrel of the gun.

"What are you doing with that fucking thing?" he spat. "Give it here before you blow your head off with it," he said reaching out.

Sunday quickly picked it up, aimed it at Vladimir's chest, and racked the slide. "I assure you I am not the one you should be worried about right now."

He stopped dead in his tracks and held his hands up lazily. "What the fuck do you think you're doing bitch?"

Sunday's eyes became slits as she stared at him in disgust. "Bitch?" she repeated, "did you call me a bitch?"

"So what if I fucking did?" he retorted with a scoff.

She continued to stare at him as she fell silent with rage. For years she convinced herself to believe that divorcing Oscar's father for Vladimir was the right thing to do. And for years he came home after work from his strip club piss drunk, forced her to have sex with him, and beat her whenever she didn't do what he told her to. She put up with him and for what? A nice home? Money? "Get on your knees," she growled at him through clenched teeth.

He laughed at her, "fuck you, bitch."

Within a blink of an eye she lowered the gun to his left knee, pulled the trigger, watched his leg twist in a nauseating direction, and smiled ever-so-slightly as he fell to his knees. "Thank you," she said to him despite her words being drown out be his screams of agony.

"You fucking cunt! You stupid fucking cunt!" he screamed as he grabbed at his left thigh. "You're going to fucking regret that bitch, just you fucking wait!" He shook his head in every direction, "of my fucking fuck!"

Slowly Sunday stood from the chair and stepped closer to Vladimir. The end of the gun not far from his head as she stood before him. "Open your mouth," she said simply.

"Fuck you," he told her before spitting at her feet.

She blinked and let out a slow breath. "Open your fucking mouth or I go next door to little, old Mrs. McKinley's house where I brought your daughter over earlier tonight. While she's asleep on that cozy, cute futon in that quaint living room I will put this shotgun to her peaceful face..." she paused as she made sure he was hearing her clearly, "and I will pull the goddamn trigger."

"You... you wouldn't fucking dare," he stammered, his hands quivering at his leg that bled out.

"You're right," she said to him, "I won't... if you open... your... fucking... mouth."

His breathing was uneven as he watched her sternly stand before him. Unquiveringly waiting. He could tell she was serious. Complying to her demand Vladimir opened his mouth slightly. Wasting no time, Sunday shoved the barrel of the gun into his mouth stopping for only a moment when it crashed into his teeth. He gagged while she laughed.

Her laughing suddenly ceased and her face became empty of emotion. "You're the reason why my son is dead," she said to him, "and you're the reason why I've been so unhappy." Vladimir shook his head as he mumbled incoherently. "Don't waste your breath," she said plainly. "Who's the bitch now?" she yelled before spitting into his face, his eyes glossy.

She pulled the trigger.

Their bodies both jerked into opposite directions. His lifeless body crashed to the floor as she tripped over herself back into the armchair. The front door, behind him when he was kneeling, was sprayed with blood and bits of brain tissue. She watched as his body twitched on the floor. Still she watched as he became motionless, She watched him even when the flickering red lights poured in through the windows.

All of this played in her mind as she sat in a white room at Pleasantview Mental Health Facility. She hasn't once regretted what she had done. Not even when the police dragged her out of the house while Vladimir's daughter cried hysterically on the lawn next door. Sunday Ros was finally at peace with the loss of her son because she knew then, as she does to this day, that he had not died in vain.

subvertedunder @ 2011-12-18T19:18:00

2011-12-18T23:55:32Z

Characters: Bartleby and Cam
Setting: Charlaine, a few years ago
Rating: SFW
Content: Bartleby meets Cam

It was a strange town that her cousin, Melia, had picked for them to live in but there were so many places to explore. All of the abandoned buildings and the disregarded debris of what had once been a part of the bustling city life were interesting and exciting enough. Cam could have found whole other words in the streets of Charlaine with her imagination alone. She had been picking her way through one of the alleys with her ever bare feet when she heard ta crash from inside one of the dilapidated buildings. Her curiosity was immediately peaked and she just had to get a look inside. Climbing through one of the boarded up windows she did her best to avoid debris on the ground in front of the window and she picked her way through the building.

The floor was hard wood and cold on her small feet, for the first time Cam thought that maybe her cousin was right about shoes. Her mind was wandering again, keeping her distracted enough to not notice that someone was watching her, moving quickly from shadow to shadow. Oblivious to the specter, the little girl skipped up the stairs to the next level of the building. She was more careful on this level as there was shattered glass on the ground. She made sure to tip toe around it, pressing her hand to the dusty wall as she made her way down the hall. Hearing a ting of the glass she stopped and slowly turned around. The hall was seemingly empty but she finally sensed it. She was no longer alone. "Who's in here?" she asked stepping forward. "I aint anything to be afraid of and trust me, I aint gonna be afraid a' you either," she crossed her arms defiantly despite the sweet sounding twang in her voice.

Bartleby had been tailing her ever since she broke her way into his building. She was the first living soul he had seen up close in a few years as he mostly spent his days sulking in the shadows of the building. He read old newspapers and watched from one of the windows in the attic but he had never interacted with the few stranglers that made homes in the town. As far as he knew, they were completely unaware of his existence. After all this time one of the tiny human-creatures had decided to finally bust their way into his home. She was a feisty little creature though, different from the others. Her skin was covered in orangish red designs and though he knew very little about humans, he knew this was not typical. There was also something in the little girl that reminded him of his own daughter, so long ago murdered by the Goblin King.

At Cam's declaration, Bartleby couldn't help but snort in laughter and with his cover blown he stepped out of the shadows and smiled at the young human creature. She seemed completely un-phased by his appearance. "Now whatin the hell is you?" she asked scratching her head curiously. Then she covered her mouth. "Melia'll be washin' my filthy mouth out with soup if she ever heard me talk like that," she giggled.

Bartleby grinned. "I could very well ask the same question," he said easily. There was so much information on people that learning to speak their language was almost as easy as learning how to speak Goblin. Humans were the kind of creature that wanted others to know about them, they wanted to make their mark so it was easy to learn things about them. "You are in fact the one that broke into my home and started poking around like you owned the place."

"Well I was jus' curious an' all," she shrugged. "'Sides! Melia says no one has lived in these parts in ages! 'Cept for the witches," she shrugged again and looked slightly apologetic. "You got a nice building. What's yer name?!"

"Well Melia was wrong. I live here and I have for a while," he leaned against the wall and looked at her. "You never answered my first question human creature. What are you?"

"To hell if I'll answer your first question afore I answer yers!" she said waggling her little finger at him. "I want answers blue-ish man. You some kinda monster?" she rested her hands on her hips and looked at him as seriously as an eight year old kid could.

He shrugged. "I'm no more monster than you," he said coolly. "Just different."

"But whatcha called?" she asked exasperated. "Like... I'm a fire demon, well half a fire demon. My momma is a human just like everyone else but my daddy was a fire demon. I aint never met either one of them though I s'pose I probably met my momma at one point since I was born by her an' all. My cousin Melia took me away when I was a baby though, there was a lot of people tryin' to do bad things to me cause I was born this way. I can't help it though, I couldn't help bein' born," she explained defensively.

Bartleby watched in amusement as she explained herself. At least he had gotten her to admit what sort of creature she was before letting his own guard down. "Well I'm a Goblin of course," he said as if she should have known it already though he was positive she didn't. Goblins were not as common on this land.

"Where you come from?" she asked taking another step forward. "You got funny ears and..." she sniffed the air. "I aint never smelled somethin' the likes of you before. You smell like... a whole 'nother world," her eyes lit up. "You from one them other dimensions er worlds er somethin' like that?! Melia is always tryin'a tell me about stuff like that an' astral planes er whatever that means," she giggled.

"I'm from the Goblin Kingdom, the land of Gob," he smirked. "I know... original. Why don't run along now little girl," he said waving his hand dismissively.

"No way mister! Now that I gone and found a gobble-de-gook you can't expect me to just waltz away like I aint seen nothin?! No one'd believe me!"

"And why exactly would you do such a thing to me? I came here as a place of refuge. There was scant a soul in this forsaken town and now you're trying to pull me back into the open? It is incredibly rude and presumptuous of you. Now get out of my home before I'm forced to remove you myself," he pushed himself away from the wall and took a step in the opposite direction.

"I don't think so Mister Fancy Talk!" she said defiantly, following right after him, making sure to watch her feet. "You can't just keep yerself holed up ferever!"

He looked down at her from the corners of his eyes. "I sure can little demon," he let himself fall into the shadows, out of Cam's eyesight.

"Now that's jus' bad manners ya hear me?" she said staring at the dark wall. "Wha's yer name?" she demanded.

From behind her the answer came. "Bartleby. What is yours?"

"Cam, so you can stop callin' me funny names," she said turning, trying to catch him.

"I meant no offence Cam," this time his voice came from the end of the hallway near the staircase. Cam did her best to sniff him out and followed the trail he was leaving. Slowly she started to follow his scent down the stairs, taking one step at a time.

"Sure ya didn't," she said brightly, grinning all the while. "Sometimes people can jus' come off a little cranky is all! I think yer jus' scared."

"That's where you're wrong. I'm not afraid of your humans, your witches, and whatever other demons there are down in that town. The truth is, I do not fear them. You are wrong about me entirely. I am... I am a cranky old man. Now go on. Out you go."

She looked up to find that she had followed him to the exact spot where she had snuck into the building. She frowned and shook her head. "I aint goin' out there and forgettin' about you Bartleby. You told me yer name and ya gotta know a name is somethin' a demon don't ferget."

"I thought you were only half demon," he pointed out.

"Well yeah but I still got all the demon-y things about me stupid. Aint you ever met a half demon before me?"

"Can't say I have."

"Do ya got demons in Goblin Land?"

"The Goblin Kingdom," he corrected her.

"You knew what I meant smart ass," she leaned against the wall and crossed her arms.

"I'm sure your guardian would be pleased to hear your ever expanding vocabulary."

"I'll tell her I heard it from the likes a you," she threatened.

He snorted. "Right, a shadow Goblin from another world taught you how to curse."

"Well, it was the wolves but she aint gotta know that. Yer just tryin' to side track me! You got demons in the Goblin Kingdom er what?"

"We do," he said simply. "Are you done with your inquisition for now?"

"Nope," she grinned. "I aint leavin' til you promise you'll come out and visit the others sometime."

"And why would I do that? I hate people."

"You don't know any people!!"

"I know you," he laughed but not cruelly.

"You gonna stand there and tell me you hate a little girl?!" she asked incredulously. "Whaten the hell is that s'posed to mean?!"

He laughed even harder, loosing his concentration he slipped out of the shadows. He stood in front of her, laughing for a second before looking down at the little girl and shaking her head. "No, I don't hate you little one," he said honestly. "I thought... I thought if I ever meet a human of any kind they would just run away in fear. I am not exactly a puppy."

"Whatcha mean?"

"People will fear me for what I look like. You said so yourself. I'm a monster," he said more seriously. "And I don't know exactly what humans think of Goblins but we're not exactly known for our peace keeping ways and sparkling personalities."

"Oh," she said quietly looking at her little bare feet. "I know what tha's like Bartleby," she said looking up at him, her eyes sad.

He looked at her and even in the darkness he could see that in her young eyes there was an air of old knowledge, wisdom he didn't think she could possibly be capable of.

"My momma tried ta drown me when I was jus' a baby cause a what I looked like and what my daddy was," she reached out and took his pale blue hand and gave it a little squeeze. "Dontcho worry Mister Bartleby. I'll be yer friend and no one'll think twice about you bein' a Goblin er nothin'. Not here anyways."

Bartleby squeezed her hand back and tried not to let the emotion show on his face. "It doesn't change the fact that I'm a cranky old man and you're a nosy little child."

"Not fer one second!" she grinned.

He smiled back at her. "Then I think we have a deal."

"Sure do! C'mon Bartleby! Can I call ya Bart? I think I'm gonna call ya Bart. C'mon Bart! You gotta come meet Melia and maybe you can meet the pack! They aint gonna think twice aboutcho! They turn into wolves," she giggled. "Lainey is a cute lil wolf when she turns but the boys still look kinda mean when they turn. Not to say Lainey is a pup er somethin', she's jus' got a nicer despotism than the boys," she explained as she tried to pull Bartleby out of the window which she had climbed in.

Once in the alleyway Bartleby squinted his eyes at the sunlight and looked at Cam. "I think you mean disposition," he offered.

"Oh," she blushed, giggling. "Tha's right. My bad. C'mon Bart!" she took his hand again and started running down the alley.

Bartleby grimaced but let her pull him along. "I really wish you would stop calling me that," he said under his breath.

"Hush that fuss Bart," she said turning her head to look at him over her shoulder."Now first thing's first, we gotta introduce ya to Melia!"

The Distance Between Us

2011-12-03T09:58:20Z

Who: Anastas and Diana
When: Evening, December 3rd
Where: Her bedroom
What: Anastas and Diana have a serious chat.
Rating: SFW

Anastas liked it best when they could sit together, staring at the sky, wordless. It was chilly enough that they couldn't do it on the back porch Diana liked to linger on, stretched out side by side on chaise loungers. Instead they lay on her bed, fingers entwined, eyes pointed to her sculptured white ceiling.

His English was as broken and tragic as ever, but the import of this conversation preempted that difficulty. "I finish school," he tried. "In Adirondack mountains."

She rolled onto her side, leaning over him to cup his cheek. "You're ditching me to become a mountain man?"

He shook his head slowly. "I not around much. For study."

"You don't think the long distance arrangement will work?" She moved to straddle his hips, trapping him beneath her. He wasn't escaping this conversation.

He found that if he concentrated less and just let the words flow over him, he picked up a lot more than he did before. It started yesterday afternoon, listening to his brother on the way back to their hotel in St. George's Way.

Val was so enthusiastic about Stasi's transfer to Dresden. He couldn't seem to shut up about how well their meetings throughout the day had gone. Gradually as Stas zoned out and stopped straining to understand the English (a trick Val employed to get him to learn faster, rather than speaking in Russian), the words started to make sense to him.

Now, with Diana sitting on his lap, he seemed to gather most of what she was saying. "Distance is always issue."

"Yeah. I know all about your terrible track record. Even short distance relationships don't agree with you." She frowned at him, because she thought they were doing better than that. They hadn't even had sex yet, something which frustrated and conversely delighted Diana. He was really trying to make this work before slipping into familiar and easy patterns of behavior.

"Do you want?"

She gathered even from that vague little question what he meant. "Of course I want." They hadn't been dating long and he didn't owe her anything. But there was a spark between them, something as undeniable as the phases of the moon. Unlike that silver orb, she didn't fear that this spark might wane while they were apart.

He smiled up at her, reaching to wrap his fingers behind her neck, in her hair. He pulled her face down to his and whispered sweetly: "then we try."

When She Makes Promises She Keeps Them

2011-11-30T07:01:12Z

Who: Abernathy Ford and Shylock Wilson
When: The day after Thanksgiving reak
Where: Burnham and Pleasantview
What: Abby and Shy get it on.
Rating: NSFW

Abernathy kept true to her promise. Once they'd returned to campus it was a little too late and she was too exhausted to grab her Shylock and properly fuck him. She did however jot out an email to all of her professors about the back roads being icy and that she'd need another day to travel back to school safely.

What she was really doing was texting Shylock. Come get me, baby.

She made sure to put on her prettiest underwear, even if it was going to be lost in his couch or tossed on his floor. She wanted to impress a bit, or at least show herself off to her best advantage. She also packed a small overnight bag if they decided to go nuts until they collapsed. She made sure to put a whole bunch of condoms in her bag. All she had to do was wait.

Shy made sure to drive especially carefully to the university to go pick her up; although even as he was doing it, it occurred to him that when she wasn’t in the car was probably the best time not to drive carefully. On the other hand, she’d probably be able to tell if he’d done that, and then she’d be annoyed at him for attempting to get around her.

He made his way into the dorms as fast as possible and not because of the cold, knocking on her door softly to let her know he was there. He wasn’t entirely sure if she wanted to fool around in her room and risk an unexpected interruption or go back to his place. At any rate, he’d cleaned up-- well, kicked everything under the bed or into the closet. He didn’t care where they went, really, so long as he got to be with her.

She greeted him with a very quiet kiss. There was no use getting them both hot and bothered before they got back to his house. "Your place," she said decidedly and didn't wait for him to follow her out the door.

He trailed after her, completely entranced. He should have known she wouldn’t mess around playing modest and hard-to-get. She’d been set on this; and he should have remembered that. He chased her up to the car door and squashed her into it briefly for another kiss, a little amused that she’d chosen the passenger side today. Almost as if she was going out of her way to make sure he was in a good mood.

He tried not to smirk about it too much on the drive into Pleasantview; instead concentrating on driving just the way she’d like him to, eyes on the road and hands on the wheel and neither on her. They made small talk, not quite avoiding the subject on their minds but not directly addressing it either, which was probably for the best given how much he wanted to be at that part already.

When the car was safely stopped in his driveway, then he gave in and leaned over, curling his hand around her neck and pulling her close to kiss her.

She giggled into the kiss, giddy with excitement. She wanted to get inside and get her clothes off already, but drawing it out a little longer brought a kind of thrill with it too. She sighed happily into the next kiss and curled her hands up into his hair.

“I know how much you love the car,” he teased gently, “but maybe you can love the couch or the table or the back of the front door or just somewhere where my neighbors won’t get an eyeful.” He pulled away for a moment to open his door, but came back just as quickly to kiss her again. Then he really did get out of the car, going around to the other side to hold her door for her.

She huffed at him, even though it was entirely true. "We'll have to find all those little spots out on the back road some other time," she suggested. She pulled away reluctantly. "Your neighbors should be so lucky." Then she was pushing to get out of the car with her bag slung over her back and into his house as quickly as possible. She preferred his room just in case his dad came home and rushed up the stairs without preamble. She dropped her bag, flipped off her sneakers and plopped on his bed as sexily as Abby could manage.

He grinned at her ass-to-bed delicacy and kicked off his shoes as well, settling down beside her and tucking his hands up into her hair, holding her head still while he kissed her slowly and deeply. He’d had a good time over the weekend, of course, but it was nice to have her all to himself in a house all to themselves; where he could take his time and kiss her and touch her and not have to think about anything else or whether or not they were going to be interrupted.

Abby fought the urge to tackle him and rip his clothes off right then and there. She moaned a bit impatiently into the kiss, but they had all day to enjoy each other. She tried to remember that as she kissed him back, letting her hands trail up and down his back. Pulling on the back of his shirt, she worked her hand underneath so she could touch his skin.

The impatient little noise made him smile against her lips, but he didn’t let it rush him any. He slid his hands down her neck and shoulders, curving them down her back and pulling her just the smallest amount closer; not nearly enough to satisfy. His kisses drifted up the side of her face up to her ear, and then slowly down towards her neck. He shifted back on the mattress a little and let one of his hands drop completely down her side, coursing down over her thigh to her knee and lifting to pull it towards him.

She felt she had entirely too many clothes on and she bounced a bit into his lap. "I don't know how long I can wait for this," she whispered against his neck, layering hot, little kisses all along his jawline before she claimed his mouth. Her fingers ran along the hem of his pants in the back, dipping in to squeeze his flesh and then sliding back out to pull him closer.

He smirked against her mouth. “Longer than you think,” he teased, squeezing her ass through her jeans. “Be patient.” They had a whole day for this, and she’d just be horribly disappointed if he let her rush it. He brought his hands around to her front and started unbuttoning her shirt, placing little kisses down her neck and into the neckline of her tank top.

She tossed her head back and pressed her body up into his lips. "I'll try," she whispered, dragging her nails gently down his back. At least until she couldn't handle herself anymore and then she was determined to just jump him. She had a ways to go before she got to that point. She closed her eyes, biting her lip so he'd see it.

He nipped at her chest in response, finally freeing the last button on her top and sliding it back over her shoulders and arms. Once it was gone, his hands found her waist and he pulled her down into him, grinding his hips up against hers.

The sound elicited from this movement sent shivers down the whole length of her body. See what you do to me? but she couldn't be sure she'd said it out loud. She ground down into him gently, trying to pace herself. She pressed her hands into his chest pushing him away for a moment then changed her mind. She reached around to grasp him closer to her, kissing along his earlobe.

He laughed to himself a little, wondering if she’d always push him away and then pull him right back again. He curled one arm around her waist, and used the other to support himself as he shifted them both up towards the head of the bed, gently laying her into the mattress. He slipped his hands up under the hem of her tank top and started working it up, wriggling down to press his lips against her belly as he did.

“I’m going to kiss every part of you,” he promised.

"Hmm," came the reply, but it was more like a request than anything else. Yes, please; do that. She kept her hands on him, first near his waist as he pressed her into his mattress and then moving up his body as he moved down hers. Her fingers tangled in his hair again, massaging his scalp and very lightly pulling at his hair. "You need a haircut," she teased.

“I know. I just don’t like sharp things near my head.” He pushed her top up a little further and pressed his face into her bra. “I like soft things near my head,” he added cheekily, biting the lace and pulling her up off the mattress just enough to get the top off completely, throwing it off the side of the bed to the floor. He kept to his promise, kissing all over her chest around the edges of her bra.

She giggled as he bit her bra. "I can magic your hair short," she promised and she lowered her hands to his neck and shoulders working his muscles with unskilled fingers. She was learning quickly how he liked to be touched and what didn't quite work, but the whole thing was a process. "You'll never need a haircut again." And why exactly where they talking about this in the warm up to sex? Oh, that's right, she thought. This is my fault. She giggled again at that thought and then tickled under his armpits. If he was going to take his time she was going to have some fun.

He squeaked at the tickle, jerking his elbows to his sides to kill her route of attack and pouting. Then he pulled a face and tickled her back viciously, moving on top of her so she couldn’t escape, pulling her arm up over her head and biting underneath, just over the side of her bra strap.

She squealed in delight and frustration. He might not be able to best her in a fight, but Shylock certainly had her number in the bedroom. She couldn't admit it just yet, but sometimes she liked giving in. She arched up into him, her hands ceasing in the tickle fight and turning instead to urgent touches.

That was more like it. He released his hold on her and smoothed her hair down into the pillow, smiling down at her and pressing lazy kisses upon her lips. “You always have to start a fight,” he commented fondly as his hands slid down again, pulling her bra straps over her shoulders to make way for more kisses.

It didn't escape her notice how fondly he said it; that was why she let it go. She had a fighting spirit no matter how she tried to push it down. And she tried around Shylock, at least more than she did around anyone else. She shifted a bit to get her hands underneath her and undid her bra so he wouldn't have to bother with it later when he decided to take it off. She had her hands back on his skin as quick as she could manage, rolling up and down his sides and back, urging him closer to her all the time.

Unclasped and halfway down her arms, her bra was just in the way now, so he took that and threw it on the floor too. He took his time as he moved down her body again, grinding his hips into hers a little and then pulling back as she urged him closer, shifting down and licking and sucking gently on her flesh; nipping a little harder every now and then when he could feel her getting frustrated with him.

She did get frustrated, but it seemed to feed into her desire more than irritate her. No one else kept Abby on her toes as much as Shylock. She kissed him whenever his lips were close, ground their hips together in need. She pulled at his shirts and started to lift the whole lot over his head, tossing them in the pile of their clothes on the floor. Now that he was topless she could enjoy his flesh properly.

He sat up properly while she demolished his shirt layers to free up his arms, and while he wasn’t using them to support his weight he undid her jeans. Before she could get the idea to help him take those off though, he shifted back over her to continue making out, skin on skin.

"You're a tempting bastard," she accused hotly. Then she realized going slow was probably torturing him as much as it was her. She used her body still pinned beneath his to keep some amount of friction between them, just enough to drive him a little crazy too. She started to pull away from his kisses, turning her head so he had to work to get her lips and tongue.

“You make it so easy,” he taunted her, rolling his hips up against hers. His hands slipped from her waist down into the back of her jeans, bunching them down over her backside to reveal her cute panties, his fingers playing along the lace edges. Finding her moving away from his kisses, he squeezed her ass hard and threatened, “Am I going to have to take my hands out of your pants and hold your head still?”

"So you're the only one that gets to tease?" She turned her head just the same and kissed him with vigorous passion. She wouldn't put up too much of a fight if he was going to withhold sex. She let her hands wander a bit lower on his back into the hem of his pants. "I don't suppose you're ready to get naked yet?"

He was more than happy to have her tease if she liked; but he figured now was probably the only time he’d ever have the upper hand on her. He tried to keep a rein on the domineering, bossy side of himself simply because he knew she didn’t like to be told what to do and they’d just butt heads forever if he didn’t back off, but it was times like this he simply couldn’t help himself.

“Well, I suppose if it means so much to you...” He bit her lip and wriggled back, pulling her legs around from either side of his hips so that her legs were folded up against his chest, and started tugging her pants up and off.

She rolled her head back onto the pillow. "I meant for you to get naked," she pointed out, though it was fine and dandy with her if her pants were coming off. She giggled and wriggled her legs under his touch just as much to tease herself as him.

“I know.” He smiled and suppressed a giggle against her calf, finally disentangling her jeans from her feet and losing them too. He took a hold of her ankles and kissed up her legs. “I’m getting to it.”

It's about time, but she didn't dare say it out loud. She liked him goofy and sweet, turning to passionate. She liked the feel of his hands on her skin and how he didn't hesitate to tease and challenge. She rolled her leg down his back away from his hand and wrapped it tight around his bottom. "Yes please," she said before biting her lip in anticipation. Being naked with him was probably her favorite part of being alone with him.

“Just be glad I don’t wear as many pants as shirts,” he teased playfully, undoing his pants and taking them off without fuss for her benefit. “You think this is taking a long time.” Now just as naked as she, he fitted his hands to the outsides of her legs and ran them up the length of her body as he lay out beside her, pulling her close.

She laughed at the idea of him wearing multiple pants. She trailed her fingers up his side as if they were walking along the surface. "Tell me you're not just about ready to pop?" she asked and dropped her hand down to the outside of his boxers to rub idly.

He laughed and rolled her so that she was on top of him, and pulled her down for a kiss. “I dunno, you might get a minute or two out of me.” He fingered the lace of her panties again, pulling it away from her just enough to slip his fingers underneath.

"At least for round one," she replied dubiously. Oh yes. We're going to worship each other all day. She had no other plans and she certainly didn't want to do anything else. She shivered into his touch, a flush crawling up her neck. She sighed happily, leaning in to kiss up the crook of his neck. She met his lips and pulled back long enough to whisper against his lips. "Unless you had more important things to do today."

He shrugged, fingers creeping further under her. “Well, there was that cure for cancer I was working so hard on. And world peace. All those things I do when you’re not distracting me.” He grinned and beckoned her up onto her knees so he could pull her panties off.

"They can wait," she answered simply and got up at his silent request. She had her hands on his hips, ready to undress him as well, but then she just plunged her hand into his shorts and grasped him regardless. She smiled at him with a knowing sort of desire. How he'd been keeping his own urges at bay she wasn't sure, but she admired his ability to resist even as she wished he hadn't resisted at all.

His hips bucked up at her touch and he thrust into her hand with a moan. His own slid up the inside of her legs, firmly settling up against her as his fingers sought her wet heat. The other curled around the nape of her neck and demanded kisses of her.

She leaned into those kisses just as eagerly, happy groans accompanying the movement of his fingers. She rolled her hand up and down his length while carefully moving her hips against his hand. She hadn't figured out yet how to match their rhythms, but they were pretty close for the moment. They could probably foreplay all morning, but she didn't want to waste another minute, at least not this first time she had him. She growled into his ear. "I want you inside me."

He bit on her shoulder, brain scrambling slightly at her words combined with her breath hot on his ear and her grip on his erection. He sat up, fingers curling tightly inside her one last time before he carefully withdrew them. They needed to be apart just a few seconds so that he could remove his boxers and find a condom, and then, finally, he could oblige. He pushed gently at her leg so he could get out from underneath her.

Oh she hated that he moved away, taking the delights of his body with him. "I brought a box in my bag," she said as if he'd pick up that she meant condoms, just in case he didn't have any. Though chances were they'd both bought a giant box because this was most certainly a planned event. She reached her hands out to brush over him when he came back and grabbed his face for an urgent kiss.

She wanted this, but a momentary pang of anxiety swept over her very alert body. Sex changed things, she thought, or so she'd heard. She couldn't say from experience. Cupping his cheek she reveled in it for a moment. Abby was convinced that she'd never feel this way again. She trusted him, enough that the tiny panic slipped away just as quickly as it arrived. "I'm yours," she whispered against his lips and then pulled back to look at him.

He smiled hazily into her very urgent and to-the-point kiss, slipping his boxers down and following her further onto the bed as she pulled away. He liked the thought that she might be his, but he very much thought of himself as hers just that little bit more.

“Get comfortable?” He phrased it as a question, but it was more of a plea. He wasn’t sure how she’d react to this, or how he would either. At least if she could relax, everything would go a lot more smoothly. He brushed a hand down her leg and set to putting on the condom.

She smiled up at him as if to say she was about as comfortable as she could manage. Given her mental state she couldn't relax anymore; she was too excited, too ready for the experience. She watched as he slid the condom on. She didn't want to ask if he'd done this before and ruin it, because she knew he'd been with other girls. What a peculiar thought to have. She tilted her head to reveal her neck for kisses and shyly spread her legs; though he'd certainly seen her do that before.

She felt the urge to say something like I'm ready or take me now, but instead she giggled because she couldn't picture saying take me now all sultry and sexy like she would have wanted. Instead she bit her lip again and looked up at him lovingly. A tiny nod of her head was all the I'm ready he was going to get.

He really felt she’d never looked so beautiful as she did right then, looking up at him just like that. He climbed over her, settling himself between her legs and ran his hands up her body slowly; tenderly taking in every last inch of her. Every curve and dip of her flesh under his fingertips, and wasn’t he just the luckiest man in the world right now? He reached down to angle himself towards her, pressing up against her right at the brink of togetherness.

“Okay?” He whispered against her lips, just taking that one last chance to be sure.

She melted into that little word, pressing up to kiss him and taking one last breath before she could utter any sort of verbal response. "I want this," she whispered and then more importantly: "I want you."

Oh, so did he. He wanted her more than anything at all. It was taking every ounce of self-control he had not to be inside her already, losing himself in all the wonders of her body. He kissed her again, soft and sweet, and pushed forward slowly, entering her as gently as he could manage.

It was different than she expected. She figured it would be like his fingers, but not quite. It wasn't like that at all. She shivered and groaned against him as her body spread to grant him access. She clung to him, arms gripped tight around his back. She kissed a spot on his shoulder, just above the scar that ran across his collarbone.

It didn't hurt as much as she expected either, just a little tick of pain. An "oh," escaped her lips before it shifted into a delight filled "ah." Then there was this unfamiliar feeling spreading over. It was pleasant, more than pleasant. She didn't have a word for it. Her body was warm and tingly; he was being so gentle with her. Later she'd demand more of him, but for now this slow and easy thing was what they both needed.

He wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting either. He’d never been with a virgin before, and even if he had, he’d never been with anyone like Abernathy before and that in itself was just a whole new world. A small smile flickered across his face at the sound she made; it sounded the absolute embodiment of curiosity, and if it was that then he couldn’t be hurting her or making her too uncomfortable.

His lips found her ear and he sucked the lobe into his mouth and nibbled gently, trying not to let out a loud moan as he moved his hips. He didn’t need to deafen her as well.

She didn't offer him the same courtesy. Every time he elicited a moan from her body she let it spill out and crash against his eardrums. She decided immediately that she enjoyed this and she wanted to do it every day if at all possible. "Shy," she whispered and nipped at his neck. Finally feeling in her element again she started to move her hips. At first she moved them against his rhythm and then when she started to giggle intermittently between moans (because it just wasn't working) she stopped and looked up to him for a cue.

It took her a moment, but she found a method to maximize the way their bodies joined. When he pulled back she pulled back; when he pushed forward she slid her body toward him, engulfing him. She found that if she arched her back a bit it pressed their bodies closer together. Then she got the brilliant idea to wrap her legs around his thighs and pull him into her harder. It hurt a little bit more, but she decided she liked that too.

A helpless, delighted moan forced its way out of his throat as she clamped her legs around him. He’d been attempting to keep calm, just enjoy a smooth, easy time and not get too adventurous (not this first time anyway, assuming she’d like it enough for there to be other times) but it seemed she had other ideas.

He curled an arm around her waist as she arched and buried his face in the crook of her neck so she couldn’t see how amused and excited her actions made him. “You got the hang of this pretty fast,” he murmured against her skin, thrusting deeply.

"Mmm," she mumbled back against his skin. It's because I'm awesome, but she didn't have the vocal control to make that thought intelligible amidst all the moaning and heavy breathing. She lost herself and bit down hard on his shoulder. "Yes," she groaned and tilted her pelvis upward to take him even deeper. She wanted him, all of him; she didn't want to lose this feeling of union, the supreme connection their bodies made when thrust together.

He set to sucking a bruise in under her skin on her neck, taking his arm from around her waist to push back against the mattress and get better leverage. He almost wondered just how much she’d let him get away with before she stopped matching his every effort; but knew that she’d never stop. He smiled against the bite he’d started at that thought.

"Shy!" she cried as the bruise began to blossom. Then he was even deeper than he'd been yet, pushing her hard into the mattress. She grimaced against his shoulder because she didn't want him to see that it hurt. She didn't want him to stop, but her body wasn't used to this yet. She gripped him harder with her hands; she felt sure she'd leave bruises all over his back. Her own thrusts slowed and she used her legs only to hold him to her, not to pull him deeper.

He should have been paying more attention to her reactions, but by now he was so completely lost to desire that she’d have to properly get in his face to get his attention on her and not on her fingertips pressing into his back like tiny daggers, her eyelashes against his shoulder, her slick tightness enveloping him. It was all sensation now; details and not a whole. He moaned into her neck and dropped a kiss to her shoulder.

She hated to admit that she had limits, but together Shy and Abby were pushing close to them and she wanted to enjoy him more later. "Baby," she whispered. "Slower. Not so deep." Simple, quiet instructions moaned against his shoulder.

Simple was good. Simple he could process. He stopped moving altogether for a few moments, rearranging his arms so he could hold her. His hands slid up underneath her back and he leaned back to put a little space between her face and his shoulder to kiss her again.

He found a rhythm again, gentler this time, and fought back his hips from pressing forward so roughly.

She moaned against him happily. How did I get so lucky? She had found a boy who listened to instructions and did it while kissing her and holding her. "You're so good to me." She moved her hips again, but carefully, slowly following his rhythm so as not to lose herself in it. Her fingers loosened too and she rubbed them up and down his back. "You're almost as wet as I am," she giggled and then groaned at the wave of sensation that washed over her.

He blinked blankly at her, concentrating so hard on slower, not so deep that he’d momentarily forgotten how to engage in conversation. A little bit after that, her words registered properly and a half-smile crept over his face. “I dunno... you’re pretty wet.” He moved one of his hands between them, reaching down to stroke over her nether regions slick with sweat and her natural reactions as if to demonstrate the point. He caught her clitoris with the soft of a fingertip and rubbed gently in the hope of eking out more of those delighted noises.

"Silly..." and then his hand was between them and rubbing her while he was still moving inside and she couldn't finish a thought to save her life. Her moan seemed almost to echo in her own head. An orgasm was building, quick and hot and she was gasping beneath him, fighting not to buck hard into him while it gripped her. "Shy. Shy," she called when she could breath.

Oh, he was all too pleased with himself after that; emotionally for having served her well and physically because he could feel it in her entire body (and good god, didn’t that feel amazing for him). It wasn’t long at all before he followed her into that blissful place, his fingers digging hard into her back and a quick, awkward shifting of his weight to his elbow before he could collapse and knock the air out of her.

He looked down at her almost in amazement, just in disbelief that he was lucky enough to have her. He kissed her quickly, still struggling to catch his breath, and gasped, “god, I love you.”

The feeling of him coming inside her, the way his muscles flexed and his breath caught, his face twisting with ecstasy... Abernathy was going to give this boy sex whenever he wanted, but more often than that whenever she wanted it. She smiled up at him and pulled him down for a longer kiss.

She couldn't pin her feelings down; they were elusive and quixotic. But she recognized why she felt them and who was responsible. "I love you too."

He smiled against her mouth and wriggled back on his elbows a little, giving himself some room to shift his hips and slide out of her. He missed her warmth immediately, but reached for some tissues to clean up and dispose of the condom quickly so he could settle right beside her and pull her close.

She missed him as soon as he was gone. Well, he wasn't really gone; Abby had to remind herself that he was lying right next to her, squished as close as he could get. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tight. She needed a little break; she recognized that easily enough. "Catnap," she announced and made a false, roaring snore.

“That’s my classy Abby,” he said with a snort of laughter; though a catnap sounded like an ace idea. He set his head on the pillow beside hers, leaving a light kiss on her forehead before dozing off for a while.

Squished against him she felt sleep creeping in, but she didn't want to crash out entirely. She wanted to enjoy it a little bit longer, this weird feeling of being different than she was before. Rolling her fingers along the length of his back she felt intensely connected to him. She settled her chin on his shoulder, sighing happily and letting her thoughts roll away as they might. Eventually she fell into a light, easy sleep beside him.

Later, Shy awoke having shifted down the bed, his head off the pillow and face smushed rather firmly into Abby’s chest. Which was not at all a terrible place to wake up. He didn’t think he’d dreamed, but that didn’t bother him-- nothing he could dream about would be as nice as waking up to his beautiful girlfriend naked beside him. He smiled into her cleavage, moving his head to the side to suck one of her nipples into his mouth and gently toy with it; wondering if she’d stir or if he’d have to get a little more persistent.

Abernathy was a very heavy sleeper ordinarily, but she hadn't fallen into a very heavy sleep this morning. Shy's attention to her breast roused her and she yawned, stretching out beside him to take up a little more of the bed. She didn't both with words and pushed him off her to settle herself on his abdomen. She leaned down and presented her nipple again should he like to continue layering it with affection; she fought the urge to just up and slap him with it.

He pouted as she pushed him away, disappointed, but that was quickly replaced with a goofy grin as she then sat atop him. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, returning to his dedicated worship of her breasts. A happy hum vibrated out of his mouth. “I really like these,” he informed her as if she didn’t already know.

She jiggled them in his face. "I'd hope so. You'll be getting a whole lot more of them today." Then she giggled and squished herself down a little further to press kisses all over his head and neck. "And more of this too," she added with a little bite to his earlobe. "'Cept this time I want to be on top."

“You can be anywhere you want,” he promised, because he really didn’t mind and was more than happy to try out anything she liked. “Whenever you want,” he added, hands sliding down to squeeze her butt, a smirk forming on his face as he nuzzled into her neck and started leaving hard, messy kisses. “Wherever you want...”

She groaned happily and wriggled her hips in the most teasing fashion she could manage. She ran her hands up his sides and settled them on his shoulders. She was curious about how it had been for him that first time, but she didn't want to ask. He seemed pleased enough and certainly willing for more. "Eventually I want to try all the positions," she mused, leaning her elbows on his shoulders and cupping her hands to hold her chin. "Probably won't have time today," she said breezily.

He smiled up at her; not at all surprised to hear this coming out of his crazy little sex demon. “You can invent some of your own,” he teased. “I’ll help you test them out so you can get them perfected.”

"We might need help for some of them," she replied dubiously. Then she cackled before smashing her lips against his. She reached one hand down behind her and found that spot between his legs, just below the warmth she'd enjoyed earlier. She was definitely teasing him now, rubbing gently below and around but never on.

“You’re a dreadful tease,” he moaned, hips bucking up to her touch. He gave her a critical look for a moment, and then trailed a finger down her leg, and back up the inside of her thigh, moving very pointedly off-course the closer he came to her. Then he started up the other side. Two could play at that game.

She shivered into his touch and struggled not to just take him right then. "I think you like it," she whispered and licked up his earlobe before taking it into her mouth for a good, hard suck. She brushed her hand up higher and grasped for his dick. "Do you want me?" she asked coyly.

His breath hitched in his throat and he replied, almost pleading, “Yes, so much.” And she knew it, even if she wanted to play innocent. He tangled a hand in her hair and kissed her fervently, licking over her lips and tongue. He dangled his other hand off the side of the bed, reaching blindly for the condoms.

She reached down with him and located the box, pushing it in his direction. She sat up pertly as if she could push aside her desire long enough for curiosity. "Show me how you put it on." She'd been too anxious to watch properly before and she wanted to know.

“Okay. Well,” he took a little packet from the box after she’d nudged it into his hand and tore it open, showing her the rolled-up condom and taking her hand. “Find right way up.” He closed her fingers over the end of it on the outside. “Then put it on the top and roll the rest down.” He set a hand on her hip and nudged her up, sitting up a little to kiss her. She’d have to move down if she wanted him to show her; she wouldn’t be able to see if he did it behind her.

"It's squishy," she said with a little squirm on his lap. Then she hopped off him at his urging to watch and maybe assist if he let her.

He laughed. “Yeah, it’s very squishy. But that’s a good thing.” He guided her hand to set the condom on the tip of his cock and started to unroll it, demonstrating for her how easy it was. “See?”

She giggled a bit and put her hand over his to help him unroll it all the way down. "Just like that," she said and without wasting any time she was straddling his lap again and pushing his hands out of the way. "Next time I'll try putting it on with my mouth." She looked down at him to see if he'd be at all interested in that before she took the plunge.

“Oh, well, that takes a lot of practise to get right,” he teased. “You could be trying for a while.” The enormous grin on his face at this suggestion was a pretty clear indicator that yes, he was quite interested in that. He put his hands on her thighs and squeezed gently, trying not to arch up underneath her too obviously.

Trying to line up her body just right she started to ease down, but she missed and shot a little to the right. "Might need your help," she said with a little bite to her lips.

He reached down with one hand to hold his penis still, using the other to guide her down onto him. It was just another thing that needed practise, and he was pretty sure that neither of them minded that. Once nestled snugly against her, he moved his hand up to her waist so that she could be completely in charge.

She liked to hold him where he was, pinned beneath her and deep within. She wriggled without lifting and leaned down to kiss all over his stubbly chin. "I like this," she whispered. She adjusted up a little bit and then down again very gently. It took her a few strokes to find a good way to move, every now and again she'd go a little too far up and have to fumble for his cock and slide it back inside. "Thank you for being patient," she said a little shyly. She was a little worried about pleasing him, but then she figured that was perfectly okay. All couples worried about pleasing each other, about being enough for one another.

He squeezed her waist encouragingly. “I’m not; you’re doing great.” He thrust his hips up a little as he said so. He didn’t know that she was concerned about her abilities and would never have guessed that’s what was on her mind. What was on his mind was that he had an amazing view of her entire body as she moved; her face set in concentration, her breasts swaying, her thighs flexing as she lifted herself and the altogether satisfying sight of himself disappearing into her.

She liked this position, but she missed having his body so close to hers. She leaned forward and braced herself on her arms, concentrating all the movement to her bottom half. She peppered him with kisses and hot whispers, breathy sighs of happiness and moans when they hit just the right spot together. She didn't regret waiting for Shylock, she only wished she had found him sooner.

Oh, but he liked this too. This way he could kiss her and feel her breath rush across his skin, tickling every tiny hair it met on the way and sending shivers through him. His hands slid around to her behind and he gripped her tight. “Grind on me when you come down,” he suggested gently.

"Like this?" she asked as she did it and then twitched delightedly at the sensation. "Oh yes. I like that very much." At each eager thrust she ground just a bit, trying one direction and then the other, deciding she liked to vary it. She also liked the control she had from the top. Every now and again she'd pull all the way to the top and if he tried to thrust back inside she'd pull up higher, effectively teasing him with her entire pelvis. Then she'd giggle, grin at him and thrust herself down so hard it actually hurt (but wasn't that part of the thrill; she was starting to wonder if maybe she wasn't a bit of a sexual deviant).

He groaned in a combination of frustration and delight at her teasing and the reward for enduring it. He could tell when she was doing it, lifting herself high with that smug, knowing look on her face; but he just couldn’t stop himself. His fingers would tighten on her skin and he’d try so hard to pull her back down onto him even though he knew it would just result in her pulling further away. It wasn’t that he didn’t learn. He just needed to try.

His lips found her earlobe and he nibbled gently at the point between hear ear and neck. “I think you were made for this,” he gasped against her skin.

"Or maybe just you," she replied breathlessly and then let a raucous moan loose near his ear. She was setting a faster rhythm now, though her muscles ached with this new movement and her body was still straining to adjust. She lusted for him every time she pulled away and tried not to wonder if it would always be like this. Her brain stopped functioning on an intelligible level. Anytime she tried to say something it turned out like gibberish decoded by moans. She could only think of him, of the feeling of him deep inside and the void when he pulled away.

He moved with her, this faster pace she’d set was heightening his senses and he could feel that he was getting close. He brought his hands up to fondle her breasts, kisses turning rough.

She liked that too, the crazed desperation with which he kissed her, the way his hands moved over her flesh like fire in water. Scalding and soothing all at once. She managed to moan his name finally, thankful that it was only one perfect syllable. Her fingernails dug at his arms, a little harder than she thought she was capable of doing. She clenched her legs tight and bucked on him with even more need. She was building toward release, though not as quickly as he was. She wanted just a few more minutes, fighting not to bounce too hard, desperate to keep this feeling going.

“Abby,” he moaned, slipping his hands down the length of her body to grip tight on her hips, pulling her down onto him even as he thrust back. He wasn’t going to last if she kept squeezing him like that. He bit down on her bottom lip. “You can’t... I’m gonna come.”

He couldn’t even think of what it was he was trying to tell her before just stating the obvious. You can’t make me feel this good? Stop doing all these things that I’m enjoying? No, please keep doing them, forever. He arched up into her, his thoughts becoming hazy.

A cry slipped free and she arched her back to sit up on him. "Think of baseball," she urged, but then she was laughing and moaning, her whole body seizing up around him. Then she figured fuck it, if he was going to come she shouldn't prolong it. "I want to feel you come inside me," she breathed into his ear and then sucked on the lobe with sweet intensity. "Come for me, baby.'

Her voice, her lips, her words; it was all too much. He clutched her close, hips bucking against her thighs uncontrollably as he climaxed. A satisfied groan wrenched itself from his throat and his fingers finally slipped from their iron hold on her hips as his whole body just gave in.

She rode him until there was nothing left to ride. She hadn't climaxed yet herself and she didn't know if it would be rude to reach down there and finish herself off. She giggled into his ear at that thought, a little delirious with all the sexual energy. "Touch me," she pleaded and rolled her hips, grinding just a bit. "Just a little more," she added with a little nip to his neck.

He curled an arm around her waist and rolled them both so that they lay side by side, pushing a knee between her legs and letting his hands explore her body on the way down. His fingers sought her pussy eagerly, slipping inside with ease and curling to find those places he knew she liked to be touched.

It wasn't quite the same, but her need for him didn't care. It was raw and more powerful than anything she had yet experience. She rocked into his fingers, slammed her lips into his for a hungry kiss and then pushed his head down toward her breasts as encouragement. The tiny, scary dominatrix had been let out of her cage.

Shy found himself surprisingly aroused by the demanding behavior; he knew there was a forceful little mistress hiding inside of her, but to actually experience it was something else entirely. He pushed his fingers deeper inside, twisting and scissoring against her muscles, desperate to please her. An excited gasp was quickly muffled against her breast.

She moaned against him, urging his fingers to go deeper and harder. She twisted on him, hot and unable to stop herself from gripping his hair tight and pulling. "I need you," she practically whimpered as she worked her hips back and forth.

That was a lovely new sensation; her fingers pulling through his hair. He was starting to wonder if maybe he wasn’t just a little too enamored of her dominating tendencies, because he was certainly reacting. Before he could think too hard about it, he wrenched himself away to shift down against her, bringing his mouth to join his hands in pleasuring her. He needed to feel her come, and would do everything he could to make it happen.

She arched up, head rolling back so that she couldn't see him. Her eyes were closed anyway, intent on feeling him and depriving her other senses, at least dampening them. She tried not to squeeze his precious head between her thighs, but she couldn't quite master stilling her hips. It didn't take long with the efforts of his tongue and fingers combined and she was shouting his name so loudly she almost feared the neighbors would come looking for him. She clenched her fists tightly in the sheets; if they'd been on his skin he'd certainly have bruises.

Shivering and spent for the moment she smiled hazily into his pillows. Unclenching her fists she reached down to ruffle his hair affectionately. "You are everything I've ever wanted," she said without an ounce of guile.

He smiled into the kisses he was layering up her stomach and shifted to spread out on the bed and rest his head on her. He tangled his fingers with hers and brought her hand up to his mouth for a gentlemanly kiss that was entirely out of place given their state of undress and recent activities. “I hope I stay that way.” He was unnervingly sure that she would remain his perfect woman.

Things Couldn't Get Much Weirder

2011-11-29T03:40:02Z

Who: Abernathy and Bernadine Ford
When: Thanksgiving Break!
Where: Castle Ford, Luzerne NY
What: Bernadine breaks down and tells Abernathy about her post halloween sex-capades.
Rating: NSFWish

Bernadine debated whether or not to tell her sister about the night of debauchery after Halloweenfest and the secret party.

She realized that she'd have to tell her at some point. The longer she let it linger the sooner her sister might run into either Cinna or Thorn and then... Well, they might act a little too comfortable around Abernathy and Abby would have no idea why.

At one point during their bizarre Thanksgiving weekend she managed to pull her sister aside and lock the door behind her. She sat down on her bed and announced that she had something important to share.

Abernathy sat across from her and looked woefully uninterested. How important could it be if it waited until Thanksgiving break?

Bernadine ripped the bandaid off with little prose. "I slept with someone you know."

Abernathy cast her sister a terribly annoyed look. "You would wait to cash in your V card while you were wearing my face."

Bernadine didn't bother to point out that it was her own face as well; she understood what Abby meant. "It's worse than that."

"How can it be worse than that?"

"The someones involved."

"Someones?" Abby leaned in to her sister just to make sure she'd heard correctly. "You slept with more than one person I know?"

"Just two of them. But it was... On the same night. At the same time."

Abby's eyes flew open and for a solid minute she was perfectly still. "You had a threesome. And the people involved, who you haven't told me yet, so I'm assuming I'm going to have a horrible reaction, think that you're me."

Bernadine nodded slowly because Abby's recap was on par.

"Spill it then."

"You're probably going to kill me."

"Spill."

"Hawthorne."

"Jesus fuck Bernadine. Really? Hawthorne Fucking Nikitin thinks he took my virginity?"

"And Cinna."

At this point Abernathy stood up and walked to the door, banging her head on the wood in a futile attempt to knock out the senseless information her sister just relayed. "Why the fuck would you even do such a thing?"

Bernadine tried not to escalate the situation. "It probably had something to do with the jungle juice."

"You're going to have to tell them it wasn't me."

"You and I both know very well we can't tell Cinna until this is over."

"Then it's fucking over Bernadine. Of all the people. I can't believe you'd be capable of something so unbelievably fucking stupid."

"That's really nice coming from you," Bernadine replied quietly. She huffed out a sigh. Being Abby 7 days a week, most of the day, it was starting to wear on her. She was losing track of herself in the mix. She was taking on too many of the qualities she didn't admire in her sister.

Abernathy deflated because she hated to think that Bernadine didn't approve of her. Burnham had been very good for her so far. She'd changed, even if she couldn't articulate how. "Did you have fun at least?" she asked with a sigh, turning back and sitting down again.

Bernadine exhaled and her shoulders relaxed, falling back into place. "It was nice. Weird. Really kinky."

Abernathy raised a hand. "I don't... I don't want to know any more. I'll just have to not run into either of them until after this thing."

Her sister reached across and squeezed her knee. "I'm sorry I did something so stupid with your reputation."

"I didn't give you a very good reputation to start with," Abby said dismissively. "Are you gonna... do it again, you think?"

Bernadine shrugged because she honestly didn't know. "They seem pretty determined to keep me on as a third wheel."

"Cinnamyn. Really?"

"Right?"

"Would not have pegged her for a lesbian, even with all of the sexual overtones."

"She was your prom date."

"And now she's stolen my sister's virginity."

Bernadine laughed at how very absurd the whole thing actually was. She was surprised that Abby hadn't hauled up and punched her. "I don't think she's really a lesbian. I think she wanted to make Thorn happy."

Abby made the tiniest gagging sound. "Those two were always stupid for each other, but they never quite got there. Apparently they needed a Berny in their CinnaThorn sandwich. Wait... do you want to be the third wheel?"

That was a pretty important distinction and one Bernadine hadn't quite sorted out yet. "I've been pretty good at avoiding the issue so far."

"You might want to think about that before they talk you into it again. Cinna has her own brand of persuasion." Abernathy dubbed it 'I want what I want and I'm going to get it now.' She was surprising herself with how casually they were talking about this. It might have had something to do with all of the crazy reveals of the weekend and her own big decision to share her virginity with Shylock. "Just... Be safe. Please."

"I was and if I decide that I want to do something that incredibly stupid again I will be."

"I just don't want you to get hurt."

Bernadine cracked a little smile. She didn't have too many emotions tangled up in the peculiar triangle of herself, Thorn and Cinna. They were all friends, but she didn't have the lengthy history Abby had with them. She was divorced from all that past and able to engage in their crazy lust without worrying over the possible emotional damage. "I'll be okay," she promised.

"You better be," Abernathy replied and crossed to Bernadine's bed to give her sister a hug. It was part forgiveness and all love.

"Now come on, Adelaide's going to get all paranoid that I've been talking smack about her to you."

"As if I need any ammunition on her," Abby replied with a big, horrible grin.

A Little Bit Later on a Very Awkward Thanksgiving Morning

2011-11-27T23:23:01Z

Who: Abernathy Ford and Shylock Wilson, Bill and Tim Ford, Adelaide Legaux
When: Thanksgiving Break!
Where: Castle Ford, Luzerne NY
What: The house starts to wake after Abby's bombshell.
Rating: NSFW

Continued from here.

She liked the picture, even if it didn't quite work. She followed him out his side of the car into the house. There was already a pot on when they entered the house. Bill was standing in the kitchen with a mug in hand. He'd gotten up to put the turkey in the oven. He quirked an eyebrow at his daughter who didn't have her coat on and looked as though she'd been crying.

Abby shrugged at Bill. "Cat's out of the bag."

Bill turned to the counter, pulled a bottle out of the bottom cabinet and poured a liberal dose into a mug of coffee. He passed it to Shylock and raised his own in a toast. "It's a whole new world," he said aptly.

“I feel like I fell down the rabbit hole, a little,” he confessed, taking the mug gratefully. It was warm on his cold hands and a good, sobering smell. Not that he felt any kind of drowsy after that... strange little excursion in the car, but it was a good reminder that yes, he was awake, and no, none of this was a dream. “Are you all witches?”

"We call the menfolk wizards, but Abby thinks that's a double standard," Bill supplied. "I'm a wizard. She's a witch. We're not entirely sure about Bernadine."

"She's a witch but she can only do one kind of magic," Abby said. "My brother's a squib. Means he can't do magic, even though he came from a magic family. And our friend Addy is a witch. We went to school together." She took a seat on the opposite side of the kitchen counter on one of the stools while her father poured her a cup of coffee.

"Wizards like to call your type of folk muggles," he said as he passed the cup to his daughter. "Just means you can't do magic and you probably don't know about it. I was never fond of the name myself. We're all just people, right?"

Shy raised an eyebrow at the way Abby said friend, but was too distracted by the next thing Bill said to focus on why. “Wait. I know this.” He closed his eyes and sighed, hoping he wasn’t the butt of a very elaborate practical joke. “And then Harry defeated Voldemort and we all lived happily ever after.”

Bill's face spread into a goofy smile. "You know how some stories are actually history, just written like fantasy?"

Abby rolled her eyes. "Yeah. The boy who lived still lives. Turned into a breeder I heard. Did nothing useful outside of living."

Bill shook his head at Abernathy, even though he agreed with her completely. "Unauthorized biography. It was such a hit with the muggles, the magic authorities let it slide."

“Oh, my brain.” He took a long drink of his coffee. “Can I just... just do me a favor, and even if it’s a lie, please, tell me Twilight isn’t real too.”

Abernathy had just taken a sip and it shot straight out of her mouth onto the counter. Bill grabbed a cloth and tossed it to her.

"What's this Twilight nonsense?" he asked.

Abby shook her head and giggled while she mopped up the mess in front of her. "If it's true I'll commit seppuku right here and now."

“It’s... wrong.” Shy told Bill. “Sparkly vampire falls for boring whiny loser, stalks her and threatens to kill her-- which she finds really hot-- knocks her up, eats the baby out of her, and then the friendly neighborhood werewolf comes along and says ‘I want to have sex with that’.” He could see Abby staring at him. “I didn’t read it! That’s what wikipedia says!”

"I can't believe you made it all the way through the wiki without burning the internet."

Bill nodded slowly to that, more than a little bit horrified. "Why would anyone read that?"

"Because they're lame," Abernathy replied and took a healthy sip of her coffee. "But yeah Shy, if you've read the HP books you pretty much know how magic works already."

He thought about it for a moment. That... wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t like the next time he was on an elevator he’d have to wonder if it was magic keeping him from a swift plunge to a grisly death, just the same old machinery he’d always thought it was. The world was still, basically, how he knew it. There were just some very, very odd things going on in the background.

“Okay, I... I think I can deal with that. Mostly.” It wasn’t quite so major as he’d originally thought, but the idea would still take some getting used to.

Abernathy smiled at him over the counter.

It didn't escape Bill's notice. He remembered what it was like to look at someone that way. Grateful, relieved, and the first sparks of young love. He cleared his throat and stepped forward. "I think I have some work to do in the garage. Just keep an eye on the bird," he said to Abernathy before exiting the house.

She moved around the counter, leaving her coffee where it was. She wrapped her arms around Shy and squeezed him easily. It felt so natural just to slide into his arms. She kissed him again, this time for a final sort of reassurance and sighed into his neck. "You going to keep me?"

He sighed exaggeratedly. “I guess.” He curled his arms around her quickly after that, hoping to entangle her with a minimum of punching room. “You’re a handful,” he reminded her affectionately.

"You like the trouble," she replied with a little poke to his side, but she wasn't going to push it anymore today. She was just happy that her biggest secret was out and he was still happy to have her.

“Yeah, I do. You like being trouble too.” He buried his face in her neck and kissed her up and down until they were joined by a shuffling zombie who had wandered into the kitchen.

This early in the day, Adelaide didn’t even register anything beyond the identities of the other occupants of the kitchen. They could have been playing naked ping pong over the counter and she’d have ignored them in favor of the coffee pot.

She stiffened when Adelaide entered the room, but she'd ignored them entirely. She gave Shy one last serious squeeze before pulling away from him slowly. "Morning," she said quietly and returned to the counter where her own coffee cup was. It was going to be a long day; it was already a long day.

“Mnnnghcoffeemorning.” Addy blinked at the both of them and made a beeline for the coffee. “What’s time?”

Shy shrugged at her, not sure she’d even recognize a time if given one. “Early.” The sun had barely been out when he’d woken Abernathy, and it wasn’t a whole lot out still. The joys of Fall.

Abby looked at the wall clock. "Seven," she answered. Christ, when did Shy wake me up?

He passed Abernathy an apologetic glance. He didn’t realize he’d woken her so early; and he must have if it was only seven in the morning just now.

Seven? Ugh! Addy cradled the cup of coffee she’d just fixed herself and stared blankly at the clock, not even looking for the time. “Are you going back to sleep or can I coffee on the couch?”

"You can coffee on the couch," Abernathy offered. She was too anxious to sleep, even though she felt relieved that Shylock had reached a semi-comfortable plateau. She was still a little shell shocked by the ordeal.

“Cool.” She disappeared to sit on the couch without a further word, leaving Shy and Abernathy alone in the kitchen again.

Shy watched her go with a raised eyebrow and turned to Abby. “Wow. And you say you’re not a morning person.”

Abby laughed. "Never had someone worse to compare myself to." She finished off her coffee and leaned her elbows on the counter. She reached for him with her hands, gesturing for him to come closer. "You think you can make it through the rest of the holiday?"

“You mean with my pants on or just in general?” He teased, though curious as to which she did mean. He leaned forward and tucked his hands into hers. “Yeah, I think I’m good. Are you?”

"Well yeah," she said squeezing his fingers. "If you can do that I will reward you by skipping all of Monday's classes to stay in bed with you." Then she smirked because the issue was very rarely him; it was her libido that was out of control. Then she nodded much more soberly. "Still a little freaked out, but I'm good. Or I'm getting closer to good."

He squeezed her fingers back. “I respond well to positive reinforcement,” he said cheekily, matching her smirk. She would have him well trained in no time. “You’ll be good once you get some food in you. Is there any leftover pizza?”

"Pizza for breakfast." She laughed, because this was exactly the sort of thing she'd eat on campus, but very rarely at home. "I bet you there is." She set down her coffee mug and moved over to the fridge to look. She ran her hand over his bottom as she walked past him and found the pizza in the box shoved at the top. She plopped the box on the counter and grabbed a piece, offering it for Shy to bite.

He sidled up beside her, curling an arm around her waist and attacking the proffered food. “Breakfast of champions,” he declared after swallowing. “That and smashed up easter eggs, and last night’s trick or treating haul.”

"Wait 'til tomorrow. We'll have Thanksgiving leftovers. Breakfast, lunch, and second dinner of champions." She took her own bite of the slice and leaned against him happily. So even though it had been tumultuous and awkward (and not that far into it either), this vacation hadn't been a total loss. "I'll hand feed you mashed potatoes like you're a pharaoh."

“Did not know pharaohs were into mashed potatoes. It’s just one big learning experience, time with you.” He rested his chin on her head and sighed contentedly. He was feeling pretty comfortable again, after the upheaval of the morning.

She laughed at the absurdity of the very idea. "I dunno what they liked to eat, but I can feed you like one." She leaned back into him feeling lucky and well loved. She smiled whether or not he could see it, because he just made her that happy.

“No, no, I’m liking the idea. All up in their fancy hats, surrounded by concubines with those palm-leaf fans, little god-cats running about, and all they’re thinking is ‘fuck me, I want some mashed potato’.” He giggled at his own ridiculousness, and stole the last of the slice they’d been sharing.

"Baby, I adore you, but I'm not surrounding you with concubines." She giggled and turned to press her front side to his, arms sliding around his back. "I can promise though, whenever you want mashed potatoes I'll cook up a homemade batch just for you."

“Aw, come on. Like two or three at the most,” he teased, draping his arms around her in return. He was attempting to rile her, of course, she alone was already more than he could ever need or want. “Can I have a fancy hat?”

"You really want to start round two in the kitchen just to prove that I am ample enough woman for you?" She scrolled her hands down his back and got a firm grasp of his buttocks to squeeze teasingly. She bit idly at his earlobe. "Cause I can go all day." As to the hat, she wasn't going to answer, only smirked at him smartly.

He grinned back, sliding his hands to her waist to lift her up and set her on the counter next to the pizza box. “I bet you can.” He was also quite certain that she’d go out of her way to demonstrate it, at some point. He also had no complaints about that, he decided, leaning up against the counter between her knees.

She leaned forward to kiss him, confident that they had the kitchen to themselves at least for a few more minutes. "Start cataloguing your fantasies, honey. 'Cause I'm willing to enact them all out when we get back to school." She sealed that promise with a suggestive kiss.

“Fine, then I’m gonna start thinking up some really weird ones.” That threat caused him to draw a complete blank, but he could probably think of something to give her pause, given the time. He broke from his confused thinking face to offer her another smile and start layering kisses down her neck and across her shoulder.

"Only if you intend to actually act on them." She reached down and squeezed his butt for good measure. "And maybe try to avoid the ones that have props. We 'd have to go out and buy stuff and that would just be a headache and a hassle." She giggled against his chest.

“And way, way embarrassing.” He shook his head, wondering (and not for the first time) what on earth he’d gotten himself into. He set his face on the top of her head and breathed in her hair. “You always smell good.”

"It's how I keep you coming back," she said fondly. "And maybe the promise of phenomenal sex."

"Did not need to hear that," Tim said from the door. He wasn't as bleary eyed as the rest of them and instead of coming into the kitchen for coffee he sought out juice. "Morning perverts."

Shy winced into Abby’s hair. “... morning.” Timing, always just that perfect timing. She was going to give him a heart attack one day, he was sure of it. He stepped back from the counter a little so that the kitchen was a little more family-friendly, sneaking in a quick, subtle squeeze on the way.

"Morning boner," Abby retorted. She would have been embarrassed yesterday, but today was a new day altogether. "Got any good positions you can recommend?"

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Tim said, wincing more than Shylock did. "Just. No." He took his juice and retreated to the living room where he found Adelaide. "There are things I wish I could unsee and unhear. Most of them are happening in the kitchen right now."

Adelaide raised an eyebrow at him. Her coffee had started to kick in and she was a great deal more awake than before. “So I guess there go my ideas about having breakfast. Do I even want to-- no. No, I don’t think I’m that curious.” She smiled and sat up properly, making room for him on the couch. “Sleep well, at least?”

"I did," he said with a little shrug. He plunked down beside her and leaned back. "You're not that curious," he added. "How'd you sleep?"

“Not awfully. Woke up a couple times, but went back down pretty fast.” She was a very light sleeper. “Woke up earlier than I meant to, though. Might have interrupted the start of your kitchen nightmare, but hadn’t had coffee yet so I don’t remember.” She grinned over at him. “Probably a good thing though, right?”

"You'd be scarred for life." He laughed though. In a round about way it was good to see Abernathy branching out and having a romantic interest. She was out there, living life, doing new things in Burnham. He wasn't sure she'd manage that at Dresden. "Regretting you came, or what?"

She reached over and ruffled his hair playfully. “Nope. I’ll take any chance I get to see you. Besides. If I didn’t, I’d be home alone doing something real Thanksgiving-y, like eating pizza in bed and watching daytime TV.”

"Your brother doesn't do turkey?" Tim asked, almost shocked. Their dad made sure they had a big holiday dinner every year. It was one of the ways that helped reinforce their family bonds. That she wouldn't pass up a chance to see him didn't escape his notice, but he didn't want to comment on it while they were both sitting on the couch in their pajamas and any one of his family could barge in at any moment.

“Oh, he does a great turkey. Great everything and way too much of it. He and Jesus are hitting up the Suarez clan this year though, so the turkey would have to be made by me. And... yeah. Not sure I could handle that just yet.” Simone would be so upset if they came home from California to find the kitchen a burnt-out shell. She was getting better at cooking, but not so much that she could take on a Thanksgiving dinner all by herself. “And cooking for one is ridiculous.”

He leaned over just slightly and rubbed his shoulder on hers. "Glad you decided to come."

“Well that’s good,” she said, lips quirking at the sides. “It’d be awkward if you were wishing I hadn’t. Between avoiding me and the lovebirds, you’d have quite an irritating break on your hands.”

"It's a nice break so far," he said dubiously. Then he leaned in to steal a very quick kiss. "I'm enjoying it. Debating about going to Grandpa Malone's house. I think dad's going to tell Abby to keep lover boy entertained at home." He rolled his eyes.

Adelaide curled her lip in a mixture of horror and disgust. “Oh... jesus. Can I come with you? I don’t think I want to be here for the entertainment.” She had originally been thinking that she and Abernathy weren’t good enough friends to have knowing that sort of thing between them, but upon reflection decided that nobody was a good enough friend to be in the area while they were... well. That. She shuddered.

"I don't think that's what he meant," Tim said quickly and tried to suppress his own shudder. "It'd be cool if you wanted to come and meet my cousin, my aunt and uncles though." He shrugged. Either way, he'd stay or go depending on what Addy wanted to do.

She glanced back towards the kitchen doubtfully. If they were doing things that needed to be unseen and unheard in the kitchen while everyone was home, what could be expected of them if half the house was out? The conclusion made disgusting, logical sense. “Would it be weird?”

"Nah," he replied. "I don't know if you've noticed, but we're kind of informal people. I think Grandpa Malone will adore you." Not to mention that Aunt Bethany would probably squish her just for being a girl who spent time with her Timmy. "It'd be cool if you wanted to go. Then we could give those crazy kids some alone time."

She laughed lightly. “I think that is a massive overstatement on your part; but, if you think maybe they wouldn’t mind me tagging along, sure. After all, you’ve met my entire family,” she added dryly. All two of them.

He grinned. "I like your family," he answered. They were a little... much, but they took very good care of Adelaide. That was more than enough to get Tim to approve of them. "The Fords are a special crowd," he smirked with an upraised eyebrow. "Eventually you'll meet my Aunt Veruca; she's from mom's side." He shrugged because Aunt Veruca was something else entirely. "She's uh... Well... She's something of a southern belle. I don't know if you'd like her or not."

“They like you!” She blushed slightly. She was kind of reluctant to invite him over if only because Si was not the most subtle person, and putting him in the same room as a boy she was interested in for an extended period of time was just a recipe for disaster. “I’m not sure I’ve ever met a proper southern belle,” she thought aloud. Her mom had been more of a drunk than a lady, and her grandmother was more dragon than belle.

"She's a trip. Still has house elves." He shook his head slightly if only because the very idea boggled him. It just wasn't something the Ford kids had ever even thought about; they'd always grown up without wild displays of magic around. House elves were like living on another planet.

“Ooh, house elves are creepy little things. My grandmother had one, and sometimes it would turn up at our house. It never talked, and had these big huge scary eyes, and I’m pretty sure it hated me.” She couldn’t really blame it, after all, she’d probably hate everything and everyone too if she had to be her grandmother’s slave. She wrinkled her nose at the very thought.

"Glad we grew up without to be honest. They always creeped me the fuck out." The one time he'd had a run in with one of Aunt Veruca's elves... Well, it stuck with him. He was glad to be a squib after that. "It's one of those things about magic that I'll never understand."

She nodded in firm agreement. “I think they’re a lot more common in Europe than here. They just freak us out too much. Like driving on the left, and naked people at the beach.”

He laughed. "We can go to Canada for naked beaches. Not a family trip though. Talk about awkward." He laughed imagining the reactions of Jesus and Simone on a nude beach. "Wouldn't mind seeing you in your bathing suit though," he said with a sweetly suggestive smile.

“Naked beaches are just awkward, period! So many naked people! Naked strangers. Naked people you know.” She squeaked. She’d happily remain a prudish, overconservative American in that regard. Then he was giving her a cheeky smile, somehow not sleazy at all, and she blushed. “You are such a boy.”

"Would you prefer it if I wasn't?" he teased lightly. "I don't know how we managed to hang out so much this summer and I never once saw your bathing suit."

Oh, she very much liked him as a boy. If he wasn’t, she’d have to seriously reconsider that whole ‘not a lesbian’ thing. “Its very strange,” she agreed. “I usually spend the entire summer in my swimmers. You must have been very bad in a past life.”

He shook his head. "I'm just unlucky," he replied. The running joke in the Ford house was that Bernadine had stolen all the luck in the family. Tim was fine enough parting with it if it helped her. "Maybe next summer I can talk you into it."

“Maybe sooner if the weather’s nice,” she teased back. “I’m sure I’ll fall easy victim to your persuasive charms.” She reached over to lightly stroke her fingers down the side of his neck.

He blushed despite himself. "I'm not that charming," he said humbly. He wished they could have this morning to themselves, just the two of them. There was no guarantee that Abernathy wouldn't come bounding out of the kitchen at any moment, or that Bernadine would rouse herself from bed. "Maybe I can talk dad into taking two cars to Grandpa Malone's; you know, so I can have a little time with you all to myself."

She smiled shyly at that. “I like spending time with you, all to yourself. Does that make me an attention whore?” She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them so that she wouldn’t be tempted to put her hands all over him again.

"I don't think so," he replied. He smiled happily. "I'm quite flattered," he added, but it was more than that. Everything he wanted to say needed some alone time to manage; hopefully he'd get that later.

“Maybe a little bit of an attention whore,” she said with a grin, holding her fingers the teeniest distance apart. She couldn’t lie to herself on that front; she really liked being his point of focus when it was just the two of them. It made her feel important.

You can be my attention whore, then. But he couldn't say it out loud. He just continued smiling at her. "Do you want some more coffee?" he asked after an awkward moment of fumbling for something to say.

She looked into her mug at the last little dregs of coffee, now cold. “I think I’m good and awake now. Besides,” she added with a wry smirk. “Wouldn’t want to send you right back into the nightmare.” She leaned over and set the mug on the coffee table, a little bit amused. “If you feel like venturing in for food though, I’ll come with. You might need backup.”

"I might need therapy," he replied smartly, but he offered her hand to help her off the couch and ventured into the kitchen where the turkey was starting to smell phenomenal and Abernathy was perched on the counter.

Addy followed close behind, mostly to use him as a human shield if there was anything going on in the kitchen that she didn’t want to know about. Finding it clear of debauchery, she breathed a sigh of relief and vacated her little blindspot behind Tim to rinse her coffee mug in the sink.

“You guys are awfully perky for people who’ve been up since the crack of dawn,” she commented, instantly regretting having said that once she reflected on the possible reasons one could be in an exceptionally good mood so early in the day.

It was rather amusing to Abby, if only because she ordinarily wasn't a morning person. "We're planning on a mass nap after dinner," she answered tartly. "Maybe an early bedtime." Which god help her, she tried to say without any sort of suggestion tossed in Shylock's direction.

Tim shrugged. "So long as we don't have to dog-pile for the nap; I'd say that's a pretty good idea."

“Yeah, a dogpile nap is never a good idea,” Shy agreed. “You never know exactly who or what part of who is on you.” That, and he tended to subconsciously spoon the nearest person, and if that person turned out not to be Abby then ooh, awkward. “Though, it has been an awfully long time since I woke up with a fist in my face...”

Addy smirked. “Take a nap with her, you’ll wake up with two.”

"Don't fill his head with the idea that we ever took a nap together. He'll be asking for pictures," Abby retorted with a sly glance towards her love. "Or maybe for reenactments."

Tim shook his head to clear it of the horrible image. At least they had their pajamas on his head; he couldn't speak for Shylock. "Maybe we'll nix nap time altogether."

“That isn’t even what I meant!” She spluttered. “God, I’m not going to be able to say anything this weekend without you turning it into one of your disgusting pervy fantasies. You are sick Abernathy, just sick!”

For his part, Shy was trying to keep the delighted look of amusement off his face. It wouldn’t do to have two angry girls out to beat him up... as interesting an occurrence as that could potentially be. “Somehow, I doubt either of you trust each other enough to let down your guard and sleep in front of each other.”

Abby smiled semi-satisfied with that response. "You know me so well," she said in a deadpan tone. Then she laughed because it was true. "We'll have nap time in separate rooms," she promised. "And no weapons hidden under pillows."

Adelaide sighed loudly. “Fine, I’ll move my wa-- uh, weaponized, tooth-fairy killing device. Flyswatter, whatever. Use your fancy words.” Shit, she’d gone and forgotten about not mentioning magic. Which on the side, meant that whizbees on toast was out of the question for breakfast. She wrinkled her nose.

At the mention (or almost-mention) of a wand, Shy’s ears perked up. “You sleep with your wand? What do you think is going to come at you in the night?”

Oh, she’d really gone and done it now. She looked over at Abby helplessly.

Abby wanted to torture her for a moment. "Look what you did!" she accused. But then she was breaking out in a grin and fighting the giggles.

Tim raised an eyebrow and looking between the three other occupants of the kitchen. "How is this funny?"

Abernathy winked at Shy. "He found me out."

“Found you out? That makes it sound like I walked in on some super-secret magic-doings. You told me. Or showed me.” He shook his head. “Living in fear now. If I do something wrong she’ll explode my head from across the room.”

"I wouldn't know how," she promised, but she grinned because she left the idea that maybe she might do something worse if he misbehaved.

Tim just shook his head slowly. "Isn't there a law against telling?"

Abby shrugged. "You have to break it sometimes." She gave Shy a very meaningful look. "This was the right time to break it."

“Abernathy doesn’t care much for rules, Tim you should know that.” Adelaide added with an eyeroll. At any rate, she was glad not to have accidentally spilled the beans just then; as funny as it would have been to watch her try and scramble for an answer, Addy would have felt pretty bad about it. It was a pretty big revelation to dump on somebody-- some people couldn’t handle it-- and she didn’t ever want to be the cause of an issue in somebody else’s relationship.

That Abby wasn’t a stickler for rules was news to Shy, however. “Really?” He turned to her. “Then why are so anal about my driving?”

She looked sheepish, but she had nothing to say in her defense. Then she decided to bite the bullet. "You're kind of horrifying behind the wheel." Then she quirked her shoulders upward and tried to offer him a cute face, but she didn't really know how to make one.

“Lies. My driving is flawless.” He shook his head at her. It was only paperwork! “You just want to be in charge of the car ‘cause you’re a control freak.” Scary little dominatrix wasn’t exactly the right turn of phrase given present company, even if it was what he was thinking.

"I am not," she replied a little sourly. "You mess around in the car." Though she was thinking that she didn't really help in that regard. "Anyway, that's not even remotely what we were talking about."

Tim tried very hard not to smirk at her, but it wasn't quite working. "No, we were talking about how you like to break the rules."

"That wasn't even... We're not... Oh I quit," she said throwing up her hands and debating a sharp smack on Shylock's ass to shut them all up.

Addy was surprised to see Abernathy give up so quickly. “It’s almost as if... oh my god. Have you been tamed?” At this point, she couldn’t even tell who she was going to get into trouble with this line of teasing.

Shy burst into laughter at the idea of Abby being at all ‘tamed’ or ‘controlled’ or any kind of serene little being that wasn’t absolutely boss of everything and everyone. No, he almost crammed his hand into his mouth trying not to point out that she was just that wild.

Abby raised a single eyebrow at Adelaide. The other one shot up at Shylock so that she ended up looking surprised instead of flustered. A blush was rising to her cheeks and she felt hot all over. "I'm not even dignifying either of you with any sort of confirmation or denial." She huffed and crossed her arms hard over her chest.

Tim on the other hand had managed to hide his amusement this time and was staying far clear of the field of fire.

“What do you want me to say?” Shy asked her, partway between amusement and helplessness. “I will tell them whatever you want so long as I don’t get my ass kicked for laughing so hard. She’s...” He glanced over at her, looking for an indication. “Not tamed? Just as evil as ever? Completely angelic and I have no idea what you could possibly mean? Am I getting close?” He wriggled out of reach of the swat coming towards him, giggling.

"Can you tame a wild animal?" Tim asked, peering around his hiding spot by the door just long enough to get a piece of pizza crust thrown at him.

Bill cleared his throat as he re-entered the kitchen. "I wouldn't suggest it," he muttered. "Clear out," he commanded gently and set about to checking the turkey and getting out other items that would need to be cooked this morning. "Find some other spot to harass Abby."

"Thanks dad. Real helpful," Abby sulked as she exited the kitchen.

Tim was smart enough to run clear of her and dashed straight for his room.

“Oh thanks! Leave me out here to deal with them!” Adelaide yelled after him, forgetting that Bernadine was still sleeping. “Wuss!” She shook her head and turned back to Abby. “Well, at least you still scare the pants off somebody.”

"He's just smarter than you," Abby replied tartly and proceeded to tackle Adelaide in the hallway.

She yelped loudly at the sudden take-down, landing facefirst in carpet for the first time in... she couldn’t even remember how long. “I will end you!”

Shy just didn’t know what to do with himself. On the one hand, he should probably pull Abby off her. On the other.. it was a girlfight. There were very few reasons good enough to step in and end it. Particularly when it was a pyjama girlfight. That was one of the best kinds. He finally ventured the least offensive statement he could think of that wasn’t directly asking them to stop. “Are you guys going to have enough room, right here?”

Abby wasn't putting much effort into the scuffle. She just didn't have it in her this morning to pummel Adelaide in her stupid, dreadful face. "Why don't you come down here and find out," she challenged Shylock. "And stop enjoying this!"

“Nuh-uh. I am not falling into this trap. Keeping all my hands and arms and feet and face away from the wrestling girls on the floor. I will watch from over here. And I’ll enjoy it if I want!”

Boys. They were so predictable. Adelaide tried to throw Abernathy off her, but only succeeded in putting her hand in her face and shoving her head into the wall. “Get off me, you great big lesbian pervert! Find a different way to show off for your boyfriend and leave me out of it!”

"Not a lesbian," Abernathy argued lamely, but she managed to shove Adelaide heartily into the floor before she shoved off. As soon as she was up she had Shy pinned to the wall. "I'm sorry sweetie, what was that?"

Addy squeaked into the floor, lashing out with her foot as the other girl moved away. She’d been trying so hard not to start fights, but seriously, was she in the wrong to react to treatment like this? Abernathy was just lucky she didn’t throw out a blasting charm; with all the practice she’d been getting teaching Wandless, she could probably send her clear into the next room. “Definitely a pervert though.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Shy denied all part in this miniature fight, even though she’d definitely heard him and even if she hadn’t, she’d still have known he was watching with glee. “This is your fault,” he added, speaking to Adelaide over Abby’s shoulder. “You had to go start up making her need to prove her... not-taking-shit-from-anybody-ness.”

"You'd love it if I was," she replied to Adelaide and then smacked Shy hard enough to let him know that he wasn't to say a single thing about Abernathy's perverted tendencies. Especially if he wanted to experience them again.

“If you were? Dude, you are spanking your slave in front of me. You are the worst kind of pervert.” She gathered herself up off the floor and shuddered. “I’ll have to go sneak in with B, protect my poor innocent eyes.”

"Poor innocent eyes my ass," Abernathy mumbled in retort. She lightened her grip on Shylock so that it was less like shoving him into the wall and more like cuddling him against it. "You go do that." As soon as the hall was clear she leaned enough to offer him a sweet kiss. "You don't mind being my slave do you?"

He pouted at her. “I’m getting demoted awfully fast. I was ‘boyfriend’ before we left, ‘pet’ by the time we arrived, and now ‘slave’? I’m really concerned about what I’ll be tomorrow.”

"With any luck smushed into my mattress," she teased with a sexy little puff of breath toward his ear. "You're the boy I love," she promised pulling back so she could look at him. "Besides, I don't care what she thinks. I care what you think."

He quirked an eyebrow at her prediction for tomorrow, and grinned. “Well, at least I’m a pampered boyfriend-pet-slave?” He tucked her hair behind her ears and kissed the shell of her ear. “I think you care a little bit, though,” he whispered. “Or was that not a ‘shut up or die’ smack?”

"She doesn't need to know we're perverts," she teased with a smirk. Though he had a point. Maybe she cared a little. That was more than a little confounding. Since when did she care anything what Adelaide thought? "Also, I'm glad you can read my smacks." She leaned in and rewarded him with another delightful kiss.

“Well, I’m getting fluent in them,” he laughed. “I guess it’s true; constant exposure does make you better at it! Soon I’ll have worked out all the pokes and elbows too,” he added with a tender squeeze.

She felt a little guilty at the word constant. "Is it really constant?" she asked shyly, resting her head on his shoulder. Then she found herself fighting a yawn. "Oh you're going to deal with a cranky Abby today," she warned. "Might be nap time."

Constant was a little unfair. “They’re... frequent,” he amended, resting his head on top of hers and curling his arms around her. “I’ll move you to the couch. I’m sorry I woke you up so early.” He nudged her forward enough to wrap his arm around her in such a way that she could walk without having to do it backwards.

"I'll try to be nicer," she said and squished against him to head back into the living room. She eased down onto the couch pulling him with her. She closed her eyes, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I could nap right here, just like this."

He smiled against the side of her face, stroking her hair lovingly. “Do, then. But I can’t promise I won’t fall asleep too.” He’d just have to make a conscious effort not to snuggle too comfortably.

A Very Awkward Thanksgiving Morning

2011-11-27T23:20:12Z

Who: Abernathy Ford and Shylock Wilson
When: Thanksgiving Break!
Where: Castle Ford, Luzerne NY
What: Early morning sneakings for the lovebirds.
Rating: NSFW

Shy tended to sleep like a log even under the worst of circumstances. Bumpy bus rides, or a top-volume party in the dorm next door, early morning construction; these things didn’t bother him. He could sleep through them all. Probably the only thing that did affect his ability to sleep was that first night in an unfamiliar environment. It took him just that little bit longer to get to sleep, and once he woke up and didn’t recognize his surroundings, he was awake.

That happened particularly early this Thanksgiving morning. He lay in bed for a while, eventually sneaking out to the bathroom as quietly as he could in an effort not to wake Tim. Rather than sneak back afterwards, he took it upon himself to annoy Abernathy. After all, what else was he there for? He leaned on the back of the couch and watched her sleep for a moment, before dangling his arm over and running his finger down the side of her face.

She should probably have been used to him stalking her in her sleep, but Abernathy wasn't. She didn't wake up, only stirred enough to slap his hand away from her face.

He grinned at the irritated sleep-slap, and reached down to poke her butt through her blanket. If he couldn’t wake her up, at least he’d give her some exceptionally weird dreams.

The finger jabbing into her butt was another irritation that slapped away with a mumbled "stop it. I don't like it like that." She rolled over onto her side and pushed her head into the couch cushions as if that would stop any further pokings and proddings.

He raised an eyebrow at that, wondering if she was dreaming about what it sounded like. He took her slapping hand, and moved it up near her face, trying to aim one of her fingers up her nose.

She woke up then, because someone was fucking with her. "I swear to god if it's Adelaide I'm going to kick your skinny, bitch ass out into the cold." The light was very wane in the living room, but just enough that she could tell it was her boyfriend pestering her once she got her eyes opens. "Shylock. You're dead to me."

“Morning!” He grinned at her from over the back of the couch and squished her hand. He definitely wasn’t brave or stupid enough to try and kiss her right now.

She groaned at his cheerful reply. "When are you going to learn I'm not a morning person?" She shifted on the couch so that if he wanted he could join her, but she wasn't quite ready to get up yet.

“Maybe when I’ve seen you more than oh, twice before midday.” He skirted around the edge of the couch and sat in the little space she made for him in front of her belly. He usually wasn’t a morning person himself, but he was awake and lonely and bored.

She couldn't decide if she wanted to throttle him or snuggle him. Both options sounded really good to her at the moment. She sighed at him and squished her body close to his, setting her closest hand on his knee for a little squeeze. "Sleep well?"

She didn’t seem to be going for the ‘killing him’ option, which was always good news, so he leaned down to brush her hair off her forehead and leave a gentle kiss. “Not as well as I would have with you,” he whispered with a cheeky little smile. He couldn’t help it. He was a cuddler.

She flattened him with a dark gaze. "You're lucky you're so goddamn cute." She poked his side and settled her hand there instead of on his knee. "Dad would kill you if he knew we'd ever had a slumber party." She wasn't sure that was true, but it was always good to have a little threat hanging over the boyfriend's head.

“That was all you. You called me at three am and told me your dorm was on fire, what was I supposed to do?”

"Say no," she replied with a giggle. She swatted at him playfully and decided to sit up. "You're going to kiss me and you're not going to say a goddamn thing about morning breath because you're the one who woke me up." She wrapped her leg over him and sat on his lap facing him to get a proper kiss in.

He wriggled back on the couch to get a little more balance (and not wake up the rest of the house because they crashed to the floor without it) and wrapped his arms around her. “Not a word,” he promised sweetly, sliding his hands up her back. Everything that was good about morning kisses cancelled out everything that was bad about morning breath, anyway.

She settled her arms on his shoulders and looked at him for a moment. He was entirely too adorable for his own good. His long eyelashes gave him that instantly boy-pretty look and he could get out of almost any kind of trouble just by batting them. What she liked best though were his smiles. She reached one finger out to trace his lips while licking her own. She gave him a moment before she dropped her hand to pounce in for a very serious morning time kiss, the sort that led to other serious bedroom activities if one wasn't careful.

Oh. Right. He really should have thought about the consequences of waking her up beyond ‘maybe I’ll get punched’. He curled his hands up in her hair, kissing her back just as fiercely as he could manage whilst shifting underneath her, trying to get her into a position where she couldn’t grind down on him so hard. “Abby,” he hissed finally, getting her attention with a sharp smack to her ass. “Are you trying to cause a problem?”

She smirked at him, cat to canary. "What kind of problem?" she asked with as much false innocence as she could muster.

“The kind of problem where everyone else in the house wakes up and finds you on my lap because if you make me hard I am not letting you go.” If he was going to suffer the embarrassment of being caught like that, she was going to suffer being the obvious cause of it.

She giggled, almost evilly. She leaned in and brushed her lips over his ear. "I like you hard," she teased seductively, but then she pulled back to settle on his lap a little less tightly. "You woke a sleeping beast. You know my MO is sexual espionage."

“I didn’t think you’d do it with your family around! You’re iffy about kissing me or letting me hold your hand in front of people, but you’re fine with giving me a lap dance in full view; that’s just not right.” It was all kinds of awesomely amazingly gloriously not right.

"Nobody's awake yet," she replied sulkily. She slumped into his arms and dropped her head onto his shoulder. "I dunno," she continued. "I'm not cool with PDA. I've been trying to be better about it." She had to be with a boyfriend like Shylock.

He tucked her hair behind her ears and nibbled gently at the one closest to his mouth. “Nobody’s awake now. You want to bet everyone’s still asleep by the time you get me hard and want to do something about it?” He shook his head. That would be an entirely new level of PDA.

"Fair enough," she replied, but the way he said hard and suggested he might do something about it had her far too hot; she was getting a taste of her own medicine. "We could always take the car out for a drive. There are plenty of parking spots out along the back roads where we'd never get caught."

“ … Jesus.” He grinned into her hair. Did deprivation really make her that much more insatiable? He’d have to remember that.

"Is that a yes or a no?" she pressed, leaning into him for another scorching kiss. Because she was a yes. Her whole body was yelling yes.

His hands coursed down her sides, coming to rest on her thighs. He paused there a moment, before rubbing his thumbs up the insides, pulling against the fabric of her pajama bottoms. “Where did you put the keys?” He asked finally, an anxious, anticipatory moan against her lips.

"Hung them up inside the front door," she replied and shivered into his touch. She didn't want to get up, but she didn't want to prolong the drive out either. She got up, grabbed her blanket and tip-toed to the door for her boots and coat which were still hanging up. She turned back with a saucy little smile. "You coming or what?"

He was behind her in an instant, feet in his sneakers (to hell with the laces) and hips pushed up against her. “You’re insane,” he whispered. And I love it. He reached for his coat and shrugged it on quickly, freeing up his hands to pull her back into him.

She was out the door as quietly and quickly as she could managed and in the driver's seat. She knew the back roads well and could get them to a quiet, secluded place in minutes. She pulled over and turned off the engine. "We're going to have to make some body heat," she said with a truly seductive smile. She unbuckled herself and crawled over onto his lap on the passenger side. It was a bit cramped, but she didn't care. It gave her a fantastic excuse to be squished up against his body tightly.

He almost didn’t know where to start. Her mouth, he decided, was one of his favorite places, so he reached up and pulled her down for a blistering kiss, biting hard on her lip and squeezing the back of her neck. His other hand slipped inside her coat, feeling for the hem of her top to slide up and under.

She practically purred under his touch and the rough kisses. She removed her hands from behind his neck just long enough to shed her coat and then her fingers were in his hair again and holding him tight to her kisses. She shivered a bit because of the cold, but more so because of the way he made her feel, tingling and on the edge, capable of anything.

He found skin under her top, other hand pulling just playfully at the hair at the nape of her neck before sliding down to join the other. His hands smoothed over her back, fingertips digging in to knead at the muscle and drag over the flesh on her spine. One hand found its way around her ribs, short nails scraping over her creamy skin; the other flat in the small of her back and holding her closer still.

She moaned into his lips. "More of that please," she whispered and moved her lips to nibble on the spot just below and slightly behind his ear. "Your hair's getting too long," she giggled, but it was interrupted by another moan as he scraped his nails over her skin. She moved her hips against him, grinding her seat across his lap. The thin material of her pajama pants only served to increase the sensation.

“So pull it out of the way,” he said, voice gravelled by distraction. He thrust his hips up against her and nipped at her ear, missing completely and letting out a frustrated little growl.

She giggled again and pushed his hair back, holding it with one hand. Her other hand started to rove, struggling with his clothes to get a good grip anywhere. "I need you more naked," she growled back.

He reached down between her legs to grab the bottom of his tshirt and lift it up for her, putting it into her hand and returning his hands to her skin. He squeezed around her waist and leaned forward to bite at her breasts through her pajama tank, pulling at the fabric momentarily, and scraping his teeth up her neck. “You’re awfully demanding for someone fully dressed.”

She pulled his shirt up over his face and held it there for a moment, rubbing her breasts against the fabric teasingly. "What do you want off first. Tops or bottoms?" Then she pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it into the backseat.

That was horribly cruel, he dug his fingers into her hips particularly harshly at the treatment and pulled her hard into his lap so that she could feel exactly the effect she was having on him. “If you’re going to behave like that you can take it all off. Or,” he said, voice dark and low as he grabbed her wrists. “You can leave it all on and think long and hard about how terrible you are.”

She leaned in to place a very hard kiss to his neck and then bit him. "You want it off; I'll take it off." She had a bit of squirming to do and a bit of finagling to torture him while she got them off. She managed to get her pants and her panties off and tossed them into the back. Then she grabbed his hands to set on her tank top and ran them up the sides of her body, pulling the top with them. She tossed it behind her and smiled at him, entirely naked in his lap.

He thought he was aroused before. After this little show, he was so hard it almost hurt. He rolled his head back on the seat for a moment, trying to collect his wits. After a few deep breaths, he came back to her, sliding his hands up her belly and over her breasts, up to her neck to pull her down for a kiss. Once satisfied in that regard, his hands kept their course, this time across her shoulders and down her arms, finally trailing off to grip her thighs.

She reached down and worked her hands into the band of his pajama pants, working around his boxers and reaching for his erection. She got a good grip and started to stroke him easily, lips pressed hot against his neck. "Couldn't even make it through a weekend," she whispered.

“I tried,” he whimpered in response, rubbing at her thighs at an erratic pace, heavy-handed and clumsy. When a slightly misaimed grope brought his fingertips right up between her legs and he felt how wet she was he let out a strangled moan and abandoned her legs altogether; one hand reaching up to tangle in her hair and pull her from his neck, the other coming to rest low on her belly, thumb sliding slickly up and down her slit.

She moaned deeply as his fingers found their way between her legs, even deeper when he pulled her head back by her hair. "Shy," she managed to say between fondness and begging. She worked her hand up and down his length, using his moans to gauge how fast she should stroke, how much pressure to apply. She'd wanted him badly before now, but it all paled compared to this moment, surrounded by trees, naked in his car, the almost danger of it. She pulled away from a kiss just long enough to whisper: "I want you."

“I love you.” He didn’t think she’d believe him; definitely not now while she was naked and had her hands in his pants. But he meant it. He ducked forward and kissed her again to silence any protest she had about the matter, releasing his hold on her hair to slide his hand down her back.

She didn't entirely know what to make of it. She wanted to believe if only because her own feelings were definitely growing in the same direction. She wasn't quite ready to say it back; she was glad when he kissed her to prevent any kind of response. She pulled back, moving her hand slower now. She kept her eyes locked with his and smiled before it was replaced with a moan, her lips twisting around the sound.

They hadn't talked about the virginity topic again since that first time. She wanted to take it slow, didn't want to rush him into anything or worse rush herself into it. This morning, she was ready and she wanted him. She leaned into him, her whole body crushed against his. "Do you have a condom?"

“That’s not what I--” He closed his eyes and rubbed his face. He knew it had been a bad time to say ‘I love you’. He shook his head. “No. I don’t. I didn’t think I’d need to.”

"No. I..." She sighed against him and stopped moving her hand for a moment, but she didn't move to take it away from his warmth. "I know that," she said quietly against his ear. "You're not like that." She took her free hand to cup his cheek. "I'm ready. I want you." But clearly he didn't have a condom, so it was kind of a moot point. She could have accio'd the thing into the car or even apparated out to grab one, but she wasn't sure the heat of the moment was the time to mention that "oh hey, Shylock, I'm a witch and I can do magic. Now forget about all that and fuck me silly."

He offered her a very weak smile. “Well... right now? That kinda sucks.” Then he laughed, because he sounded like a petulant fifteen year old. He pushed back into the seat to straighten up a little, stretching his neck to kiss her again. “You don’t want to lose your virginity in the front seat of a car, anyway.”

She pouted a bit and pulled her hand from out of his pajamas. She pushed against his chest as if he didn't need to tell her what she wanted. "You're killing me," she groaned and slumped against him lamely. "You're going to fuck me like crazy when we get back to school."

“Any which way you like,” he promised, smirking. “We can climb in the backseat and grope like teenagers, if you like?” He added, not yet content to ease up with the teasing.

She slid backward, resting on the dashboard. "Ooo. It's cold," she said sitting up straighter. She frowned at him. Her body was still turned on but her mind was in total turmoil. She leaned in close and whispered: "you promise you'll make love to me when we get back to school? Pinky swear?"

He shook his head. “No pinky swear. But I promise.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck. “Stop frowning.”

She forced a little smile for him and started climbing into the backseat. "Well come on. The least you can do is spank me and give me a good grope."

He grinned and made to follow her. “Well, if it’s the least I can do...” He landed a slap on her ass as she maneuvered between the seats, and tumbled after her awkwardly. Once he was right way up again, he pushed his hair out of his eyes and pulled her close.

She giggled at the slap and then sighed against him when he joined her in the backseat. She had her hands in his hair again and she kissed him, but a lot of the passion had gone out of it. She was feeling a little ashamed and awkward. She wanted him to take her virginity but she wasn't ready to say I love you to him. She couldn't figure out what was more fucked up about that. And she was still mixed up about telling him about being a witch. The thought hadn't really occurred to her before now simply because she hadn't used magic since graduating. She tried to keep her face blankly interested, but her thoughts kept floating to the surface and she was finding it harder and harder to just enjoy the little touches and the sweet kisses.

“Still with me, sunshine?” A recent series of nips and tickles had gone unacknowledged, and when he’d pulled back to see what was up, she looked... preoccupied. He couldn’t decide if maybe she was tired from the early wake-up call, or annoyed at him for somehow not knowing that condoms were an essential thing to pack on a ‘meeting the family’ trip. He shifted off her slightly to give her some room to breathe, though not so far to lose the warm touch of her skin.

Abernathy sighed because she wasn't with him at all. "No," she said honestly. It was heavy and she struggled to fight tears as she said it. How had it gone from hot and horny to light and playful and then so distracted and dark? "I'm sorry," she whispered and looked away from his face so that he couldn't see how upset this was making her. "There's something I have to tell you."

She wriggled away from him, sat up and slid on the clothes she could find in the backseat. Her tank was up front and she figured the best way to tell him was to show him. "Accio shirt." She was never very good at wandless magic and hadn't thought to take it at Dresden, but her shirt managed to wrangle it's way up from the floor and land on top of the front seat. She grabbed it and slid it on without saying a word or explaining. Most people had a tendency not to believe magic even when they saw it. Abby believed that Shylock wasn't most people, but she wanted to give it a little time to let it sink in. Turning her head slowly she took in his face and waited for his reaction.

He propped himself up as she pulled away, by now well used to her seemingly random-onset need to get dressed. Usually it didn’t have her so distressed. He tried to think of something reassuring to say, but then her shirt was moving on its own... and he just stared dumbly.

“You want to maybe... run that by me again?”

She bit the inside of her lip so hard she could taste blood. "I'm a witch," she said ripping the band-aid off. "I can do magic. I just summoned my shirt to the backseat." She was breathing heavily, erratically. This was it; this was the last hurdle for Abernathy. "I couldn't tell you sooner because I didn't know for sure how you felt about me and there are rules. But I didn't want to lie about it and I wanted you to know before we..." Well, it was fairly obvious seeing as how he'd almost just had her in the car what she meant. "If it's too much for you I totally understand. I can drive you home right now and you can pretend you never met me."

Shy had no idea what to make of this. Magic wasn’t real. It wasn’t even possible. And yet, he’d just seen it. This girl was absolutely turning his world upside down, and not always in ways he was sure he was comfortable with.

He sat up properly in the backseat and buried his face in his hands. This was just so much to think about. It didn’t change anything, of course, he still loved her, still wanted to be with her. But beyond that... well, his long-established view of the way the world worked was kind of in pieces right now, and that would need fixing. He wasn’t sure that the backseat of a car on a deserted road, in his pajamas, was the place to try and do that.

“Can we just, can we go back to the house? Please.”

She swallowed past all the emotion built up in her throat. He hadn't answered any of the unasked questions she was throwing on the table in front of him. "Yeah," she whispered, wiping idly at her face though she wasn't actually crying. Not that she could tell; there were entirely too many emotions squirming through her head to actually gauge them.

She looked at him for a moment, too afraid to even touch him. She climbed through the gap in the seats to the front and settled into the driver's side. She sat for a long time, waiting for something, anything. She couldn't argue with it anymore; she had the worst timing.

He pulled his shirt on after she climbed forward, and got out of the car to walk around to the passenger side rather than try and snake through. Opening the door to a blast of cold air, he let out a string of curses that had just as much to do with the situation as it did the freezing temperature. He settled into the front seat again, putting on his seatbelt without a word and just stared straight ahead, deep in thought. He had so many questions, if he could just get his thoughts straight to ask them.

Once he was settled she turned the key and focused on driving home. It was deadly silent and though no longer than getting there it seemed like she'd gotten turned around somewhere and was simply driving in circles. She wasn't, but it felt a million miles longer. She pulled into the driveway and sat in the passenger seat for another excruciating moment. She didn't know what to say to him that could ease his mind or make any of this more palatable. "Shy," she tried and then words failed her altogether. She looked at him with every bit of pleading she could muster in her eyes. Please accept me. Please be okay with this. I think I... She bit her lip, tasted blood again. She dragged her eyes away from him and settled her forehead on the steering wheel. I need you in my life. I'd give it all away if I could.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he muttered. He knew he wasn’t reacting the way she’d like. He wasn’t even reacting the way he would like, but there was a lot on his mind. Every time he thought he’d reconciled one aspect of this revelation, another thought popped up; another thing that needed explaining.

She rubbed her hand over her chin and then twisted her wrist so that her hand covered her mouth upside down. "Sorry," she mumbled between her fingers. She bounced her head off the steering wheel a few times. God, this is going well. She turned her head on the wheel to look at him again. "I don't really know what to say. I know it's like... dropping a huge bomb on you without warning. I dunno, Shy. I couldn't keep it in anymore. I'd rather you know and decide now if this is going to work. I don't want to keep secrets from you." You're that important to me.

When she started banging her head on the steering wheel he became alarmed, and reached out to grab her. “Stop that!” Oh god, she’s gone completely insane. He pulled her sideways so that her head was on his chest and he could hold her still. “You’re...” Crazy. A witch. Scaring me a little. “Just, fuck, Abby. I don’t know what to think.”

"I'm sorry," she sobbed against his chest, the emotions finally boiling over. "I don't want to lose you over this stupid thing. It's just something I can do. I was just born this way." She sighed against him, wrapping her arms tight around him as if she could hold him to her forever. "I wish I had better timing and I wish I knew how to explain it so it made some kind of sense to you."

“Oh god, don’t cry.” They’d go back in there all awkward and uncomfortable and she’d have cryface and the others would think he tried to molest her or something. He stroked her hair and bowed his head to press a very small, completely undemanding kiss to the nape of her neck. “You’re not gonna lose me; I love you. I just... don’t love that I have to think different things about how stuff works now.”

And just like that he said exactly what she needed him to say. She looked up at him bleary faced and offered him a little smile. "I love you too." It was out and it was exactly what she wanted and needed to say. She leaned forward and pressed a very chaste kiss to his lips. She laughed a bit as she pulled away. "God, I'm a mess." She swiped at her face some more and then leaned her head lightly on his shoulder. "One of these days I promise I'll stop turning your world upside down."

He offered her a half-grin in response. “That would be awesome, really.” He kneed at the glovebox to try and get it open without having to take his arms away from around her, though he had to remove one anyway to fish out some tissues. “Save future bombshells for when I’m so drunk I’m trying to be a lapdog.”

Abby squished herself into him as much as she could from the passengers seat. If it weren't for their earlier aborted rendezvous she would have crawled into his lap and snuggled him. "I like it when you're my little lapdog," she teased and kissed his neck softly. She took the tissues he offered and cleaned up her face a bit more. "You ready to go inside and get toasty? I can make some coffee, or maybe some irish coffee. I bet we've got Bailey's in the house. It's got to be five o'clock somewhere."

“Literal lapdog. I’ll try to curl up on you and sleep.” And god knows that wouldn’t work, he was just too big and she too small. He smiled properly at her offer of spiked coffee and made to get out of the car again. “Yes, get me warm and tell me all about your magic.”

Continued here.

A Very Awkward Thanksgiving, Part Three

2011-11-26T11:36:25Z

A Very Awkward Thanksgiving, Part Two

2011-11-26T11:12:35Z

A Very Awkward Thanksgiving, Part One

2011-11-26T10:52:39Z

Who: Abernathy, Bernadine, Bill and Tim Ford, Shylock Wilson, Adelaide Legaux
When: Thanksgiving Break!
Where: Castle Ford, Luzerne NY
What: You know what, I can't even tell for having to split up the fucking logs. FUCK YOU SCRIBBLD. Shy meets EVERYONE or something. Part one of who-the-fuck-knows.
Rating: NSFW

“We’ve been driving foreverrrrr.” Shy pressed his face against the window and looked out at the endless passing trees lining the roadsides. “Are we even in New York anymore? Can we pull over? When are we supposed to be there?”

Abernathy had been rather forceful about not letting him drive ever since she’d found out about his slight and inconsequential lack of a license. At first he thought it quite adorable on her part, but it soon became frustrating; especially on this very long road trip to meet her family. It was way too long a drive for one person to make in one go, but she absolutely refused to let him take over even for a little while.

He’d tried taking a nap, but it didn’t last long, and when he woke up he was far too awake to even attempt it again. He’d tried begging, puppy eyes, poke-attacks and tickles, but found she had become desensitized to all of his persuasive techniques. It probably wouldn’t have been so bad if it were just car fever, but he was experiencing a great deal of anxiety over the purpose of the trip. It would be a very, very long weekend if her family didn’t like him.

She wasn't worried about that part yet. Abernathy had a lot of things on her mind, not the least of which was the fact that Adelaide would be coming home with Bernadine this vacation. Or that she hadn't really spoken to her father since the whole blow up over the summer when the girls planned for Bernadine to take Abernathy's place at Dresden. Bringing home her boyfriend was like... icing on the shit cake.

Not that she wasn’t happy and excited that he'd agreed. She wanted him to meet her family very much because that was always a hurdle. If he could accept them and they could accept him... That went a long way in shoring up this whacky relationship. She worried maybe it was too soon, but she felt like the Ford clan was a bandaid best ripped off quickly.

"We're almost there silly boy. Look at the trees. Or play the color car game. With yourself. Yes, that's it. Play with yourself." Which had her giggling as she turned off the main road and onto the dirt road that led to her backwoods home. They wouldn't run into much traffic out this way. He'd have better luck counting birds than cars.

He took off his seatbelt and turned around in his seat, looking around to see if it was just him, or if they really were on the least car-populated road in America. “You could let me drive for a bit? You know there are no rules on the dirt roads. The law only applies to asphalt.”

She offered him a bit of side eye before stopping the car and taking off her seat belt too. "I suppose you need the practice if you're ever going to pass that test." Which you probably won't take anyway. She got out and rushed around the car. She was used to the cold, but she'd had the heat on in the car and the drastic change surprised her. "Come on. Move over," she challenged and pushed at him slightly as she opened the passenger door.

He grinned enormously and climbed over, surprised that she hadn’t just reached over and punched him like she had the first five times he’d used that same reasoning. “Practice, my ass. I can already drive. I object to needing a piece of paper that says that.”

"I object to your objection," she said idly. "If I can be put upon to get a piece of paper..." But then she trailed off. She couldn't quite explain yet why she had good reasons to object to having a driver's license. "We're just off the way a bit further down." She pointed toward the left side of the car over the dashboard. The trees were thicker here. There were only a few houses out this way, most of them off the dirt road and pushed back into the trees.

“Is this ‘a bit further down’ like when you said an hour and a half ago that we were ‘just a bit away still’, or is it actually just a bit further down? This steering wheel is starting to look a lot like a pizza.”

"It's actually just a bit," she said and poked him hard in the ribs. She adored this boy, but she'd have to find some better way to travel with him. Long car rides were not a good idea.

He squirmed away from the hard jab. “Look, I know, I’m totally irresistible and you just can’t keep your hands off me, but you have got to not grope me once we get there. I can’t believe I’m saying that.”

She giggled a bit at that. "I can't believe you're saying that either." She leaned over to slide her hand up his arm, squeezing his shoulder happily. "We might be able to sneak in a quick make out in the car before we have to go inside."

“Don’t tell anyone I said that. They’ll take away my manbership to the straight guys club.” He grinned, and nipped gently at the hand on his shoulder.

"Oh honey. I forgot to pass on the message. You haven't paid your dues in so long they revoked it already." Then she beamed at him. "Of course, you can share my manbership. You almost count as a spouse. Definitely as a pet."

He laughed, and reached over to squeeze her leg. “Well, I definitely meet the grooming requirements of a manpet. Anything that gets clipped more than once a year is pushing it.”

"Dad's going to love that," she teased. Her dad probably wouldn't care. It was about that time of year that he started letting his beard go wild for the winter. She pointed toward the driveway. "Here we are," she said. "You can pull up behind the jeep." Which meant that Bernadine and Adelaide were probably home already. She didn't see Timmy's truck yet, but it was just as likely that he was driving home at the last minute.

Shy rolled his eyes at the teasing; she’d probably find his reaction to haircuts and shaving a great deal funnier if he’d ever seen what happened when he was actually and inescapably faced with the threat. He pulled up a safe distance behind the jeep and killed the engine. “See? Didn’t hit a thing. You should let me drive more often.”

"On dirt roads and dirt roads alone. You get pulled over by anyone but Sandy and we're both in trouble." She leaned across and snatched the keys from his hands, just in case he got the urge to run away. She turned her head back and kissed him sweetly. "I hope you have a good time this weekend." Then she grinned like a fiend. "And don't fuck it up."

“Really reassuring, thanks.” He combed his fingers through her hair and leaned down to kiss her fully. It might be the last chance he got this weekend, after all. “I think I’ll be fine until I’m shown the backyard cemetery where the rest of the guys you tried to bring home wound up.”

She reached over to squeeze his hand and offered him a reassuring kiss. "You'll be great," she said. "And if they don't like you I'll just disown them."

“But no pressure, right?” He teased, pulling her closer by the hand. “Eyes on face, hands in pockets, best behavior. I’ll be a boring, gentlemanly, thing who definitely isn’t trying to get in your pants.” He smothered a giggle into her lips.

She kissed him back, nipping his lips in warning. "Don't be boring," she teased. "Dad will see right through the act." Then she started at the abrupt knock to the passenger side window.

"Hey kids, break it up," Tim laughed. He'd pulled the truck up behind them and climbed out quietly when he realized there were two people in the strange car.

For her part, Adelaide was trying not to laugh her ass off, managing to wrestle her amusement down to a mild smirk. AB and her friend couldn’t have been there long, because she and Tim hadn’t passed them on their way into town and back.

Shy, however, was completely mortified. What an excellent start to the weekend; getting caught making out before they’d even set foot in the house. Just... excellent. He offered Abernathy a sheepish grin, and got out of the car, red-faced.

Abby got out of the car a little red-faced herself. "And what exactly were you up to?" she asked, poking at him and eyeing Adelaide suspiciously. She hoped one of her siblings had mentioned to her that their other guest for the weekend was a muggle.

Timmy shrugged. "None of your never mind."

“Supplies,” Addy lifted the grocery bag as proof. “You make it sound like we were off kidnapping small children or something. When did you get here?”

“Just now,” Shy offered. Any earlier and they would have probably made it to the house without getting busted.

Abernathy shrugged. "Might have been. I wouldn't put it past her. Shylock, this is Adelaide. Addy, Shy," she said by way of introducing them. "And this is my brother Tim."

Tim nodded and offered his free hand for a shake. "Nice to meet you. Shy, is it?"

“Yeah,” he laughed. The name thing was always the first thing to come up in conversation, he was used to it now. “Nice to meet you too. Abby talks about you guys a lot, I’m really looking forward to meeting you all.” Adelaide she had mentioned maybe.. once or twice? He wasn’t really sure what her connection to be there for the holidays was.

Bernadine had invited her, actually, but she’d be absolutely a liar if she claimed that was the only reason she wanted to come. “C’mon.” She shoved the bag into Tim’s arms. “You guys might be used to this subzero shit, but I am freezing my ass off.”

"It's hardly subzero," Abernathy replied with a scowl, but she made her way toward the house and ushered everyone in. "We're home," she called.

"It's about time," Bill called from the kitchen. "Oops. Wrong kid," he added as he poked his head out and grinned at Abernathy. He thought Bernadine had gone with Tim and Adelaide, but apparently she'd been reading quietly on the couch and he was oblivious. "And you brought friends!" He stepped out, wiping his dirty hands on the back of his pants and offering it to Shylock. "You must be Shy. I'm Abby's dad. You can call me Bill. None of that sir business in my house."

Timmy moved into the kitchen and settled down his bag, happy to leave the introduction of Abernathy's already embarrassed boyfriend to her. The kitchen smelled good tonight. They were having pizzas, since the real feast was tomorrow afternoon.

“Hey, Bill. Thanks for having me.” Shy was somewhat comforted by the lack of formality. It was always much easier to meet a friendly face than it was to try and not offend someone looking for a reason to kill you from the get-go.

"I'm sure she's scared your pants off by now," Bill said and then chuckled when he realized the double entendre in that statement.

Shy side-eyed Abernathy a little at that. “Well, she is a terrifying temper beast, so... we’ll see how long it is until I’m hiding on the roof or something, begging for my life.” Kind of weird when your girlfriend is the more frightening option out of the rest her family. Then again, nobody else in the room had tried to punch him in the stomach, yet. He grinned, and poked at her.

"Sooner than later," she replied slyly and tempted poking him back.

Bernadine heard the commotion and ventured forth with a book under her arm. "Hi," she said quietly and stretched out her hand to shake his.

Abernathy was kind of amused at this introduction. "My sister, Bernadine." She didn't quite know how Bernadine had been passing herself off as the loud and foul mouthed Abernathy Ford at Dresden.

Timmy smirked at Adelaide in the kitchen, listening in on their introductions. "I bet she's scared more than just his pants off," he commented.

Addy shuddered. “I do not need to think about that, and neither do you.” She pulled a face, and turned on the oven light to eyeball the pizzas. “I’m going to have nightmares, and she’s not even my sister.”

Shy greeted Bernadine warmly. “I get the feeling you’re not the bad twin,” he joked lightly. “Unless this quiet thing is a genius cover...”

"No such thing as a bad twin," Bernadine said with a little twist in her lips that wasn't quite a smirk or a smile.

"Nah, she's the good one," Abernathy answered and then shrugged. "We should probably get your shit out of the car before we eat."

Bill was amused and didn't bother much to hide it. "Running off for some more secret kisses?"

Abernathy might have punched her dad if there wasn't company around. "That's no fair," she said plainly and pulled Shylock out of the front hallway and back into the fresh air.

This time, Adelaide laughed from the kitchen, loud enough for them to hear and she didn’t try keeping it down. She was amused that Bill called them out on it, though in AB’s place she’d have been horrified. That was the beauty in things happening to other people, though.

Blushing a furious red, Shy followed Abby out obediently without commenting on whether or not that was what they were going to do. “Well... that went okay?”

"Surprisingly," she said with an ironic smile. She might have stolen a secret kiss, but they could definitely do that later. "You're bunking with my brother tonight," she said. "So no secret booty calls." Then she laughed and kissed him anyway, pressed up against the side of his car.

In the kitchen Timmy was poking Adelaide for laughing so loudly, though it was kind of hysterical. He could fly under the radar with his growing connection to Adelaide. So far as he knew Bernadine was probably the only one who knew they'd kept in touch and she wasn't about to spill the beans.

"Are you planning on mortifying the poor boy all weekend?" Bernadine asked her father.

"Nah. I'm trying to mortify Abernathy more than him. Think it's working?"

Bernadine offered her father the side eye in response and said no more.

“Your poor dad,” Addy said between giggles, trying to keep it down and trying not to let Tim know that she was finding his touches extremely ticklish. “If only B had invited along that kid in the library who’s always mooning over her; then he’d really have his hands full.”

That was just... no, she couldn’t wish that on Bill. The amount of sneaking about was already insane.

Outside, Shy was quite happy to be pinned against the car. “Yeah, no. Even if I was bunking with you, not sure I’m brave enough to try it under the same roof as your family.” His gaze flicked over to the front door for a moment, before he turned his attention back to her and squeezed her close. “You’ll just have to control yourself,” he teased.

"There's a boy mooning over our little Bernadine?" Timmy asked with big eyes. He couldn't quite wrap his brain around it.

Bernadine went back to reading her book and pretended she didn't know what they were talking about in the kitchen. Bill of course leaned against the door frame just out of sight to spy. Sometimes it was too much fun being the dad.

Squeezed happily against her boyfriend Abernathy beamed. "I don't know if I can," she teased and stole a fervent kiss. "Come on, let's get your bags before they get even more ideas about what's going on out here."

“You are an absolute deviant,” Shy accused her, not at all offended by the idea. He reached behind his back to try and open the door without having to turn around and leave himself exposed to deviant acts. “Do they know that about you? Do they know I’m struggling with the constant threat of a little succubus coming after me? Maybe that’s why they’re being so nice. Pity kindness.”

Abernathy beamed at him viciously. "Someone else once said that of me." She raised an eyebrow because that very same person was in her kitchen at the moment, and the argument had only happened months ago. "I kicked her ass," she challenged and slapped the side of his leg since his ass was inaccessible. "If you really don't like the succubus I can always hold back," she threatened with the sort of smarmy grin that could disarm any boy. "I can hold back altogether if it will put you at ease."

“Kicked her ass, or spanked it?” He said pointedly. “Hard to tell with you.” Then she was threatening to withhold affections forever and he groaned. “I just can’t win, can I?” He managed to open the door, and turned her around so that he could lean in enough to grab his bag and still have her in view.

"You'll win eventually," she promised and leaned in to give him a much sweeter kiss. "Want me to carry anything?"

“I’m wearing most of it,” he said with a smirk, wrapping his free arm around her and squeezing to his side. “So, either back yourself into the car, or let’s go back in before they think that’s what happened anyway.”

She lingered in his arm a minute longer to debate what she wanted more: a scandal free weekend or a scandalous rendezvous in the car. "I promise we'll have a very good time when we get back to campus." She squeezed him back and then headed back for the house. "Timmy," she called. "Come show your new roomie his digs."

At that moment, Tim was quite busy being told about Bernadine’s admirer, whom Adelaide was describing to him with great amusement. “I think he’s about... fourteen? Tiny little thing with emo hair. Never smiles ever and he’s always in a book, but he definitely looks up when B comes in the library.” She put her hands up under her chin and demonstrated a wide-eyed look of wonder, before smirking and calling out to the living room. “Did I forget anything?”

Bernadine blushed into her book and closed her eyes tight. "He has a name," she called, a bit embarrassed. Of course, she had barged over and introduced herself to him when she caught him staring once, if only because that was exactly the sort of thing Abernathy would do. And that was her cover story. "But no. That's about the jist of it."

Abernathy grinned like a fool. "You have an admirer!"

Tim popped out of the kitchen and gave his sisters a thumbs up. "Good for you." Then he made his way into the hall and led Shylock away from the silly girls. He pushed open his room door which was reasonably clean, if only because he hadn't been living in it as of late. "Sad to say you're on the cot tonight, though if you're lucky Abernathy will give Adelaide her bed and you can sneak out to the couch." Then he laughed. "Sorry. We're... Well, you walked into a family of teasers."

Shy groaned good-naturedly. “That... is going to take a lot of getting used to. So, don’t mind me if I just die of embarrassment. Though I’m starting to get how Abby feels around my mom and sister.” He looked over his shoulder to the small congregation of teasers currently targeting his girlfriend’s twin.

“She does,” Adelaide teased. “Well, you do, actually.” She plunked down next to Bernadine on the couch. “You told him you were Abernathy, didn’t you?” This simple deception that allowed Bernadine to go to Dresden had so many complex little aftermaths.

Bernadine looked between Abernathy and Tim's room to check if Shylock could actually hear this bit. She lowered her voice quite a bit and addressed her sister. "You did tell her right?"

"You didn't?" Abernathy replied just a bit flabbergasted and trying very hard to whisper. "Adelaide, Shy's a muggle. He has no idea about magic or any of it."

Adelaide raised an eyebrow. “You planning on maybe telling sometime? What if you get that magic pox going around, and sneeze and turn into a bear? Just an idea, he probably might want to know what that’s about. And B, you’re going to want to move those Fizzing Whizbees out of the back of the fridge.” They’d emptied out their suite fridge for the holiday break so they didn’t come back to any nasty surprises in the kitchen when they came back.

"Sorry," Abernathy said a bit offended. She didn't know when would be a good time to tell Shylock about this part of her life. "I don't know everything about him either."

Then Bernadine shook her head. Magic wasn't just some mundane, sundry detail. It was a very big thing and he'd need to know eventually, if they were going to work out in the long run. "I'll take care of them," she said. She could shove them in the freezer out in the garage.

Then Abernathy shook her head. "Can we pretty please just pretend we're normal people for this vacation?" Then she realized how entirely futile a request that was and laughed a bit. "Well, you know what I mean."

“Normal versions of us?” Addy teased lightly. Magic or no magic, there was probably no way any of them could claim to be normal people, and she quite liked them that way. “Okay fine, actual best behavior. You won’t even know me.” She changed the subject as Tim and Shy wandered back over, asking Abernathy, “So... what’s happening with that... school you go to?”

"Oh, not much," she replied. "Studying. Finals are coming up soon." She tried to hide her dread at that. She'd done her fair share of studying and her midterm grades were good, but she didn't want to risk it and come home with miserable finals. "Already picked out my schedule for next semester. Taking ceramics for an elective."

Bernadine grinned. "That sounds like a lot of fun."

Timmy plunked down on the couch next to Adelaide. Bill had brought in a love seat he'd been working on in the wood shop and slapped a cushion on it. Abernathy picked this as her seat and patted the spot next to her for Shy. "Sounds like underwater basket weaving," Tim commented.

Addy just stared at Tim. Had he not gotten the ‘pretend to be normal’ message?

“Feels like underwater basket weaving, if you get it too wet? Half the sculpture classes get canceled every year because halfway through the semester, people give up and quit because until the guys get used to the wheels it’s just flying clay and plaster everywhere.” Shy grinned over at Abernathy. “You’ll get consolidated into the sophomores’ class, probably.”

"That sounds perfect for our little Abernathy," Tim said fondly.

She reached across the gap from the love seat to the couch and punched his arm as hard as she could. "It sounds like I'm going to have a rock solid semester."

“That sounds like a mudfight class. I’d take a mudfight class. It sounds fun!” Adelaide didn’t deal well with creative classes (she had trouble bringing what was in her head out where others could see it), but activities that involved throwing things were right up her alley.

“Beats Trans-- uh... accounting? Right?” She shot Bernadine a look that clearly said ‘I panicked and couldn’t think of a muggle school subject’.

Bernadine smiled. "Or Western Religions," she said with a tell-tale smirk.

Tim shook his head slowly at the two of them. "Nothing beats environmental studies. I don't care what you say. Running around outdoors for a grade is easily the best experience of my life."

Abernathy grinned. "They don't have anything like that at Burnham."

"Well that's what you get for picking a city school," Tim taunted.

Addy rolled her eyes. “Show off. I’m so jealous.”

Shy shrugged. “We have laser tag in the city, and that’s running around with lasers. So I can live with that.”

"I'm surprised she talked you into coming out to the middle of the woods," Tim said. "No lasers here."

"Lies!" Abernathy cried. "Dad has a shit ton of them in the wood shed. In case of the zombie apocalypse. Or you know. To level his furniture."

It was at this moment that Bill called the kids to the kitchen. "Pizza's done hoodlums!"

“Oh, pizza. Be still my heart.” Shy grinned at Abernathy. Pizza and lasers had, after all, been the topic of their first date. And pizza was on offer. Glorious. He followed her to the kitchen, trying not to be too obvious about watching her.

Abby led the way to the kitchen. Bernadine trailed behind them, trying to figure out this Shylock person. Tim led up the rear with Adelaide, grinning at her.

Bill doled out pizza on paper plates. He figured the less dishes they had to do the better. Later Bernadine would help him prepare some of the side dishes for tomorrow's feast and they'd be in the kitchen for some time.

Abby took a huge bite of her pizza and headed back to the living room. "You did good, dad."

"It's from a box," he admitted without an ounce of shame.

Once the others were occupied with their food, Adelaide bumped into Tim’s side and whispered, “I can’t decide if I have spectator’s disgust, or if I’m relieved she’s distracted.” She selected a particularly onion-y looking slice to nurse, thinking it would make a good buffer to stuff her face whenever she had to think about what not to say.

Shy had a special love for pizza that transcended its origin; it didn’t matter if it came out of a freezer box or if it had been lovingly crafted over the course of three days by genuine Italian gourmet chefs who had shunned worldly pleasures to slave over a oven. All pizza was food of the gods. He didn’t say that though, lest Bill think he was some kind of perverted pizza fetishist.

Though, he supposed, it was better he think that than other things, really.

Tim continued beaming happily at Adelaide and nibbled on his own slice delicately, like he wasn't a proper north country boy. Bill noticed the smarmy looks between them, but he smirked rather than say anything and took his own slice of pizza, whistling as he made his way out of the kitchen.

Bernadine had a momentary thought, like she was a commentator at a sports function and she was the only one who could see everything that was going on. She ate her pizza quietly, leaning against the living room wall. It was weird, but very nice to have everyone home.

Abby finished her slice quickly and debated getting a second. Shy had seen her eat before on several occasions; he was prepared for the way she shoved her face full of food like a heathen. "Want seconds?" she asked before getting up. That way at least she could pretend to be a decent girlfriend and not just a hungry pig.

“Always,” he responded, amused that she’d even ask. He actually rather liked the way she ate-- like a person wanting food, not some prissy little thing taking tiny bites and watching every last imaginary ounce of fat with horror. Food was for survival, yes, but what was the point if you didn’t enjoy it? Might as well eat cardboard. He rose from his seat to join her in the kitchen.

She took a piece and since no one could see them offered it to him to eat from her hand, curled up on the edges to hold it better. It was a little silly and certainly romantic, but every now and again she liked to prove that she was in fact a girl.

Oh dear, he really was a housepet, wasn’t he? He smiled at her and took a bite, moving aside just enough to nuzzle in and rub the side of his face against hers. “You’re exceptionally sweet,” he whispered.

"Don't let anyone else know," she said and took a bite of the same slice herself. "I hope you're not too overwhelmed," she added, nodding toward the living room. She razzed him pretty good, but more to prepare him for meeting the family.

“So far so good?” He grinned, and stole a bit of hanging cheese. “I think I’m starting to understand how you feel when Desi wants her very adult questions answered in front of you.”

"She's an absolute peach," Abernathy said, though if Desdemona were here she'd be blushing terribly and trying not to be overtly affectionate to Shylock. That kind of thing was so embarrassing. "We have a whole weekend to trick them into approval," she added with a wink.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Whole weekend. I can manage that. … right?”

Back in the living room, Addy was starting to feel like just maybe she wanted a replacement pizza slice. But not if it meant interrupting something. She turned and mouthed at Bernadine, Are they making out in there?

Bernadine giggled and shook her head no.

Tim knew that something just went entirely over his head, but he was okay with it for the moment. "Would you like me to get you another piece?" he asked Adelaide. Since she was the guest he was going to be nice and offer. Bernadine on the other hand could go get it herself.

“Thank you. Would you like a hand?” She stood, and turned to Bernadine properly rather than asking her questions over her shoulder. “More, B? Bill?” No need for every last one of them to go barging in on the pair in the kitchen.

"I'm good," Bill replied, to which Bernadine nodded in agreement. "Thanks though," she added for both of them.

Tim shrugged and shuffled into the kitchen to find Abernathy feeding her boyfriend pizza. "Now that's a picture I could have lived without."

Abernathy flushed and stuffed the rest of the slice into her mouth to prevent her from saying anything nasty to Tim for his interruption.

Maybe it wasn’t just his sister. Maybe it was some universal built-in sibling alarm that went off any time you thought you were safe from them. Or maybe they were just cursed to not have a second alone together this entire weekend. “Sorry,” he muttered, embarrassed more for Abernathy than for himself.

Abernathy picked up a piece of pizza and proceeded to slap her brother on the side of the face with it. He spluttered in response, entirely lost for words and not sure how to feel until he started to laugh.

Abernathy laughed with him and then dug out some paper towels so he could wipe the cheesy mess from his stubble. "Asshat."

"Shitsticks," he replied but took the paper towel gratefully and cleaned himself up. "You're eating that piece."

"Oh hell no. It's got your man stubble in it now."

Shy couldn’t help but laugh as well, at first shocked, but soon amused once it appeared Tim wasn’t going to take offense to being foodslapped.

Upon hearing this commotion from the living room, however, Adelaide was glad not to have joined the group in the kitchen. She looked at Bernadine out of the corner of her eye, curious and suspicious. “... What the fuck is going on in there?”

Bernadine hadn't been looking and she wasn't about to spy on the recent insanity. She shrugged and offered Adelaide a smile. "It's better we don't know." Then she leaned in conspiratorially. "I had to tell the emo kid I was Abernathy."

Bill was still sitting back, but his hearing was good enough to pick up this tidbit. He knew what his daughters had done and they'd had their disagreements about it. He didn't want to pry because he knew Bernadine was capable enough to keep an eye out for trouble. But their actions had repercussions rippling into the future and even Bernadine wasn't skilled enough to see them yet. He kept his own opinion at the moment; no use spoiling their fun with some fatherly disapproval.

Adelaide smirked at Bernadine’s confession, endlessly amused at the idea of the kid being so enamoured of her, and thinking that she was her own sister. Any long-reaching consequences of such a simple little switch hadn’t quite occurred to her yet; like if B actually ever decided she liked him... and what an explanation that would be. For now though, they were all happily skating along the surface of what they were pulling off.

Eyeing off the now-contaminated slice of pizza, Shy declared, “Well, I’m not eating it. I don’t love pizza that much.”

Abernathy laughed. "Now that's saying something."

Timmy snatched the piece of pizza and took a giant bite. "There, happy?" Then he started laughing again and almost had to spit out the pizza instead of choking on it. "It's got that slapped in man goodness."

To which Abernathy gagged and set down her own piece of pizza. "That's... That's just... I can't even." Then she started laughing again and had to hold on to Shy not to just fall over on the floor in a fit of giggles.

“That little certain something. Probably the ‘secret ingredient’ that place near the science labs is always going on about,” he teased. “Here I thought it was gym socks.”

Then Abernathy was gagging again, gripping him harder. "Stop. Uncle!" she cried and leaned her head on his stomach. "You're going to kill me. I'm gonna hurl."

Tim made loud, happy nomming noises as he continued to eat the "man" pizza. "It's so good. Squishy and melty and manly."

“Well, hurl over here. No need to wreck the rest of the pizza.” Shy wrapped an arm around Abernathy’s head and pulled her around in a headlock so that she couldn’t spoil the food if she did choose to barf everywhere.

It was at this point that Adelaide’s curiosity had gotten the best of her, and she leaned up against the doorframe, not at all sure what was happening in front of her. “What are you weirdos doing?”

Tim was just leaning in toward Abernathy's head to make eating faces at her and then Adelaide was standing in the doorway and eyeing them. "We're uh... AB was having a little..."

"They're torturing me with man pizza!"

"You started it," Tim pointed out as he stood up straight and wiped his pizza hands off on the back of his pants. "Want another piece?" he asked her with a bright grin.

Abernathy wrestled out of Shy's grip and smoothed her shirt out. "I'm done. No more pizza."

"I wasn't asking you."

Addy was unconvinced. “Man pizza?” Was that as awful and disgusting as it sounded? Judging from Abernathy’s reaction... “What did you do to it?”

"I ate the piece she slapped me with," Tim supplied. "I can have her slap me again if you want?"

“Yeah... I might just go with normal pizza if that’s okay with you.” Did everyone get a little more insane since Bernadine had moved to Dresden? “You can explain later, I get the feeling if you do it now, I’m not gonna want to eat. Or worse... I will.” Sometimes the most absurd things made her hungry. Like dead baby jokes.

“What could possibly have happened?” Shy asked defensively. “Miss is just being precious,” he teased, squashing Abernathy to the counter in front of the pizza. “You know you want more.”

"Let's not find out," Timmy said while Abernathy started giggling again. He passed her the pizza and leaned against the kitchen counter. "Man-free."

Abernathy snorted. "You know how Addy likes it."

Addy shot her a withering glare. “Keep on that train of thought; see if you ever sleep again.”

“She's just jealous," Tim said faithfully.

"Oh, extremely," Abernathy shot out and pushed back at Shylock idly. She was starting to get the feeling again that there was something more going on between Adelaide and her brother. She couldn't decide if she wanted to stomp it out or let it go. Really, it wasn't any of her business, even if she didn't think it was a good idea.

“Yeah, you’re still in love with me,” she teased Abernathy. “Should have known.” She crammed down the rest of the pizza, and left the kitchen with a smug expression at the questioning look Shy was giving AB.

"I should have warned you, you have competition." Abernathy smirked and rolled her eyes. "Though if you're into girl fights we could probably work something out." She bumped him with her shoulder.

Tim winced as if this wasn't anything he wanted to hear. "I'll leave you to it," he said and followed Adelaide out to the living room.

“You know how I love a girlfight,” he said after it was just the two of them in the kitchen again. “Still waiting to see you take down Marigold. I get my hopes up every time we walk into the cafeteria.” He grinned into the top of her hair and reached around her to steal another piece of pizza. “All right, back into the fray.” As much as he liked the idea of staying in the kitchen and snuggling up to her in full view of pizza, it wasn’t quite what this weekend was supposed to be about.

She followed him reluctantly back to the living room. She liked being close to him physically, but she hated doing so in front of other people. Especially her family. The whole idea was just foreign to her. She plunked down next to him and tried to wipe the look of disappointment from her face.

Timmy smirked at them. "Dad, you don't want to know what kind of things I walked in on in that kitchen."

"S'long as they weren't sexually abusing the vegetables I will turn a blind eye."

To which all three of his children groaned.

“There’s always tomorrow,” Adelaide commented softly, smirk in place. She was always amused by Bill’s attitude towards things. He was more like a cool teacher than a dad. “Do we have plans for tonight?” There was always the chance the answer was no, and she could try and sneak out to the garage with Tim and stuff him full of Fizzing Whizbees. Before leaving school for the holiday, she’d texted him with a tease about showing him something awesome.

Of course, Timmy had all kinds of ideas about awesome things she could show him, but he couldn't even begin to venture a guess what she really had in mind. "Do we?" he asked his sisters.

Bernadine shrugged. Abernathy smiled. "We were thinking about trying you to a tree outside."

"Now girls. As much fun as it is to torture your brother, we have guests. You should at least offer them the first shot at the rope."

Tim frowned at his father. "Ha. Ha."

Adelaide smirked. “Really? A tree? I think the picnic table would offer you far better immobilization.” Oh, the things one learned when hazing new members of the Quodpot team.

Shy raised an eyebrow. “My knots aren’t that great. Probably better to let the girls have at first.”

"You'd better go first if Timmy here is going to have a fighting chance," Abernathy said with a very sly smirk at Shylock. Oh yes, the things she could do with a bit of rope.

"I'll pass," Tim interjected before Abernathy could suggest any other horrible things. "How about we play cards?"

Abernathy mouthed a dirty word at him, but she got up and riffled through the drawers to find a deck of cards.

"Should probably get peeling potatoes," Bill announced and moved for the kitchen. He put up a hand when Bernadine got up to follow him. "I'm perfectly capable of handling a peeler," he said smartly, thinking it would be good for his youngest daughter to spend some time with other people.

“Quit trying to escape, B. We’re not gonna make you take off your clothes, I swear.” Addy couldn’t speak for the others, but she absolutely could not play Strip totally sober. And even then, she usually chucked her cards in the pile and stalked out of the game before underwear was revealed. “What are we playing, actually?”

Shylock made absolutely no comment on the matter of making Bernadine take off her clothes and decided it best to pretend he hadn’t heard the comment at all, just looking over to Abernathy in her search for cards.

"Too many people I'm related to in the room for strip poker," she pointed out to Adelaide. "We can play five man war."

"Spoooooooooooons," Timmy said at this suggestion.

"Absolutely not."

"Asshole?" said Bernadine and she looked a little sheepish about swearing, even if it was a valid card game. "No drinks, but we can still play it."

"We have drinks, but if we drink them tonight we won't have any tomorrow," Timmy said with a little shrug.

“There might not be five of us tomorrow either, if there’s drinking tonight.” Addy could just imagine herself and Abernathy getting into it over something like a card game. “Could play Spank?”

Shy shook his head. “No, Abby hits too hard. I’d like to go home in one piece.”

Abernathy's face fell into a spectacular grimace as her father called from the kitchen: "I've heard that about her."

"Welp," Timmy said after an excruciatingly long pause. "Might as well get out the dining room table. Shy, why don't you come lend me a hand in the garage?" He got up and moved outside. Bill had made their dining room table collapsible and easy to maneuver into the house. Over the years he'd made most of the furniture in their home.

Bernadine smiled politely at her sister as soon as the boys were gone. "He seems... Just your type." Not that he wasn't nice, but it wasn't the first word Bernadine would use to describe Shylock.

“He can’t be that much her type if she uses him for a punching bag... actually, that would make him exactly her type.” Congratulations, maybe? She smirked anyway. “Are we being embarrassing and irritating enough, or should we switch it up a notch?” The last part was directed at Bernadine, of course. With Bill retired to the kitchen, they were really letting down the team on the amount of humiliation that could be dealt out.

Abernathy wasn't entirely sure what to make of Bernadine's comment. Adelaide's however was familiar territory. "He takes punches better than you," she retorted.

“I bet he takes a lot better than me.” She pulled a face. “I wouldn’t take too kindly to you making me your bitch.”

Speaking of... “You don’t really let them tie you up?” Shy asked Tim as they maneuvered the table through the door.

Tim laughed easily and wheeled a drawer out of the way. "As if they could." And then he paused. "Well. Abby might. She's a bruiser."

“Yeah. I wouldn’t trust her not to do some damage.” Not that he thought she was malicious, just... so much stronger than she looked. And she’d probably punish for struggling-- definitely for any escape attempts.

Tim wasn't sure what to make of this conversation. Obviously Shy liked his sister, why else would he come home with her? But clearly he'd seen the scary side of her too. "You've got to be either very strong or some kind of masochist," he said in awe. "But I'll tell you truly, if you win her heart she'll be loyal to the end." Which was his way of saying his sister was worth the trouble.

He smiled, and said with complete honesty, “I’d really like that.” Then, feeling slightly embarrassed, focused his attention completely on the table. “So, um. How am I going to not dent the wall?”

"If we just lift straight up and table it over the workbench we can flip it again and get it through the door. The legs were held underneath by straps Bill had made; they could be attached easily once the table was in the other room. Tim maneuvered himself to one end and on the count of three lifted.

That seemed to be the most awkward part of the undertaking; after that it was a fairly straightforward matter to get the table back into the living room. Once there, it was not immediately apparent whether or not a card game had been decided on... as it seemed Bernadine was refereeing a particularly strange interaction between the other girls, who were throwing cards at each other.

"It's all fun and games until someone gets a papercut in the eye," Tim suggested as they set the table down. If Shy wasn't there they could have Abby or Addy use magic to rearrange the furniture quickly, but Bill rarely asked his daughter for such help. They'd learned how to get by without it. There was enough room to push the furniture to the walls and set the table up, which Tim had together before any of the girls could offer to help.

The chairs were still in the garage and Tim left for them before commenting on the Adelaide-Abernathy situation.

“If you papercut me in the eye, I’ll punch you in the left tit,” Addy threatened Abernathy once Tim was out of earshot.

Shy couldn’t help himself at that point, and asked, “Why the left one?”

"She's intimidated by the right one," Abernathy replied and stopped throwing cards. She started picking up the cards nearest her on the floor and started setting them on the table while Tim streamed back and forth with chairs.

“It’s got teeth,” the other girl agreed. “You’d best keep away from it. Maybe both of them. It could get aggressive if it feels its pal is in danger. Take your entire hand off.”

He just blinked at that. “... right.” He found both of them to be perfectly lovely, friendly sorts of things, but that was absolutely nobody’s business. Especially not with the given company.

Abernathy might have died of embarrassment, but she knew how very much Shy liked her boobs. She might have made a jab at Adelaide that at least she had some, but she was trying to be nice. "Why don't you make yourself useful and help me pick up this mess we made?" Then she ducked beneath the table again and found some cards all the way under the couch.

Adelaide followed her to the floor, crawling around on her hands and knees to find cards in places that they couldn’t have possibly thrown them. It was entirely likely that they’d start playing to find that they were using parts of three different decks. Depending on the game, that could be amazingly fun, or never-endingly exhausting, and the little part inside of her that embraced chaos was dying to find out which.

“Pick a game, B. The rest of us will never agree on anything.”

Continued here.

Creeping in the Library pt. 2

2011-10-29T03:49:50Z

Who: Abernathy Ford, Shylock Wilson
When: October 28th
Where: Burnham University Library, the road to Pleasantview, Shy's house
What: A dashing rescue, an encounter with a villain, a misunderstanding, and then a happy ending. Part two (no seriously, fuck the post size limit)
Rating: NSFW

Continued from here.

"Unless you want to end up in a guard rail I will humbly ask you to hold the nibbles until we're safely parked." She kept her eyes on the on the road though the temptation to turn and give him a good kiss was overwhelming. She was entirely too relieved that his brother had pulled them over, though that was still a nerve wracking situation. "As for the uniform fetish. You're just going to have to find out for yourself..."

“I bet Halloween’s your favorite holiday,” he said with a giant grin, rubbing his face on her shoulder on his way to backing off and letting her drive. He settled back into the passenger seat, satisfied at least that he could look at her all he liked out of the corner of his eye now that he wasn’t driving, and pointed out that she had absolutely no idea where they were headed.

"One of my favorites," she replied. "I'm a big fan of Arbor day." Then she smirked at him, flicking her eyes to him momentarily. "You could help," she shot back at him and kept driving straight until he told her where to go.

He smirked right back. “Right at the next set of lights, then straight until the cafe with the holiday lights. Then left. See, very helpful.” He liked Pleasantview Cafe’s oddball decorations. They were always out of season, but it made the place stick out and very easy to find.

She followed his instructions and turned left at the cafe. "I might need to get a GPS," she teased. Then she turned to smile at him properly at a stop sign. "Though it wouldn't be nearly as cute." Then she smacked him in the belly and pulled through the sign before he could retaliate. "Which one is yours?"

“Oof! Hey. Mean.” He pouted and rubbed his belly, though he liked the abuse. She did it with a smile and hadn’t hit too hard. “White boards, dopey-looking tree out front. Next to a corner house. When you pull up I’m gonna bite you.”

"Don't you even dare," she threatened and slowed up in front of a house that had white boards and a dopey-looking tree. "This it?"

“Oh, I will dare,” he threatened back. “I will dare so hard. Yes, this is it. You can kill the engine and prepare for your biting.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned across then, despite having told her she could prepare, and put his face in her neck for a quick nuzzle and nibble before throwing open his door and attempting to escape before she could whack him again.

"You're dead," she yelled and parked the car in the driveway. She tried to jump out before she unbuckled and was pulled back into her seat. "Damn it." She unbuckled and jumped out with the keys in her hand to dash around the car. "You little fucker," she challenged rather loudly and chased him toward the front door.

Shy squealed in mock terror, and then fled towards the side fence once he realised she was still holding the keys-- making the front door a trap. “You had it coming!” He yelled as he crashed into the fence. There was no way he was getting over it without getting caught, so he turned to face her. “All right, come at me!”

She followed him to the fence and squished into him. "You're going to end up with bite marks and hickeys if you keep this behavior up," she threatened and blew a raspberry on his neck before pushing off him and heading back toward the porch with a giggle. "Don't want to horrify your neighbors too much," she said over her shoulder.

“I can live with bite marks and hickeys! Can you?” He watched her go for a moment, just admiring the view, before running up behind her and catching her around the waist to throw over his shoulder. “I have you now, mwahaha!” He crowed victoriously, marching them to the door.

She'd never been manhandled quite that way before. "I am not your cave bitch," she said and pounded on his back in exact opposition to that statement.

“I wouldn’t even suggest it,” he harrumphed, smacking her butt. “That’s a spank for you.” Once at the door, he turned around so that she was facing it. “It’s the key with the red tag. I’ll keep a lookout for well-intentioned rescuers.”

She huffed at the smack to her butt, mostly because she didn't want to admit to enjoying it. "I owe you one," she commented and then searched for the right key before slipping it into the door and twisting the lock from her awkward position. "Do me a favor and back in slowly. Or maybe just... You know... Put me down."

“I’ll put you down when I’m good and ready,” he promised, turning around carefully so he could bring her inside without smacking her around the door. The front of the house opened immediately into the living room, and he turned her about to give her a terrible, spinning view of the room. “Welcome! If you ask really nicely and promise not to punch me in the nuts, I’ll put you on the couch.”

"If you don't put me down I'm going to puke on your ass," she threatened and then reached down and gave him a good goose.

“That’s not asking nicely. Not at all.” He moved away from the couch, Abby still on his shoulder. “Well, that could be considered nice,” he added, wiggling underneath her. “C’mon, play with me. Ask me to put you down or I’ll think you like me doing this. And then I’ll fall in a pile on the floor because, seriously, there is a whole person on my shoulder.”

"You are manipulating me emotionally and I am a very stubborn person. And man up. You're the one who picked me up!" But then she squeezed his butt again. "I will squeeze you all you like if you put me down," she said sweetly.

“Say please,” he demanded. He could be quite stubborn himself, even if he was this close to relenting. The promise of being squeezed more was a good inducement to give in.

She slapped his ass rather hard to that bit. "Are we going to struggle around to figure out who's more stubborn?" she asked, refusing to give in just yet. Let him wander around the house with her on his shoulder. He was the one who picked her up.

He jumped a bit at the harder smack. “Argh! I’m going to put you down. But not because you ‘win’ or anything, you’re just heavy.” He looked at the couch. Not there; he was only going to put her down there if she asked nicely, and she didn’t. He’d have to put her somewhere absurd.

He started wandering through the house, his grip on her slipping a little more with every step. Kitchen counter was out, it was too close to the knives. Running out of options, he stumbled over to the table and laid her out. “Damn, kidnapping is harder than it looks.”

As soon as she was down she crossed her arms over her chest. "You called me heavy.” That wasn't something she ordinarily got up in arms about, but coming from Shy it was a bit insulting. "No more tickle and slaps for you. And certainly no kisses."

“I didn’t say you were fat; I said you were heavy-- and you are!” He should have realised that wasn’t helping. “You try dragging around an entire person.” He put his hands either side of her and pouted. “It’s not my fault if you usually date weightlifters.”

She raised an eyebrow at him and frowned expertly. "I don't usually date," she replied tartly. "And I am almost never manhandled."

“You liked it,” he challenged back. “I think you want me to do it again.”

"You do it and I'm stealing your car, driving back to campus, and leaving your ass here."

He shrugged. “Not my car,” as if that was actually the issue at hand. He frowned and pulled back, rubbing the back of his head. That pissed-off expression was so perfect on her, but he didn’t like being the cause of it.

She huffed and slumped as she sat up, her shoulders and head rolling forward. "I just don't even know what to do with you." She pushed off the table and stood before him, right up in his personal bubble. "I can't decide if I want to slap you or kiss you. Or better yet, run away screaming and never look back." Though she didn't want to do that. Her brain told her she probably should, but her heart was already twisted up into stupid knots.

He looked down at her mournfully, cupping her face gently with his fingertips light on the soft skin of her neck. “I’d rather you didn’t. I’m sorry.”

She pushed at him idly with her hands and then pulled him back by his shirt. "Oh you don't have to apologize. You just dropped me on a table. At least you didn't fart on me. I'd have already left if you'd done that." She leaned up to kiss the underside his chin, smiling into his stubble. "We're both horrible shits."

“I promise to never fart on you,” he said, lips curling into a relieved grin when she kissed him. “On purpose, anyway.” He wrapped his arms around her, but this time too high to pick her up and throw her around. She could feel secure about being in control of her own movements. “I’m making a real good impression today, huh?”

"I wouldn't worry too much about impressions," she said leaning against him. "Mine always end up being wrong anyway. Well, usually." She shrugged in his embrace. "I've decided to throw caution to the wind and like you anyway."

“You make me sound like a terrible idea. I’m going to get a complex.” He honestly hadn’t thought himself so awfully offensive. “I’ll behave myself.”

She blinked her eyes shut. "You're not. I don't want you to think like that." She reached up and cupped his cheek to place a kiss on his lips. She sighed and dropped her head to his chest, squeezing him close in a serious hug.

He smiled into the top of her head and squeezed her back. “I don’t mind being a bad idea, so long as I’m a bad idea you’re having,” he murmured into her hair, laughing a little. “I’ll just try and keep my own bad ideas to a minimum.”

"I don't want to stifle your creativity," she mumbled into his shirt. Then she pulled away and took his hand. "Give me the grand tour."

“More like you want to see me make an ass of myself,” he said playfully, pulling her to his side. “Well, this is the combination dining room-kidnap landing platform. We navigated the Sea of Kitchen and living room. Laundry and backyard that way.” He guided her back through the kitchen towards the front of the house. “Downstairs bathroom, dad’s study, scary little under-the-stairs closet. Bedrooms and another bathroom upstairs. And that’s the house. Ta-da!”

She observed his surroundings keenly, though she knew she wouldn't remember much of it. So long as she knew where the bathroom and kitchen were she'd be okay in this house. "So where's our safe, private make out spot?"

“Anywhere you like. House is empty during the day. And when dad’s home, I’m not sure he’s aware that the rest of the house exists outside of his rooms.” Then he amended that first statement. “Anywhere you like except under the stairs and the garage. There are spiders.”

She pushed at him lightly and frowned at him. "Well, maybe a better question is where is the most clean spot to make out." Then she broke out into giggles. You could tell it was a man-pad, but it wasn't the worst she'd ever been in. At this point she was strictly teasing.

“Oh, well then, the cleanest place in the house would be the laundry, ‘cause we don’t go there unless we absolutely have to.” He giggled at the very idea, teasing, “Want to sit on the dryer?”

"Maybe if you turn it on first," she giggled back. "So... Next cleanest place?"

He thought about it for a second. “All the uncomfortable places. Kitchen, dining room. Couch will be the cleanest you get without an assache.” He blinked. “Oh, that didn’t sound wrong at all...”

"Yeah, I'd prefer our make outs not to end with assaches." She pushed at him and made her way toward the couch to flop down. "Unless you'd prefer the kitchen counter?"

“Can’t,” he said, dropping onto the end of the couch. “The refrigerator would get jealous, seeing as I usually make out with her in there. The couch is good, we’re just friends.”

"Do you have an inappropriate relationship with produce?" And before he could answer: "is this something I should be jealous about?"

He stared at her for a moment. “You’re not going to trick me into saying something about eating you instead so you can hit me. Even I can see this one coming.”

She stared back, equally confounded. "I was not even thinking about that." Her eyes spread wider and she fought the urge to giggle and blush, though both happened until she was trying to hide her face in the back of the couch.

Shy cackled. “Yeah, but now you are.” He pulled her away from the couch cushions to steal a kiss before tilting her head back and mouthing at her neck. “You’ve got such a filthy mind.”

"I've got a filthy..." But then he was sucking on her neck and she didn't even care to argue anymore. She let her fingers play in his hair while his lips slid up and down on her skin. A little moan crawled out of her throat and she almost choked on the sound surprised and scared that it would only prove him right about her filthy mind.

“The filthiest,” he assured her, shifting on the couch to lean over her without crushing all the air out of her lungs. His free hand wandered down her side, greedily taking in her curves before squeezing her thigh and lifting her leg up around the outside of his hip. He bit her gently at the noise she made, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

She flexed her leg enough to pull him even closer. Warmth was curling its way up her body and she felt positively flushed. She twisted her head just enough to get a good nip at his ear before she licked up the curve of his lobe. Her hands reached down to his hemline, wanting to put her fingers on skin. She snuck them up beneath his first shirt to find a second one, then under that one to find another. "How many shirts are you wearing?" she groaned.

“Mm. Fifty,” he decided, breaking away from her neck to start layering kisses up and down the side of her face. “I’m a shirt onion.” He slid his hand back up her side and worked it up under her clothing to run his fingertips over the band of her bra.

She shivered delightedly into that touch and continued fussing with his shirts until she got underneath them all and could run her hands up his sides. She shifted again so that she could kiss his lips, more demanding with her tongue than she'd been yet. Her fingers worked up his back and sides until she managed to move one hand forward and brushed it over a nipple.

He sucked in a sharp breath at that and arched into her, feeling a need to be in contact with her entire body. Even if he was probably squishing her a bit. He moved over her a bit, shifting his weight onto his elbow so he could free up both hands to attempt the Rubik’s Cube of impossibility that was a bra hook. He found himself giggling terribly inappropriately and kissed her harder to try and hide it.

"What's got you so..." But then she felt his hands on her back and she didn't need to ask what had him so giggly. She giggled with him, her laughter vibrating happily along her nerves and setting her more at ease about potentially losing her bra to his couch cushions. "Need help?" she whispered savagely before running her fingers over his nipples again as if to punctuate the point.

“Ffffuuu... No. Yes.” He could be struggling with it forever if she didn’t show some mercy and do it for him. “Pretty please,” he added, nipping at her lips and kissing down her throat. He smoothed his hands down her back and around her waist, out of her way so she could get her bra out of his way.

It took her a minute to get untangled from under his shirts, but she reached back and unclipped the bra for him with a little wink. "Want me to free the ladies or can you manage that on your own?" Then she giggled and pulled his top two shirts up toward his arm pits to encourage him to disrobe a bit more and even the score.

He grabbed at the edges of the shirts she’d pulled up and yanked them off over his head to discard on the floor. His hands immediately sought out her waist again, and he pulled her into him firmly. “Look at you, trying to get me undressed,” he teased, returning his lips to hers as his hands slid back up her body, slowly palming over her bare skin.

She squirmed happily against his hands. "Can you blame me?" she teased back, running her own hands up and down his back as her kisses deepened. She arched into his touches and sighed into his throat as she moved her lips toward his collar.

“I can blame you,” he said, humming blissfully at the feel of her lips on his neck. “Taking advantage of poor innocent me...” He pushed her bra up, gently cupping her breasts and carefully running a thumb over the nipple. A soft squeeze, and then he’d pushed her back into the couch, kissing her ardently.

Another little moan climbed up her throat and pressed against his where her lips sucked on his flesh. One hand slipped down his back to the hem of his pants and toyed with the idea of sliding inside to grab a firm hold of his ass. She kept it at the hem however, running it back and forth from one side to the other. She moved her lips up to his ear and whispered. "If anything, I'm the innocent here."

He grazed his teeth over her neck before pulling back just long enough to look at her and tell her that the things she made him feel weren’t innocent at all, and bunch her shirt up so that he could kiss her collarbone and down into her cleavage. Soon he was laying long, openmouthed kisses all over her chest, shamelessly holding her to him.

Abernathy wasn't feeling anything innocent at the moment. She slid her hand down the back of his pants and squeezed him tight. The warmth that had spread over her body earlier was concentrating below. She'd been to this point before, but her body had never responded to the touch of another with quite so much longing. She wanted him, and damn her head for trying to take it slow. She scratched her free hand up his back with just enough nail to leave thin trails that would fade before her next round of kisses.

He moaned into her skin. “Stop that,” he demanded (albeit unconvincingly), swatting lazily at her hip. His tongue teased at her nipple, gently laving over the flesh before he edged away, abandoning her lovely breasts to trail back up to her mouth with a series of licks and bites and kisses. The hand that had taken to her hip squeezed her gently, roaming down her thigh to her knee and encouraging her to wrap her legs around him.

She ran her nails down his back in response to that and beamed into his lips. "Mhm. You love it." She eagerly wrapped her legs around him at his urging and squeezed him tightly to her. Her lips sought his neck again, her teeth making a little foothold in his skin. She liked the sound of his moaning and wanted to hear it again.

A delighted sound rumbled in his throat and he tried to protest. “No, really. You’ll give me ideas.” He was already having ideas of course, as if he could help himself with her clinging so closely to him. And if she kept rubbing up against him like that it would be plainly obvious. His hands slipped up her legs again; one around and up her back, curling to stroke up her spine, the other brushing up the inside of her thigh, wedged between them.

She purred under his hands. "What kind of ideas?" she whispered at his neck and arched as his hand rolled up her spine. She felt her heart jump as his other hand rolled up inside her thigh. She took both of her hands and grabbed a firm hold of his ass.

Vivid ideas. Dirty ideas. Fun ideas. His hand had traveled the length of her thigh and was now pressing intimately against her, thumb tracing the line of her jeans zipper. He ducked his head to kiss against her ear. “This kind,” he whispered thickly, voice becoming husky with desire.

"That's a good idea," she moaned in response. She caught his lips, darting her tongue into his mouth. She broke the kiss just long enough to catch her breath again as his fingers moved. A tiny "oh," caught in her throat as she gently bit his bottom lip.

He brought his other hand around from behind her back to unbutton her jeans, biting back at her lips as he slowly worked the zipper down. Once her fly was open, he curled his arm back around her waist and tentatively slipped his hand into her pants, gently brushing against her with his fingertips.

Another "oh" escaped her mouth, but it wasn't tiny in the least. She let go of his lips and arched her neck back. Her hands grew more bold in response and she reached into his pants again, one to grab him from behind and another that poked at the hem of his boxers. She wasn't quite brave enough to just reach in and grab a handful, but she was getting there.

He smiled at the loud noise of pleasure, and buried his face in her neck again now that she had exposed it for him. He pressed a hot kiss below her ear, murmuring her name adoringly as he became a little more adventurous in his explorations. His fingers slipped further between her legs, gently but insistently teasing at her, seeking to bring her pleasure.

Her body reacted in ways she didn't expect it would. She want to get rid of her jeans altogether, to urge his fingers deeper. She wiggled a bit and moved her hands so that she could pull on his jeans and maneuver herself to touch him. Her fingers brushed up against his skin, her knuckles dragging along the fabric of his boxers. "Shy," she whispered longingly.

His hips rolled towards her instinctively, breath catching in his throat at her touch. He could only moan in response to her, abandoning words for simple, unspoken sounds of desire. His fingers curled inside her, cautiously pushing forward and deeper with lustful twists and strokes. He was beginning to forget himself, forgetting manners and respectful distance and taking it slow. His focus was Abernathy, and pulling those stifled sounds out of her.

She wrapped those digits around him and began slow, methodical movements. She liked the warmth of his skin, the feel of him in her grasp, and every little sound her fingers elicited from him. She didn't like his jeans band pulling on her wrist at every stroke and she imagined he didn't much like working around hers. "Pants off," she demanded in a husky tone she didn't even recognize as her own.

Shy made a fairly unintelligible sound in response, brain short-circuiting at the forceful command. He stared dumbly down at her hand disappearing down the front of his pants. “Maybe we should move,” he managed after taking a few moments to find his voice again.

She nodded slowly, but she didn't want to take her hands off him. Then the idea that his dad could walk in at any moment had her hand out of his pants and pushing at his chest to get him moving. "Let's go," she said practically dragging him off the couch.

He followed close behind, not needing any more encouragement than the void of her body. Once on his feet he grabbed her close again, pressing a burning kiss to her lips before pushing her towards the stairs with a primal urgency, hands never straying far from her warmth.

At the top of the stairs he passed his arm around her waist again and pulled her up against him, backing her into his bedroom door without any of the gentlemanly behaviour he liked to think he might have exhibited were he not so consumed with lust.

She stumbled backwards into his room and broke her lips away from his just long enough to get her bearings and maneuver them toward his bed. On the way she slipped her jeans down her hips, kicked off her socks and shoes, and shrugged out of her fleece. By the time her ass hit the mattress she was only wearing her cute boyshort briefs and the tank top. She had entirely forgotten about the bra he'd taken off, probably shoved between the cushions of the couch.

She made herself comfortable and moved her index finger to beckon him.

He followed her in an enamoured trance, shedding almost all of his layers behind him until he was at the edge of the mattress before her in only his boxers, bending to hook his arms under her knees to shift her further into the bed. He had definitely kicked over a glass of water on the floor in the process, but it was the least of his concerns. He climbed onto the bed beside her and stole a deep, passionate kiss before yanking her tank top up and over her head.

"Maybe next time we should start up here," she whispered gleefully against his lips. Then she forgot about talking altogether and started exploring his body again, rolling her hands up and down his back, dragging her nails sometimes and using her lips and tongue on his neck and shoulders. She let herself go for the physical pleasure of it, enjoying him too much to think about too fast or too soon.

He made a small sound of agreement at that delightful idea, burying it in her collarbone as that was where he had chosen to begin a slow, determined trail of kisses. He never quite pulled away from one kiss to the next, his lips dragging across her skin leaving only hot breath and the occasional nip in their wake. His fingertips hooked into the elastic of her panties, and he began to peel them down right about as his lips cleared her ribcage and commenced a fresh assault down her stomach.

She arched her hips into his hands, rolling her belly up to meet his lips. Erotically happy noises spilled out of her lips while she tangled her fingers into his hair. She bit the inside of her lip in anticipation. She was already hot; his fingertips and lips streaking across her skin set her on fire.

He couldn’t help but smile at the steady stream of blissful sounds filling his ears, taking them as direct encouragement if not a running commentary on whether or not he was doing as she liked. He pulled away just long enough to tug her briefs down completely, discarding them on the floor by the bed and settle himself between her legs to return to his purpose. His hands coursed over her thighs, gently massaging at the tension of anticipation as he parted them, his lips soon following.

The sounds coming out of her got louder, breathier as his lips made his way up the inside of her thigh. She was embarrassed, turned on, getting wetter and shakier with every new sensation he invoked. "I... Oh..." Whatever thought she had flew out of her mind and she turned her head to the pillow, moaning loudly into it.

He grinned into the kisses up her thigh, gently biting at the flexed tendon quivering by his face. He tempered that with a long, wet lick and finally, mercifully, pressed his lips against her; burying his face in her heat and moving his hands up outside of her hips to hold her tight to his ministrations.

She moved against his hands, just a little squirmy wiggle. She clenched her fists into his sheets, pulling two tight balls under her fingers. She'd never had this experience before and she was glad she waited for Shy. He responded to every little noise she made and the way she tilted her pelvis into him, how she arched her back up and rolled her head onto his pillow. "Yes please," she moaned drawing the vowels out.

You’re welcome? It was where he wanted to be; warm between her thighs, enveloped in her scent and taste. His tongue slid back and forth, seeking out the movements that had her arching in pleasure and bucking into him. He let go of her hips once he thought her comfortable and not likely to shy away in modesty. He brought his left hand up to join his efforts, fingers gently stroking at her sensitive flesh whilst he licked and sucked at her core. The other wandered down her leg again, cupping the underside of her knee and holding her leg off to the side.

Abernathy leaned her head back again, fingers in her mouth as if they could hold back all the delightful noises spilling out of her. She didn't realize how noisy she had the tendency to be, but Shy didn't seem to mind it one bit. "Ah," she cried and then "oh," stretching out long and low. A fuzzy sensation was building beneath, a scalding heat that started to spread out over her body like little tongues of flame until her entire body was sensitive. A tear sprung from the corner of her eye to run down toward her hair. "Shy!" she cried out. "Yes, Shy. Shy." She shivered, her muscles aching as they spasmed beyond her control, entirely the result of Shy's skillful fingers and tongue.

He smiled to himself, gently lapping at her until her quaking ceased. Afterwards, he dropped a smattering of kisses upon her thigh, and shifted to rest his head on her stomach. “I think you liked that,” he teased with a slight smirk.

"I did," she replied breathlessly. She wound her fingers in his hair again, patting him contentedly. "Didn't think I could feel that way," she whispered and sat up just enough to press a kiss to the top of his head and then flop back down again completely sated.

He beamed against her skin and nuzzled against her until her words finally sank in. “Wait, what?” He wriggled up onto his elbows to look at her and see if she was kidding. “Serious?”

She blushed, uncertain of whether or not that was a bad thing. "Yeah," she said, suddenly very shy and self conscious. She wanted to cover her body up as if he hadn't just seen her naked, had her splayed across his sheets and clenching every muscle in pleasure.

“That’s a damn shame,” he said, reaching up to brush the hair back from her face, carefully running his fingers down her jawline. “A crime, even. Your old boyfriends must have been assholes.”

"My old boyfriends never got that far," she blurted out before she could hold it back in. Boys tended to react to a girl's virginity as it were a commodity or a disease. In either case it was never very good. She shied away from his touch and covered his face with her hands as if that would take her words back and erase the fact that he'd seen her naked.

Shy paled a little, mortified that he’d gone and... rushed her into bed like that. He feared he must seem predatory or perverted, and now she was regretting it, pulling away and hiding herself. He shrank back too, suddenly all too aware that he was very much in her personal space, almost naked, and sporting a rather noticeable erection.

“I shouldn’t have,” he apologized weakly. “I’m sorry, that was-- that was very forward of me, I really should have asked. I... I didn’t think.”

"I didn't say no," she said with the tiniest smirk. She reached one hand down to rest on his shoulder. "And I did rather enjoy it." She moved down on his bed so that they were on the same level and she could look him in his face. "I'm sorry. Maybe I should have told you that I'm not very experienced." She certainly hadn't planned on going this far this soon, but now that she had she wasn't about to start moving backwards.

“That’s really nobody’s business but your own,” he said, brows meeting in concern. He tried not to feel so odd about the revelation, but he was a little disturbed. He reached up to his shoulder and covered her hand with his own. “I just, I’m sorry. I got carried away.” It wasn’t that her being a virgin was a disgusting turn-off, or anything like that. He just found the concept utterly terrifying.

She frowned at him. "So now you're going to pretend this never happened and stopped touching me." She pushed at his shoulder, knocking his hand off the top of hers. "If I wasn't ready I would have stopped you. I'm not the kind of girl you have to be careful with. I'll let you know if you've gone too far." But she was worried that maybe he wouldn't try to go too far again. She'd be having to make the first moves until she insisted that he take her virginity. And god forbid he get squeamish about that...

“Well you’re not very easy to read,” he pointed out defensively. Earlier she’d threatened to run away screaming, hadn’t she? And when had he said he would stop touching her? He grabbed her hand back and yanked her closer, so they were properly face to face. “What, do you like it when I’m being a demanding prick? Thinking of you naked instead of how much I like you as a person?” Any guy could chase her around to fuck her, he wanted her to see she meant more to him than that.

"Would you like me if I was?" Then she was trying to decide if she wanted to slap him or kiss him. "I dunno. Can you balance it? Think of me naked and like me as a person?" She was getting worried that they'd be the kind of couple that was either fighting or fucking. Because that seemed to be the direction they were heading in.

He smiled and went to kiss her, then realized that she probably wouldn’t want to taste herself on him, and settled for resting his forehead against hers. “It’s not a polar decision, Abby, I like you as a person whether or not I’m thinking of you naked. It’s just hard to think of anything else when you are.” It was hard to think about her as that wickedly funny, sarcastic, playful woman when certain parts of his brain were shutting down to focus on the things he’d like to do to her.

And again she found herself not knowing what to do with this boy. He confounded the hell out of her. "Maybe I should put my clothes back on?" she asked shyly. It was a weird olive branch to hand out, maybe more for herself than it was for him.

He looked down her body again, hand trailing down over her curves to sneak a grab at her ass before she got up and out of reach. “If you like,” he conceded finally. He really enjoyed having her naked beside him, but understood she might feel more comfortable if she were dressed. “But I’m not closing my eyes.”

She got up and found her panties discard near the foot of the bed. She slipped them on without looking back at him to confirm that he wasn't closing his eyes. She was already embarrassed enough. She found her tank top and slid it on, deciding that was enough clothes to feel like a human being again and not enough to turn his dirty mind off entirely. She slipped back into bed beside him and curled her arm around his waist. "Did you enjoy the view?"

“I certainly did.” There was something to be said for the appeal of her scanties. Officially, they hid everything. And yet, they hid absolutely nothing. His dirty mind was definitely not chased away. “Do you feel better?”

"I do," she admitted and then snuggled even closer to him. She leaned down to kiss him, not thinking that he'd just been licking her. There was a bit of a tangy flavor on her lips and she smirked at him. "Is that what I taste like?" She giggled and kissed his neck.

“I guess it is,” he teased. “Or at least, how you taste to me.” He could feel her lips on his neck through the rumble of his laughter. “Do you want me to go brush my teeth?”

"It's not that weird," she replied on his neck, still kissing happily. Then she snaked her hand around his waist to drum her fingers on his hip, moving them closer and closer to this erection, which surprised her a bit. She didn't think that he'd still be excited after their little argument.

He curled his arms around her, gently squeezing her through her underwear. He agreed about the taste; it wasn’t that weird, he liked it because it was her. He decided not to say that out loud though, for fear of making her self-conscious again. His fingers traced tiny patterns up her back, long lines and tight little swirls as though he were painting and she was his canvas. “On the bright side,” he said finally, grinning. “You feel a lot more relaxed than before.”

She slapped his hip in mock irritation. "I should probably say thank you, but I'm just tempted to spank you."

“That’s very kinky of you,” he teased. “Though I shouldn’t be surprised, I think you offered on our first date. Right?” He leaned in close to bite her earlobe. “There’s a scary tiny dominatrix in you; I should have picked it when you took such delight in killing me at laser tag.”

"Does that terrify or excite you?" she asked before she clamped her teeth down a bit harder on his neck. Then she giggled because she couldn't even take herself seriously. There probably was a tiny dominatrix in there somewhere, but she'd let it come out in the moment. "Want me to spank you?" she asked with another giggle and then slapped lightly at his ass.

He jumped a little at the bite, and then a lot at the slap. “It’s excitingly terrifying. Or terrifyingly exciting. And somewhat terrifyingly terrifying.” He was aware that he was making little sense, but less aware of that than he was of the fact that Abernathy had her hands all over him. “I’ll settle for a cuddle,” he offered meekly.

"Pussy," she teased, but then squeezed up tight against him, wrapping her arms around his back so that she wouldn't be tempted to slap his ass again.

“Self-preserving,” he corrected her, trying not to take too much delight in the fact that she was right up on him but unable to help himself from arching into her some. “I’m not convinced you know your own strength. What if you break me? That would be terribly embarrassing, and how would you explain that to people?”

“I'd make a very public apology. And then I'd have to date a muscle builder. Or a shot-putter." She narrowed her eyes and smirked at him. "You know, a man who can handle me." She reached down and squeezed his ass as if to make her point.

Okay, she definitely knew he was jumpy about her grabbing his ass, and was doing it purposely. After his reflexive reaction was to buck into her, he pulled away with a scowl setting his hands around her waist to turn her over roughly. “I’m going to have to spoon you if you keep doing that, miss.”

"You're no fun," she teased and then she wiggled her ass against him purposely. She had a feeling that once she lost her virginity this boy was going to be on 24 hour booty call.

The noise he made at that was somewhere between a moan and a whimper. “You’re the worst.” He hauled her up a bit further up the bed and pulled the back of her top up to start biting between her shoulders while his hands fitted themselves to the small of her back, kneading at the muscle and flesh.

"You're the best," she replied and made happy little noises at the bites and the back massage. He was taking her teasing terribly well and she was properly in the mood to reciprocate the pleasure. She reached down in between their bodies and started to pull at the hem of his boxers. She wasn't at the right angle to get her hand in, but she was very close.

“Remember you said that the next time you’re mad at me,” he grunted into a mouthful of her skin. He could feel her tugging at the band of his boxers, and, not entirely convinced she wasn’t up to some devious torture plot, warned her, “If you snap that back on me I’m putting you on the floor.”

She took this opportunity to twist around and face him, plunging her hand into his boxers and grasping him. "No snapping, unless you're into that kind of thing," she whispered before she licked at his ear lobe. "I think you kind of... Woke a sleeping beast." Then she giggled as she started to stroke him easily.

“Jesus fucking christ!” He gasped, thrusting into her hand and grabbing hold of her rather forcefully. That movement had been entirely unexpected and caught him completely off guard. Was he dating a crazy sex ninja?

… was that the best thing ever? “Some kind of beast, anyway,” he squeaked.

She grinned at him, which was about as much admission as she'd give him that she kind of liked it when he was forceful. She leaned in to capture his lips with hers as she curled her fingers tight and slid them up and down his length. "Does that make you the beauty?" She giggled again and moved her lips to his neck, nibbling gently as she moved along his skin toward his collarbone.

He was far too caught up in her attentions to make some smartass remark in return. “It makes me whatever you want me to be,” was the best he could manage. He reached down momentarily, pushing his boxers down just far enough that they weren’t in the way (because even existing in a state where he could only feel the parts of him that were attached to parts of her, he knew that this could potentially end up awkwardly messy).

His hands returned to her immediately, squeezing her to him tightly and a bit haphazardly, too distracted to focus completely on where exactly he held her.

She liked this reckless abandon her touching caused. She starting varying the speed of her hand while her other hand cupped his cheek. "You be you," she replied happily in between kisses. "That's what I want." Then she grinned, licking up his neck to his ear. "I want you," she added full of hot breath and longing.

Her voice in his ear, hot and low and sensual, that almost had him over the edge already. He abandoned his hold on her to tangle a hand in her hair and grasp her shoulder, pulling her up to kiss her desperately. He breathed her in, biting at her lips and tongue and smothering a loud moan into her. “God, I want you,” he growled lowly.

Which was about when she realized that getting a boy this hot and bothered was like playing with fire and gasoline. And she decided that so long as it was this boy she was more than happy to deal with the burns. She moaned at that sentiment, rolling her hips toward him in response. She moved her hand faster inside his shorts, demanding and matching his thrusts.

He continued to hold her to a hot, bitey kiss, trying not to pull her hair as he did so. The other hand snaked down to join hers-- not that she seemed to need any guidance at all. He covered her hand with his own, warning her in a ragged tone that he was about to come, just in case she wanted to avoid the mess.

She appreciated the warning, but she wanted to feel him in that moment, no matter how messy. The feel of his hand over hers, hot flesh on both sides. She wanted him touching her again, or maybe just to climb on top of him and rub against him for awhile. "Touch me," she pleaded quietly.

He wanted nothing more than to oblige, hand hastily fighting its way out of his boxers to find home between her legs. He pressed up against her panties, fingers clumsily working around fabric to slide in over her leg. It was much less elegant than before, but much more convenient, and faster. His fingers coursed slickly over her flesh, and he rubbed at her with intense need.

She almost told him to rip her panties, but she was thinking about how awkward it would be to ride home without any of her underthings on. She started moaning again, deep, hot sounds filling the space between her lips and his neck where she was littering desperate kisses. "Shy," she whispered as he found a particularly sensitive spot to work. She curled her hand around as she moved it upwards, curling back down again to add a different sensation to the mix.

A strangled moan tore itself from his throat as he came, every last muscle tensing momentarily in his all-encompassing bliss. He thrust a finger deep within her, curling against her body’s resistance. He ignored the pull of her panties over his knuckles, shamelessly stroking against the damp fabric and teasing at her clitoris again with his thumb. “Abernathy, you are a monster,” he gasped.

"Mmm," she moaned happily. She didn't mind being called out on it when he was still finger deep inside and eliciting such delightful sensations from her body. "You love it," she challenged and slowly removed her sticky hand from his shorts. She wasn't sure what to do with her hand and showed it to him with a blissful and goofy grin.

“I can’t even pretend not to,” he sighed, looking about lazily for tissues or something. Unable to see any closer than a box across the room, he untangled his hand from her hair and wiped her hand on the outside of his shorts. He left her to deal with the finer clean up around her fingers, shifting onto his side and pulling his hand out of her underpants to tug them down around her thighs and give him a much better angle to work from.

She managed to wipe most of it off with his shorts. "You don't have to keep..." she shivered delightedly and moaned. "Have to keep..." she tried finding her train of thought again, but it was gone. She was rocking into his hand and sucking on his chest, adding a little bite when he hit that spot just a little to the left.

“Have to keep...?” He teased, lazily flickering his fingers inside her. He was definitely not as on top of things as he was before, but then he was fighting off a sleepy, post-orgasmic haze. “Were you going to tell me to leave the house with the oven still on?”

"What?" she asked in a hazy tone. "I don't even know." She moved against him so he wouldn't have to do all the work. She'd read once that boys got tired after sex, but girls were energized by it. She was feeling it now and intensified her kisses, squeezing her hands around his buttocks again.

“Mmm, yes. Kisses is good. More of that please.” He was grateful for her hips rocking into his hand; he’d sort of drifted off into long, slow strokes, remembering occasionally to press deeply into her and force pressure against her resisting muscles. He’d lost the frenzied urgency of earlier, now simply lingering in her warmth.

She sighed into him. "Honey. I'm good. Really." She put her hand down against his and slowed her hips to a stop. Then she grinned at him, licking his lips teasingly. "We'll nap and then you can do whatever you want to me later."

He made a grateful sound, nuzzling into her neck sleepily. Nap and more later? He had the best girlfriend ever.

Creeping in the Library pt. 1

2011-10-29T03:48:34Z

Trying Something New

2011-10-18T07:56:48Z

Who: Anastas and Diana
When: Evening, October 17th
Where: A walk through Pleasantview
What: Anastas and Diana have a second date.
Rating: SFW

"Evening," he said quietly taking her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. He might not have the English for it, but the way he looked at her indicated that he approved of her dress this evening.

"Good evening," she replied leaning in to kiss his cheek.

"A walk is okay?" he asked gently. He couldn't launch into why he wanted to take her on a walk for this date, other than that his physical therapist strongly encouraged it to strengthen his leg muscles. He hadn't climbed on a broom since the overdose and he was afraid he didn't have the agility to hold on. This was all a part of getting back into decent physical condition.

Diana stepped to the wall to put on her coat and curled her hand around his arm. "A walk would be lovely." A bit brisk in this weather, but still enjoyable and something out of the ordinary.

"Leif taught new words," Stas said as they started to amble away from the dorms toward downtown Pleasantview. He could explain at least some of the things he hadn't been able to on their first date. Much of what Leif translated was written down in Cyrillic to English phonics. He was well prepared.

Town square was quiet this evening, not terribly surprising for the sleepy little town. Most people we're off the streets by 7 or 8. "That's great," Diana replied.

"I have want to explain about first date."

She squeezed his arm where her hand rested. "I understand."

He looked at her like she was the only woman who ever actually tried to understand. "I not the best man. I have much baggage."

Diana took a little breath. She hadn't thought very much about Shy since Nadja first suggested the crazy double date. She didn't want to bring him up now, but Stas was sharing and she wanted to reciprocate. "I have some baggage too."

Stas closed his eyes for a moment and stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. "You too sweet to messing up with me."

"Baby, you hardly know me." Diana reached up and cupped his face with both of her hands. "It's too soon to even worry about that. I want to get to know you more, to learn all about you. Then we can decide if we're messing up together or not."

A majority of what she said flew over his head, but the sentiment was obvious. He leaned in to kiss her as if in response to her assurances.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, made a delighted little noise when his arms found their way around her waist. She couldn't feel the cold when she was pressed up against his body and she certainly didn't care who saw her kissing that awkward Russian boy in the middle of the sidewalk.

She didn't really know him, but his kisses were both exciting and soothing. Contradictory really and she couldn't figure out how he managed to do it. He was a puzzle, but the more the language barrier came down the more she could decipher; eventually she'd have enough pieces in place to decide if Stas was worth opening her heart again. For now at least he was a welcome distraction.

Stas liked this girl. She was perfectly open, easy to read. She laid out simple expectations and he didn't feel as if he was standing on shifting gravel. Her hair smelled like roasted peaches with a touch of honey. Her lips tasted a bit like peppermint and he mused that she'd probably chewed a breath mint before he arrived, just as he'd done outside her door.

He had his own wounds to heal. He hadn't really discovered the meaning of trust yet. He was still learning what it felt like to actually care for another person; he was still learning what it meant to care for himself.

Unlike before, he was ready to change. He was willing. Maybe she wasn't the end of the line, but Diana seemed like a fresh step in the right direction. At the very least he'd get some practice for his English.

Spilling the Details

2011-10-14T06:43:24Z

Who: Nadja and Diana
When: Afternoon, October 11th
Where: Over the phone
What: Diana talks with Nadja about the aftermath of her date with Stas.
Rating: Probably SFW

Of all the things that Diana expected from her double date, the last possible thing occurred. The weirdest thing was that she found it endearing. Ordinarily that sort of behavior would irritate the crap out of her, but the fact that Stas was struggling with language and other minute changes brought on by his mysterious 'accident' seemed to make it all the more tolerable.

She decided that she needed to pick Diana's brains about the situation, and of course spill all the details. As soon as her roommate left for her afternoon class, Diana locked the door and picked up her cell. She dialed Nadja and waited, flopping around on her bed and curling her hair as if Stas could see her making a show of it.

Hurdling the Language Barrier

2011-10-11T06:31:07Z

Who: Anastas, Leif, Nadja, Diana
When: Evening, October 10th
Where: Leif's apartment at the BCA, a restaurant downtown
What: Nadja sets up a double date with her and Leif, Diana and Anastas.
Rating: SFWish, surprisingly

Anastas didn't know how Leif had talked him into a double date. It was 6 o'clock and he was dressed as nicely as he ever managed. He met Leif at his apartment, which was three floors up from the one he shared with his brother.

"And how is this date going to work with as little English as I speak?"

"I don't think she's worried about your English," Leif replied with a little grin.

Stas shrugged, because he'd understood about three words of that sentence. As nice as it was to have someone else to speak with who actually understood him, Leif pushed a little too hard, switching back and forth between English and Russian so that Stasi's head was swimming to keep up. "You cannot possibly be looking forward to playing translator all night."

"I'll survive," Leif replied. The front bell rang and he answered the door to his beautiful girlfriend and her ravishing friend. "Ladies, please, come in."

Nadja grinned widely and threw an arm around Leif’s neck to kiss him hello. She was rather excited at the prospect of having Diana and Anastas meet. “Hello boys!” She called cheerfully, confident that it would be easily understood by all in the room. “Come, Diana.” She took her friend by the hand and brought her over to their Russian friend.

“Anastas, this is my friend Diana.” She turned to Diana to gauge her opinion of her date. “Diana, Stas.”

Diana looked between Nadja and this Anastas. He was something, she surmised in the four seconds it took to look him over. She was glad Nadja talked her into those scandalous underthings under her short black skirt and off the shoulder purple top. At the very least she could see if her flirting skills crossed the language barrier.

He reached out and took her hand, placing the lightest brush of his lips to her knuckles. "Diana," he repeated, letting his accent hang thickly on her name. She was entirely too gorgeous.

Leif grinned at his overly happy girlfriend. This was exactly her cup of tea, though he had hesitations about introducing one of his students to one of Nadja's friends. It could end horribly, or begin horribly, or all of the horrible things that tended to happen when two people got involved and had sticky relationships all around them. "Ready?" he asked them and ushered the group toward the door and out to the street. He didn't know if the girls had driven, but he wasn't planning on it. He could flag a cab down for the group and they could ride downtown to the restaurant he had reservations at.

Nadja curled her arm around Leif’s and beamed at him. She was really very glad he’d let her go ahead with this crazy idea; and she’d been fully prepared to plead and beg and pout and sulk to make it happen. Diana needed the distraction (and even she could admit, Anastas was a very, very handsome man) and surely it couldn’t hurt someone wanting to learn English having a very pretty girl who only spoke English trying to interact with him? Come on, that had to be the best incentive ever.

“How are your lessons?” She asked Stas curiously. She could have asked in Russian, but she hadn’t yet revealed she knew it (having too much fun listening to what he didn’t think she could understand) and it would leave Diana rather out of the conversation.

Stas was very familiar with this question. "It is coming okay," he replied tentatively. Squished into the back of a cab next to Diana, he was constantly reminding himself to not just reach out and squeeze her leg in those silky patterned tights. "Leif is good teacher."

Diana liked his accent, the way his words didn't quite connect together. "What made you want to learn English?" she asked him.

He looked at her for a moment, trying to wrap his brain around the words and connect the pieces together. It started to make sense and then he was left with a dilemma. How much did he tell her? "I knew before?"

Leif looked for the little nod that told him it was okay to explain it better. Stas gave it and Leif proceeded. "He had an accident and was in a coma for some time. For some reason he forgot English, has to learn it all over."

Diana rested her hand on Anastas' arm gently and offered him a reassuring smile. "Is he a good student?" she asked Leif.

"Mostly," Leif replied with an ironic grin. Leif squeezed Nadja's leg, comfortable together in the very back of the cab. He leaned into his girlfriend's shoulder and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. "I think you did good," he whispered, though he was waiting for this to backfire at any moment.

“Good,” she replied with a smile. Nadja was not waiting for a backfire, because she was almost eternally optimistic. Surely they’d be good for one another. “She is very bossy,” she told Stas with a teasing tone. “You will have to learn more so you can tell her to behave. You will behave tonight, won’t you Diana?” She added with a sly grin towards her friend.

Anastas smiled at Diana as if he didn't understand, but mostly that he didn't particularly care. She'd made a good first impression as far as he was concerned.

Diana smirked back at her friend. "No promises," she said flirtatiously.

They arrived at the restaurant, Leif guiding the group toward a back booth with low key lights and candles floating in a half-filled fishbowl. Diana slide into the booth first, Stas sitting beside her with just a hands-width between their legs. He watched her as she looked over the menu, the way her lips pursed in thought and how she'd occassionally steal a glance at him.

"You will order for me?" he asked Leif in Russian.

Leif nodded. He'd taken Stas out a few times to see if being in public situations could jump start his English. By now he had a pretty good grasp on his student's taste.

“I love this place,” Nadja told the others. “They do an amazing egg fu yong at lunch.” She’d never been for dinner, but it was always getting great reviews in the local paper and everyone everywhere knew it as the place to be seen.

She leaned against Leif and looked at his menu, even though it was exactly the same as the one she was holding. “What are you getting?” She hadn’t quite decided for herself yet, but it was probably a good idea to get something completely different from him if only because they both knew she’d end up stealing part of his anyway.

"I was thinking about the chicken," Leif replied, wrapping his free arm fondly around her shoulders and letting it drop to her waist.

Diana caught Stas watching her again. She leaned a little closer to him and pointed to her menu. "I was thinking the saffron rice would be good. Maybe with the duck."

He nodded as if he understood, but again it was a haze of words he could grasp among others he couldn't quite piece together.

"And a bottle of sake," she insisted, pressing her leg into his ever so subtly, soft enough that he'd miss her presence when she pulled back to her side of the bench.

That he did understand. He smiled sheepishly because he hadn't drunk since the overdose. There was something about this girl though, a feeling of being swept up with the tide. "That be nice," he tried.

She reached over and squeezed his knee, pleased that he was trying to speak English. "It will be," she replied, not correcting his mistake.

Leif smiled over at the two of them. Maybe Nadja was right. Diana was just what Stas needed.

Surprised to have Options

2011-10-07T09:26:25Z

Who: Valentin and Anastas de Kooning
When: Evening, October 7th
Where: Val's apartment at the BCA
What: Val and Stas discuss his educational options.
Rating: SFW

Anastas frowned at his brother, sitting on the edge of his couch with the slightest urge to bolt from the room.

"I've spoken with the headmistress. You can attend classes in the spring given that you can improve your grasp on English."

"What makes you think I want to finish?" So many things had changed since leaving the hospital. The largest change was easily his relationship with his eldest brother. Valentin had become like the father neither of them had been privileged enough to have before now. Anastas felt less like burning the house down around him. It didn't stop them from arguing in circles.

Val smirked at his younger brother, so familiar with this attitude. "I thought you were done running away."

Stasi's frown deepened. He ran a hand through his hair to buy a minute to think. From their previous conversations it was clear that Val was looking at schools other than Blue Ridge. Anastas couldn't go back there and expect a clean slate. He'd slip right back into his old habits and before long he'd be in the hospital again.

He'd heard of Dresden, the misfit school of the Northeast. It had the benefit of obscurity, but more than that the anonymity of being new. He could reveal or hide anything he wanted about himself. He'd have a shot, even just briefly to get a degree and move forward.

"I am not learning English fast enough." His tutor was excellent and exceedingly patient, but the language wasn't coming back to him as easily as he'd hoped. Stas had been in and out of neurologists' offices and been to see several medi-wizards. Not even magic could help him relearn the lost language. No one could pinpoint the cause. It seemed likely that he'd be speaking a hybrid of English and Russian the rest of his life.

"There are options, Val offered pointedly. If need be he'd sit in all of his brother's classes and take notes, translating anything that Stas missed. "I hate to see you give up when you were so close."

Anastas sighed. "I have time to think on it?"

"At least until December. Classes resume January 2nd and I imagine they'll need time to arrange living quarters and adjust your schedule to fit their curriculum."

"I was not taking that much," Anastas interjected amused. It was almost a relief to find that this situation wasn't so high pressure as he thought. There was some time to mull it over and Val seemed to have the sense to let him think it over before asking again.

Val wanted to say something terribly sentimental about how he'd support Anastas whatever his decision, but he didn't want to ruin another good moment with his brother. Far too many things were better left unsaid with this boy. "How's your tutor? If it's not coming along well enough we can find another."

Stas shook his head rather vehemently. "He is good. The language is the problem. Plus he knows some very attractive women."

And some things, Val realized, would never change. He shook his head with a comfortable smile. "Any my age?"

"None I am willing to share." With that Stas got up and left his brother to ponder their peculiar situation. In the quiet of his own room he began to think of Dresden as a serious possibility, something he never would have considered even just a few weeks ago.

There's not enough years underneath this belt

2011-10-07T09:21:55Z

Who: Anastas and Valentin de Kooning
When: BACKDATED to early on monday, June 13th.
Where: Pleasantview Community Hospital.
What: Stasi wakes up.
Rating: SFWish. Language.

He woke choking on a plastic tube.

It was the single most peculiar experience of his life. His brother was sitting nearby in a chair and appeared to have fallen asleep.

It took a solid minute of freaking out before he relaxed and followed the staid rhythm of the machine. He found a button on the inside of the bed rail and pressed it for the nurse. After several more minutes passed, all while trying to breathe with the machine and not against it, a young man in scrubs entered the room.

"You're up. That's good."

Except that Stas didn't understand what the nurse said to him.

"Just breathe with the machine. I know, it's scary, but you'll be fine. I'll go find a doctor to see if you're strong enough to have it removed. Let me just rouse your brother. He's been here every day. So has that little, cute girl, though I think she's gone home for the night."

Stas stared blankly at the man. He felt too weak to figure out why he was speaking some insanely foreign language. It wasn't as if he could speak with the tube pressing against his vocal chords.

The nurse touched Val on the shoulder and they exchanged more words in the strange language. Val seemed to understand it and nodded as the nurse left to find a doctor. "They're going to remove the tube," he assured him in English.

Stas shook his head no, his only way of saying he didn't understand.

"What's wrong with you?" Val said in Russian.

Stas shook his head yes. At the very least he could understand his mother tongue.

"They're going to remove the tube, but he needs to find a doctor."

Stas nodded carefully and had to remind himself once again to breathe with the machine. He couldn't ask Val any questions yet and he didn't think his brother clever enough to figure out what he wanted to know.

He could remember, hazily, that last evening before ending up here. It was Cinco de Mayo. Sunny called. He decided afterward to get wasted. Apparently there was such a thing as too wasted.

Val sat quietly; he didn't know what to say. Should he beat up the boy who just revived from a coma or should he support him? There was a long road ahead and while coming out of the coma was a giant step toward recovery it was only the beginning. Stas had a lot of hard work ahead of him.

A doctor returned with the nurse and gave Stas the once over. He peered at the chart for a good long while and then decided that they could safely remove the tube. Val had to translate all of this into Russian and because Anastas was going to be awake for the removal they allowed Val to stay in the room in case he needed to translate any instructions.

It was an unpleasant experience to say the least, but fortunately over soon enough. He coughed quite a bit and couldn't find his voice to ask for a glass of water. The nurse was on it and offered him a small plastic cup. "Sip," he instructed, which Val repeated.

He sipped and was so grateful to breathe at his own pace.

The nurse hovered to observe for awhile after the doctor left to rewrite his charts, but even he left when it became clear Stas could breathe on his own. Now that they were alone Val was struggling to breathe, fighting for the right words.

"I am sorry," Anastas said, surprising himself and his brother. His voice was hoarse and broken; enough so that his brother told him not to speak. He found a pad of paper and a pen and passed it to him so that Stas could write. I did not mean to cause this kind of trouble, he wrote in Russian.

Val blinked at him stupidly for a moment and then shook his head. "It's more than that you, stupid shit. You could have died. You almost did."

I should have. He debated not turning the pad to him, but Val was already reading it as he wrote.

If Stas wasn't so weak and pale looking Val might very well have punched him. "It was stupid, Anastas. It was entirely reckless. Look at the worry you've put everyone through."

Stas didn't really know what he meant, or rather who he meant. The nurse had mentioned a little, cute girl. It was probably Sunny, which set him to thinking: what in the hell was she doing here? And Yev probably worried, that was all the boy did. Valentin was still here sitting by his side, sleeping in a hospital and neglecting his own life for... How long?

"Thirty nine days."

A month. A month and a week. He missed an entire month of his life. He sat in astounded silence.

"Do you understand English?" Val asked in the language, still bothered by the earlier conversation with the nurse.

Stas stared at him for a moment before writing: what is that gibberish?

"It's English," he said in Russian. "Can you write in English?"

Stas learned to speak English when they moved over from Russia; he started school late as a result. He was fluent in it, though it hadn't started out that way. He stared at the paper, tightening his grip around the pen. The language wouldn't come to him; he couldn't remember a single word, not even how the letters looked compared to the cyrillic script already on the paper. No, he finally wrote resigned. I cannot remember any of it.

Val sighed because this was another complication he wasn't prepared to deal with. "I'll speak with the doctor about it."

Not right now, Stas wrote quickly and passed the paper.

Frowning at him he shook his head. "I suppose it can wait." After all, Stas had been out for over a month. There were plenty of pressing issues here.

Stas reached for the cup and found his arm muscles straining just to lift that little thing. How much life had left him in the course of a month? He noticed the IV in his other arm. Looking down he couldn't see his legs beneath the sheet, but he could feel that they were unused to movement. He sipped the water, setting the cup back on the tray once it was empty.

"I don't think you'll be able to finish school this year. You've missed too much."

Anastas groaned in response. It was so irritatingly grown up that Val decided to turn the conversation in that direction. I can test out, he scribbled on the pad. He didn't want to do another year of school for one stupid mistake.

"We'll talk about it."

They frowned at each other for some time. Val played the antagonizing big brother nicely, but he rarely stepped up as the proxy father figure. They were venturing into very strange territory.

I do not want to go back to his house.

Val took a very deep breath. "He doesn't know you're here."

Good, Stas wrote, as if that should surprise his brother. The boys' relationship had always been thorny. Their relationship with their father was something worse. I do not want him to know.

"He might have to know eventually," Val answered carefully.

He will not care.

Val figured that was beside the point. "You'll have to stay with me until this blows over."

Which was about when Stas finally thought to ask: where am I?

"Pleasantview Community Hospital."

He didn't bother asking how he got there. Val must have found him at the house in Hesperia and apparated them both to more familiar territory. Better to have him in a hospital closer to Val than to Kostya. The choice to go with a muggle hospital was interesting, but entirely logical if he gave it a little thought. Wizard doctors didn't have the kind of training to deal with a drug overdose. Why were you there?

Val didn't get the question and told his brother so.

At the house. When I fucked everything up.

"Ah." He paused while considering which would be his best answer. The truth was a little more terrible than he wanted to admit, but Stas was certainly good for it. "He called me to clean up your mess."

Then he knows already, Stas wrote furiously. Why even bother lying about it?

"I was trying to be nice."

Though Val's voice had been the only one in the room the silence that washed over them was profound. Anastas had no answer to that and Val had nothing further to say.

Go get the doctor. I need to know what happens next.

Val sat for a moment more. A curious bond had formed between them over the course of their conversation; he didn't want to wreak such a fragile thing. He fought the urge to reach over and squeeze Anastas' hand. They could keep building this thing if he gave the kid some distance. He stood and nodded, leaving the room as Stas wanted.

He watched his brother go, surprised at the emotion welling up in his already raw throat. He closed his eyes and huffed a hard breath through his nose. Too many thoughts were swirling up in the silence. He thought about his little brother, then Sunny, Emilie, his other friends. How disappointed and disgusted they must be. If they didn't hate him before, surely now.

His mind flickered back to the last thought he had before tumbling into a coma. One day I will see you again, maht and I will repay you for every wound. He opened his eyes again and sat up a bit. It took more effort than he thought and was ready for a nap already.

I just woke up and I am ready for sleep again. Pathetic, he thought. He was out again before Val returned, but not without one last note.

Val returned with the doctor and felt a rush of panic as the doctor checked his breathing and pulse. "Just asleep," the doctor assured him. "I think this is for you," he added and passed the note pad to Valentin.

Val read the scribbled Russian words with a smirk and then the first smile he'd been able to crack in weeks. I will stay with you, bastard. Thank you. "Will he be okay?"

"It's far too early to tell and there may be some other damage beyond the language loss." The doctor looked between the brothers and pursed his lips in thought. "Still, he's awake. That's a better prognosis than he had just a few hours ago."

Val nodded soberly. It would be a very long road to recovery, but at least there was hope.

If I stay lucky then my tongue will stay tied

2011-10-07T09:03:27Z

Who: Anastas
When: BACKDATED to May, spring break
Where: Hesperia, California. Stasi's house.
What: Stasi does a bad thing.
Rating: NSFWish. Language. Drug use.

Anastas had been drinking, drugging and fucking his way across campus since Sunny had unceremoniously dumped him. Some days were not as hard to get through as others, but every day served as some kind of struggle.

What he didn't understand was how she had managed to get such a stranglehold on his heart. How had she wriggled in and taken up residence in that place which had laid dormant for so many years?

He hated her for it.

He resented that she had come into his life and forced him to change. He detested her sunshine smile and cheerful moods and how she'd always just look at him, like a goddamn puppy that wanted you to pet it. And as soon as his hand got close she'd bite.

More like a cat then, he decided. She'd sit close and kiss him and roil him up and then as soon as he started to move she'd turn into something else. She'd hiss and spit and push him away. At first that had been part of the fun, but as they moved forward it became the deep, dark secret between them.

And fuck her, he thought. Why was he the only one in the relationship who had to change? Why hadn't she tried harder? Why couldn't she give up some of the things she loved?

Her drunk dial had his head struggling to reconcile with his heart. How disgusting, he thought. So pitiful.

Well no more of that. She was out of his life and he wasn't going to fight to win her back anymore. He was reverting to his old self and fuck anyone who wanted to comment on it.

Unfortunately his old self wasn't entirely prepared for his return. Too much booze, all scotch of course. Too much coke, which he'd stopped taking months ago. He didn't know his limits anymore; he couldn't tell where the line for enough was.

He writhed on the floor for a few painful moments, spittle congealing at the side of his mouth, nose bleeding. He could taste it in the back of his throat and groaned. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

His vision was fading around the edges, getting brown before it turned black. He imagined it would just go out in a moment and he supposed for some people it did. No warning, no slow descent through light and sound into nothingness.

Even his hearing was playing tricks, muffling noises. He thought he heard a panicked cry for help. He thought he felt someone lifting his shoulders to sit him up, big strong arms wrapping around him to carry him off.

Maybe it was death. Maybe it had finally come for him too. Maybe he'd see his mother again. He could tell her how much she'd fucked up his life. "You are the worst," he mumbled against fabric. Someone had picked him up; his head was lolling on their shoulder.

Valentin de Kooning closed his eyes. "Yeah," he replied quietly. "But so are you."

After that there was silence, a heavy weightless silence that floated over him. Or perhaps he was floating and the silence was like water lapping at him, trying to pull him down. His vision finally failed him and he closed his eyes rather than struggle against it. The fight had left his body and whatever happened next was up to his brother.

Hooker Heels and Mousse Cake

2011-10-06T04:14:23Z

Who: Diana Harvery, Nadja Dracht
When: The morning after this
Where: Burnham University, Downtown Burnham, That awesome store where Nadja spends all her paychecks
What: Diana is all torn up about Shylock's new girl. Nadja takes her friend out for retail therapy.
Rating: SFW

Boy troubles.

Not that Nadja ever really had high hopes when one of her friends texted her so early in the morning, but when the problem at hand was boy-related... well, that was right up there with ‘someone died’ on the how-fast-should-I-reply scale of urgency. She stopped where she was standing, just outside of the Heaton University Library and put her bag and books down on a nearby seat. Economics class was always packed full even in the mornings; she could get notes off someone. This was more important.

She was both concerned and a little confused. She didn’t think Diana was seeing anyone, and that made her wonder if perhaps she had not been as attentive a friend as she would have liked. Cake time, draga?

She would ordinarily suggest something a great deal stronger than cake for boy troubles, but it was just a tiny bit too early in the day to start making cocktails. Well. She supposed that might depend on the severity of the boy troubles. Maybe it was called for after all.

And coffee Diana texted back. It was disgustingly early and she almost didn't get up for her first class. She had a break now, was thinking about skipping her next class anyway. You on campus? She could meet her on the way to their favorite coffee shop.

Well, there was only one place on campus that had coffee worth talking about. She slung her bag over her shoulder and tucked her books under her arm, texting as she walked, I will scare people off our table ♥

Not that what she did was really scaring, in the true sense of the word. She asked nicely, and most of the time the people just scurried away. Getting your own way was a distinct advantage of being pretty. At any rate their favourite table was vacant, still dewy from the chilly night. She flashed a brilliant smile towards the barista on duty, and took a handful of napkins to dry down the chairs overlooking the university concourse.

Looks like mousse cake today!

Diana made her way across campus; she wasn't that far behind Nadja. She breezed through the occupied tables and plunked on a seat across from Nadja. "I might need two pieces of that," she announced gesturing back to the mousse cake on the counter.

She sighed, stupidly, pathetically. Where to even begin? "I'm an idiot," she said, because that was relatively speaking the best place to start. It was entirely true, but she was something of an idiot where Shylock was concerned. She'd always been stupid about him.

“He is an idiot,” Nadja corrected, although she didn’t know who ‘he’ was or what had happened. All she knew was that there had been some boy trouble of some sort, and when boy trouble happened it was never the girl’s fault. Unless it was an other girl that was causing the boy trouble, and then she was a terrible horrible person and probably had awful hair.

She waved at one of the student baristas to let them know that they were ready (she didn’t understand why people complained about the service here, everyone was always so accommodating-- well, the boys, anyway). “What has happened?”

"My ex found someone else." Of course, this was an extremely simplified version of matters. Diana was all torn up about it because of the shock, the sudden shock that casual sex wasn't just casual for her. Somehow in the middle of a summer of fun her feelings for him stirred up again, but she never would have known it until he said something to the contrary.

The young, almost cute barista boy came over with his order pad and took their orders (more mousse cake than they could eat in a half an hour and caffienated beverages). As soon as the boy was gone Diana's frown returned. "I was supposed to be over him years ago."

Nadja was actually very surprised by this. She had been under the impression that Diana and Shy’s breakup had been mutual-- their friendship hadn’t seemed to suffer for it-- and that her friend had never really been in a position to... well, need to get ‘over him’. “This is... sudden. And also, not sudden.”

She wasn’t entirely sure how to phrase what she was trying to say. “You broke up last year, were you not over him then?” She would have assumed they would have had this talk much sooner if that was the case. Unless she just very suddenly missed him, which was silly because Diana could easily have her pick of anyone around. Why recycle?

Diana put her head in her hands, shaking it slowly back and forth. "I... uh. We decided we'd start sleeping together this summer. Just sort of like... You know? Sexy fun times." Diana bit her lip and huffed. "And I thought it would be just that. You know, I'm an advanced creature. I can deal with that sort of thing without getting feelings involved." Except that somewhere along the way her feelings had been involved and she couldn't just turn them off.

“... Diana.” Nadja managed to pick her jaw up off the floor long enough to form a decent judge-face. “How did that seem like a good idea? Exes are exes for a reason. Why did you stop dating if you still liked him?” Nadja didn’t really believe in the myth of casual sex. She was quite convinced that feelings were always an entanglement to such things, and guys were into it because they were fundamentally sociopaths. “If you told me you were thinking of this before you started I would have smacked it out of you.”

"Which is why I didn't tell you." The whole thing was a horrible idea, completely and horribly wretched. The almost cute boy returned with their drinks and a tray full of cake with two small plates. Diana filled her mouth with a bite full of cake directly from the tray. It would prevent herself from saying anything more, at least until her blood sugar could balance out the extreme stupidity Shylock inspired in her.

Nadja huffed. “I could have saved you the trouble.” She sliced off a corner of cake with the serving fork and picked at it fussily. “I would have told you to date him properly if you still cared, or to find someone else if he only wanted to use you.” She was offended for her friend, even if the situation was a problem of her own making. Of all the boys in the world, why one she already tried on and found to be a mismatch? It was a setup for disaster.

"It was my idea," Diana moaned and took a sip of her cappuccino to center herself. And if anyone was using anyone... Oh goddess. I'm defending him too. "And a bad one, yeah." She wasn't supposed to feel bad, agonizing over this. "We were probably using each other if anything. And that was okay." For awhile. Diana shook her head again. "And all of a sudden he found someone new. Which is when it stopped being okay. At least he had the grace to stop fucking around with me."

“Well you better not take him back when he realizes she is just a shiny new toy and not at all the perfect woman that you are.” She just might have to slap them both. “How rude.” Finishing her corner of cake, Nadja contemplated the rest of the slice before nudging it towards Diana. She had a shoot on the weekend; it wouldn’t do to balloon up right before it.

Diana couldn't help the little smile, but she rolled her eyes self-consciously. "She better be the fucking best, otherwise I'll kill both of them." She took the cake tray and clobbered the rest of the cake. She'd regret it later when she finally crashed from the sugar high, but for the moment it was entirely satisfying. "Get your boyfriend to introduce to me to someone. Didn't you say he was working with some Russian kid, teaching him English?"

“Ohh,” Nadja grinned. “Very cute. A saucy mouth though. Leif has not yet gotten to telling him I can mostly understand what he’s saying. He thinks it’s funny.” She shook her head and laughed. “It is a big effort to keep my face straight. I think you will like him,” she teased.

"I wouldn't understand a word of it, but if he's got an accent I'm game. Let's double date. At the very least Leif can translate." This had the possibility of being a worse idea than screwing around with Shy over the summer, but at the very least it was a welcome distraction.

Nadja couldn’t help but smirk. “I will ask Leif to translate ‘my friend wants rebound sex’, is that what you mean? A whole night of ‘he likes your hair’, ‘she thinks your tattoo is sexy’ is very awkward.”

"He has tattoos?" Diana practically squealed as she finished up the cake, running her finger across the tray and licking it saucily. "I think this might be love," she teased.

She just rolled her eyes with a smile and turned back to the scandalously creamy fluff on her coffee. “I’ll tell him to teach sweet talk English next. I don’t think davay potrahaemsya will work on you; finding in those little dictionary books really kill the mood.”

"I don't even want to know what that means," Diana replied. She laughed a bit. "I don't know if I want to tell him upfront I want rebound sex. Half the fun is the seduction."

“Do you even get to make seduction?” Nadja teased. “You just look at boys and they fall over themselves in love with you. No challenge.”

Diana shrugged and allowed herself an indulgent grin. "I still like to make the effort." She preferred it when boys weren't falling all over themselves for her. Which is why she'd been attracted to Shylock in the first place. He was probably the weirdest boy she'd ever met, not entirely resistant to her charms, but it took a little more effort than usual. She actually had to work for it with him.

She pushed him from her thoughts again, sneaky bastard that he was. "Ugh, I really don't want to go to class." She didn't have much else to do, but she didn't think sitting in class would distract her long enough to get this out of her brain today.

“What do you have?” Nadja looked at her watch. Economics was nearly over if it was running on time, and then she had a free. Math wasn’t until after lunch, but that one she definitely had to go to. “If you want to go down the strip I will make you look at these shoes I like and you can tell me if they are trashy.”

"Nothing I care too much about," Diana admitted. She had to take some pre-requisites this semester and her choices weren't great. "Yeah fuck it. Let's go look at trashy shoes." Because she didn't really need to know what shoes Nadja was looking at, they were almost definitely trashy.

Nadja pouted. “You do not know they are trashy yet. They might be very nice shoes.” She made a slightly offended sound and drained the last of her coffee. “I wear hooker heels one time...”

Diana laughed because it was only partially true. At least so Diana thought. She was equally prone to coveting trashy shoes and was therefore in no place to judge. "They looked good that one time," she chimed and set some bills on the table for a tip and enough to cover the bill.

“They looked amazing that one time,” she corrected. “I could have made so much money on that night.” Then she burst into giggles, because she’d been approached only once, and had been so horrified at being mistaken for a prostitute she nearly cried. “Enough for a ride home, anyway. Most of the way. To the end of the street, for definitely.”

Nadja added another note to the money pile, because the almost-cute server was always so nice to them and he never forgot to make sure she got no-fat cream. “Okay so they are definitely a little bit trashy. Spike heel.”

"You can class them up for sure," she said with a grin, though she hadn't seen those heels in quite a long time. She got up, straightening the hideously tight skirt she'd put on to make herself feel better. "Maybe we can find something appropriate for meeting Leif's parents," she teased.

“Ahaaaa. Parents. Frightening.” She and Leif had been dating for quite some time now so it shouldn’t be a big deal to meet other family members, right? But then, she hadn’t even told her parents that she was seeing someone, let alone that it was pretty serious. Her dad would probably catch the next flight out of Romania to kidnap Leif and interrogate him until he admitted to being a serial killer or something.

“That is flat shoes. Black. Matte. No fancy lacing. Parent shoes. Shoes that say ‘look how sensible I am. I will raise your grandchildren properly’.”

Diana practically squealed. "Grandchildren! Oh my god, are you preggo in the eggo?" She poked at Nadja's disturbingly flat stomach and giggled obscenely as they passed a table of freshman who were just ogling them. "They'll come out saying dirty things in Russian!"

Nadja pulled a scandalized face, angling her belly away from the poke. “Whose babies am I having?! I will have a lot of explaining to do!”

She joined in Diana’s giggles once they were past the starry-eyed freshmen. “I think if I fell with child my agency would drop me for good. I would have to get a real job! Like protecting Leif from Daddy.”

"You can have my babies if you like," Diana offered blithely. Then she slipped her arm through Nadja's fondly and directed her towards her car so she could drive them both downtown. "I bet you Leif would pay a premium for that."

“You’re so horny. Maybe we should go back to the little boys in the cafe,” she teased, bumping her friend with her hip. “You can make manly men of them.” She smacked a big kiss to Diana’s cheek and leaned against the side of her car, wondering idly what her boyfriend would really think of her having another girl’s babies, even though it hadn’t been meant literally.

"Not in the mood for freshman," Diana replied pluckily and dashed around her car to take the driver's seat. "Some other brazen hussy is going to have to turn them into manly men. Or rather quivering heaps of men. That's how they tend to turn out with me." She strapped into her seatbelt and rolled her eyes. "Or so I'm told."

Nadja followed suit on the other side of the car. “‘So you’re told’? Such quivering heaps they cannot even tell you themselves! That is talent.” She didn’t think she’d ever had that effect on anyone. “Maybe you should start giving lessons. Making Boys Jello 101. But not until after we look at shoes, okay?”

"Baby, you don't need a class for that. You just have to up your game a little." Diana laughed gaily and started driving toward downtown Burnham. She found a parking spot not far from the main strip and popped out of the car ready for some retail therapy.

Nadja tucked her textbooks under the passenger seat and slung her bag over her shoulder. “I should be upset with you taking me shopping instead of making me study. But I think it might have been my idea.” She laughed and ran around the front of the car to catch up to her friend. “They are in the cute little boutique in the side; the one with the flirty dresses.” That awful wonderful store where blowing thousands of dollars was only as simple as having the money to spend.

"Oh Jesus," Diana said raising her hands as if to declare a cease fire. "I may have to lock my credit card in the car." The only problem with having a model for a best friend was the constant inspiration to buy the latest, cutest, to die for thing. It was easy to go overboard and it wasn't like Nadja was a reformed shopaholic (in Diana's esteemed opinion). "Just... Don't let me go over 200."

“$200?” She teased. “You want to buy one half of a shoe? Come oooonn. You need to buy sexy undies that nobody has seen on you, too.” That was the only good part of a breakup, wasn’t it? Or, a technical breakup, in this case. The buying cute new things to say ‘fuck you, you can’t have this’.

Diana was going to get yelled at for her credit card bill after the next statement came out. So much for being frugal. "I don't understand this obsession with cute underthings. No one ever sees them and when they do they stay on for about point 5 seconds." Blowing 50 bucks on a pair of panties seemed a little extravagant to soothe her wounded ego. Though this Russian by sounded promising; maybe he could see her new underthings. "You'll have to pick me out something to please the Russian."

Nadja shrugged, holding the door of the shop open for her friend. “If they only stay on for point five seconds then they have served their purpose, have they not?” She chose not to disagree with the part about nobody seeing them, because that wasn’t so much true for her. She did it on photoshoots a lot, and sometimes she would just sit around in her underthings just for Leif’s benefit.

“Hmm. For Anastas I think... black. Lacy. Seethrough. Entirely pointless. Something like... this.” She plucked a tiny wisp of black lace from a display and held it up for Diana to inspect.

Diana burst into giggles at the presentation of those panties. "They might melt before he even gets a chance to see them." She picked up another pair, black and white ruffled panties. "Though I don't know if I'll be able to squeeze into a tight skirt with a rufflebutt underneath."

Nadja agreed wholly with that sentiment. The ruffly panties were as cute as could be, but they would definitely show under things; especially any skirt as tight as Diana was prone to wearing. “Discreet then,” she offered, eyeing a sheer lacy thong. “The matching bra for this one is so sexy.”

"We might have a winner," Diana intoned, picking up the panties and holding them up to her body. "If he doesn't propose marriage on the second date I'll know I've done something wrong." She eyeballed the matching bra, debating the price of such salacious underthings. Then she decided: fuck it. I need this. She picked up both and nudged her friend with her shoulder. "I bet you we could find something to get Leif all worked up. I can't be the only one getting laid after this double date."

She shrugged one elegant shoulder. “Maybe you will be, maybe you won’t be,” she said cryptically with a little shake of her head and a cheeky little smile. “Come see my shoes,” she insisted, pulling Diana over to the back of the store where a wall of shoes in all shapes and colors dominated. Nadja scanned the wall briefly before finding what she was looking for. “These!” She presented one of a pair of gold heels to her friend.

Diana grinned if only because these heels walked the line between trashy and classy. "I think it depends entirely on what you wear with these," she suggested. "They could go uptown or downtown. To a back alley. In the back of a station wagon. Owned by a pimp named Easy Pete."

Nadja laughed and picked up the shoe’s pair, turning it over in her hands and examining it. “It would look nice with jeans. Bad with more gold.” She thought silently for a moment, then held it up at eye level to examine the heel. “Do you think they will make me too tall to be sexy? Another four inches...” Flats were good for comfort and for not standing over a crowd. But they didn’t do that thing with the calves or make her butt stick out just right. It was a terrible dilemma.

They were very high and Nadja was already at that inappropriate and unattainable height that most boys balked at. "Baby, at your height it doesn't even matter." Diana smirked then, because Nadja was almost definitely going to buy the shoes. "Oh just get them! Wear them on our double date."

“So they’re good? You approve?” She smiled. “Good, because I already put a deposit on them.” It was hard enough finding shoes her size, if she didn’t pounce as soon as she found them it could be too late. She put the display pair back on the shelf. “Did you want to look at anything else here?” Apart from everything else, that is.

"Oh jesus no. If I look at anything else I'll have to get a second job. Let's just pay for these ridiculously overpriced and flimsy underthings and get the hell out of here." Diana crumpled the chosen undergarments in her hand and made her way up the packed aisles trying only to look straight ahead and not let her willpower get swayed by something sparkly and short.

Nadja smiled and skipped up behind her. “I bought a skirt just the other day. Cannot wear it with these shoes though. Too much shiny gold and I will look like a very nasty hooker indeed.” At the counter, the cashier greeted them both brightly and ducked out the back to get the shoes Nadja had set aside a few days earlier. It did give her pause to wonder if she was at the shop too much if the staff had begun to recognize her.

Their purchases were wrapped neatly in tissue paper and deposited gently into expensive-looking shopping bags-- after all, you can tell a lot about a clothing store by the type of bags they give you to take home, and when customers carry them away it’s just more advertising. That was how Nadja had discovered this place in the first instance.

Diana crammed her purchases in the backseat of her car and drove them back to campus. "Should probably go to class." At least now she had something to look forward to, however vague and as awkward as it was probably going to turn out. She leaned over and hugged Nadja, forgetting she still had her seatbelt on and almost choking herself on it. "Thank you. I needed that."

“Any time you need to shop, I am your girl,” Nadja assured her with a grin. “And any time you don’t, I am still your girl.” She pressed a big kiss to her cheek. “I will ask Leif to ask Anastas when he would like to go out and call you, okay?”

Diana nodded happily. "We have a date," she said with a happy little shiver of anticipation. And she had some fabulous underwear to go with it. For the moment she had completely forgotten all about Shylock Wilson and his new girl. She couldn't even begin to repay Nadja for that.

"I could do without the roving pot smell and the fire alarms at gross o'clock in the morning."

2011-10-03T05:06:33Z

Who: Abernathy Ford, Shylock Wilson
When: Excruciatingly early morning, September 27th.
Where: Burnham University
What: A fire alarm wakes the entire freshman dorm. Shy comes to keep his Sleeping Beauty company.
Rating: Saaafe.

Abernathy was something of a heavy sleeper, but the screaming of the dorm's fire alarms cut right through the pleasant dream she was having. She scrambled to find a sweater to toss over her tank top and grabbed her phone on the way out.

If she was forced outside for long she could text around and see if anyone else was up.

It wasn't as cold as she thought, but the fire alarm could still be heard outside. The thing was more annoying than she would have expected. She found a low stone bench to plunk onto and popped out her phone.

The first person she thought to text brought a secret little smile to her face.

Fire alarms suck balls.

Shy slept like a log, usually. A plane crashing directly into him as he slept would probably just cause him to roll over and snore. But since he’d started seeing Abernathy, he’d been keeping his phone close just in case she called. It was silly, sure. But he was still very eager to hear from her... even to the point that he’d taken the phone to bed with him. Not that he’d tell her that.

The phone vibrated into his head insistently, and he opened one eye to see if it was worth waking up for, or if he could toss it across the room and go back to sleep. Seeing that it was from her, he smiled to himself, and rolled onto his back to free up both hands for typing.

Is that code or are you standing in Hudson Square in your shorties?

She grinned when he phone buzzed back. Hudson Square in my shorties. Then she quickly fired off another text. Sad you aren't here, or what?

Shattered! He giggled to himself. These drills usually didn’t last too long, otherwise he’d have offered to come keep her company. Unless...

Definitely a drill?

Can't tell. The fire trucks hadn't showed up yet, but she could hear the sirens in the distance. Didn't smell burnt popcorn.

Do you want me to come get you?

She grinned, bit her lip, flipped her phone around in her hands a few times. Yes. It was all she dared type.

He rolled out of bed, properly awake now, and pulled on his jeans and hoodie from earlier in the day. Well, the day before. He padded quietly downstairs so that he wouldn’t wake his dad and ninjaed the car keys on the way out the door.

About ten minutes later he pulled up in the dorm car park at Burnham University, and about two minutes after that (approaching the crowd of first years in their pajamas) he realized he hadn’t put on shoes before leaving. At least he wasn’t the only one who dressed from the floor simply to get out the door.

So which pack of girls in Spongebob boxers is closest to you?

She peeked around and saw the group he was talking about. I'm about 8 o'clock if you're standing on the street. The fire trucks had arrived and firemen were milling about the front of the building. It was probably just a cooking mishap in the dorm kitchen.

Shy looked around a little confused. His 8 o’clock was across the street. So if she was facing him then her 8 o’clock would be... times like this he wished he wore a watch. He faced the direction it couldn’t possibly be, and then turned around completely, hoping that she couldn’t see him being absolutely directionless.

He actually spotted her hair before the rest of her. But having found her hair and the rest of her, he wandered over with a big grin. “Really, AB? Setting the dorms on fire instead of just waiting a few hours and catch me at lunch?”

She shrugged awkwardly as he approached and tried not to feel so self conscious in her pajamas (which were a pair of boxer shorts, a tank top, and the sweater she'd thrown on top). She slipped her feet into her big shit kicker boots before coming downstairs so her feet wouldn't get cold. She felt altogether naked in front of him. "Well you know. You're entirely irresistible."

“I know, I just can’t keep away from myself.” He grinned, and dared to press a kiss to her forehead while everyone was milling about. “You cold?”

"Oh. I'm used to colder," she said and eased her arms around him. "Might just be a stove mishap," she said as the alarm finally turned off and the firemen came out of the building. "I dragged you out for nothing," she added apologetically.

He shrugged, still smiling. “Got to see you, though.” He snaked his arms around her in return, though she would probably want to be getting back into her nice warm bed rather than standing in the square in her boxers. “And your cute shorts.”

She blushed about the shorts and then looked down. "And you're barefoot," she commented. "Aren't your toes frozen?" She didn't know what to do with this boy. The firemen were giving the all clear for the students to return to the building. "Uh. You could come in. Warm up a bit." Oh my god, I just asked him to come in.

“A little,” he admitted. “Didn’t think to put shoes on. But hey, I remembered pants.” And then she was asking him if he’d like to come to her room, and he was fighting off a smirk. “Wouldn’t that just scandalize your roommate?”

"She's with her boytoy," AB said with a dirty, little gesture of her hand. Then she laughed and wrapped her arm around him. "Come in before I change my mind."

“Yes ma’am!” Shy followed her lead like a happy little puppy. “How are you liking dorm life, as it is?”

"It's okay," she replied squishing sideways through the door with him. "I can't say as though I'm a fan of the bathroom situation. If I had the money I'd move off campus." She pressed the button for the elevator after a small crowd filled it to head up to the ninth floor. "I could do without the roving pot smell and the fire alarms at gross o'clock in the morning."

“Well, that’s freshman year for you,” he teased. “I couldn’t take the noise, and my roommate smoked constantly. I nicked off home as soon as it was time to choose for second year.” He nipped another kiss to her lips as the elevator door shut.

She grinned at him and pushed the button for the eighth floor. "How is it living at home?" She'd been to his house on their second date, but she hadn't met his dad yet. "Better or worse?" The elevator dinged at each floor they passed and when it reached the eighth she pulled him out toward her room..

Ooh, he liked being pulled around by her. “Well, my dad’s never home so it’s a lot like having the place to myself. So I guess that’s better. If I lived with my mom though, that would be a whole different story. Mom, stepdad, little sister with no concept of a closed door... Before my brother moved out with his girlfriend, he had her over this one time, and Desi barged in and leapt on the both of them. In the act. Honestly it was great, I’ve never laughed so hard since.”

"I think I'd be horrified. And maybe scarred for life." Abby punched in the door code to get into her room and stepped inside, kicking off her boots. "My castle," she said cheerfully. "Anything you like is yours." And then she realized how open that left her to being claimed, but she decided that was fine with her at this point.

“As long as it never happens to me, I’ll be happy with thinking it’s the funniest thing ever.” He followed her inside her room cautiously, as though she might change her mind at any moment. “Anything? I’ll keep that in mind.” He offered her a saucy grin and leaned against the wall.

“I hope you don’t have an early class today.”

She grinned back at him and plunked up onto her bed. It was on risers to fit her trunk underneath, one of the few hold overs from her life at Dresden. "I might just skip it," she replied, though it started later in the day. "Do you have class?" She was starting to feel a little bad for dragging him out, though she was happy to see him.

“Nothing I wasn’t going to sleep through anyway.” It wasn’t that he didn’t do mornings, just that he didn’t do morning classes. It was perfectly outrageous to expect someone to pay attention and learn things before lunch. He edged into the room a little more and leaned against the end of her bed.

She patted the bed next to her. "I won't bite. Unless of course that's the kind of thing you like. Then maybe I can try to develop a talent for it." She smiled at him rather shyly. They had cuddled before, but it had been on a couch, not a bed. She didn't want to move too fast with Shy and make a mess of it.

“Abby, you could punch me in the face and I’d probably like it just because it was coming from you.” He moved around the end of the bed as casually as he could muster before sitting next to her, a small distance between them. He didn’t want her to think that he thought that getting invited back to her room meant he could act like he was entitled to anything. “Oh, comfy bed. I’ll try not to snooze on you again, I promise.”

She offered him a doubtful smirk. "You might not want to open that door." Not that she'd punch him. Well, she might. Given the right circumstances. "It's nice, right? I thought dorm beds were supposed to be punishing but I actually sleep pretty well." She shifted just a bit closer to him. "I didn't mind it so much. I mean, you falling asleep on me."

“Awesome! That means you won’t hold it against me if I do it again. On accident.” He replied to her smirk with a silly grin, and flopped down behind her.

There's a boy in my bed. She tried not to let that fact register so much when she laid down next to him. She didn't know if she should turn and face him or stay where she was with her back to his front. She decided to turn on her side and looked at him as if she couldn't quite believe he'd come all the way out to chat with her during a false fire alarm and now he was laying in her bed. "I don't mind if if you crash out on me." She yawned and stretched out her arm to rest on his hip. "So long as you don't mind me crashing too."

“That is just perfectly fine with me,” he assured her, reaching up to brush a stray hair off her face. “Am I allowed to cuddle you, or is that pushing it?”

She leaned into that light touch. "That would be nice," she said moving closer to him. "Should take my sweater off first." She squirmed out of it and tossed it on the floor. "It gets hot in the room. Can't control the heat." Then she squirmed closer again and settled her top arm on his waist.

Aw, sweet baby jesus. He hadn’t put on a layer under his hoodie, but then he hadn’t anticipated needing to. It’d have to stay on, even if it meant passing out from the heat. That of course was extremely unlikely, but Shy couldn’t help that every now and then his mind would jump to the worst possible conclusion before reason won out.

He curled an arm around her, the other folded up under his neck. “Well, if I’m getting you too hot just let me know.” He cringed a little at the entendre. “You know what I meant.”

She giggled at the entendre while he was cringing. "I'm not sure I do," she whispered and leaned in to kiss him very lightly. She hoped he didn't get the wrong idea, but she could probably kiss Shy every day for the rest of her life..

He smiled against her lips, still completely charmed by her. “Okay then, you sit there being cute and I’ll throw every double entendre I can think of your way. Get them out in the open and stuff.” He laughed, and touched his forehead to hers.

"You're way cuter than me," she said with the tiniest pout. "It's not fair. I've never had a boyfriend cuter than me before. I don't even know how to deal."

He gave her his best Blue Steel. “I think you’re underestimating your own cuteness. As cute as I am... you’re a whole different league.”

"You mean beast. A whole other beast." She brought her other hand up to trace the line of his jaw up onto his cheek, across his eyebrow. "You're something special," she said quietly. "I'm glad we met."

“Are you promising me a beast?” He bit his lip cheekily. “I’m glad too.” He ran his hand up her back gently.

Warmth spread over her in a rush from that one gesture. She hoped he couldn't sense it; she couldn't quite figure out how to handle the physical reaction she had to his touch. "I don't know if you'd want to see the beastly side of me." Then she turned her head into her pillow to hide her blush. "You'll see it in the morning," she squeaked out.

The thought she would wake up next to him in the morning... That was something to revel in.

“I wouldn’t like you when you’re angry? You turn green and start tearing your clothes off?” He started giggling madly and wriggled a little closer. “I do not discriminate based on skin color; I bet you’d make an awesomely sexy green girl.”

"You'd like that wouldn't you, if I just started tearing all my clothes off?" Then she was blushing into her pillow again and giggling hysterically. "Look what you do to me! You turn me into a raging girl." She pushed at him idly and then she pulled him back again. "What am I going to do with you?"

Well actually yes, he would quite like that. “Hey, if you need to go into a green girl rage and rip your gear off, I will stand back like an innocent bystander... and maybe oogle a bit, but you can’t blame me for that. I’m just a man.” He squeezed her again.

"You are hardly innocent," she accused and squeezed him back. "But I'm thinking I might keep you anyway." Then she leaned forward to press a light kiss on his lips. "If that's okay with you?"

“Tell you what. I’ll let you try me out for a while, and if you like me I’m yours.” He brushed her hair back affectionately, and kissed her gently at first, before curling his hand at the back of her neck and holding her to a much deeper, prolonged kiss.

Her toes curled a bit at that kiss. "I'll offer you the same deal," she whispered pulling away from the kiss, but not for so long. She leaned back in for another kiss, her fingers curling up in his hair while her other hand cupped the small of his back.

He moved the arm he had been propping his head up with and worked it around her so he could hold her properly; both arms around her tight and secure. He pulled her up a little so that she was leaning on him, and he could look up at her adoringly when she started to back away.

She liked this vantage point. She could gaze down at him and shower him with kisses if she wanted. And she wanted. She ran her fingers over his temple, running along the strands of hair there and then back to his forehead. She smiled at him between kisses, though as the morning grew lighter outside she spent more time with her lips on his than simply looking at him.

How are you so amazing? How did I get so lucky?

She sighed happily and continued bruising her lips on his.

“I’m getting sleepy,” he confessed into one of her kisses. “But I don’t want to move.” He had been fairly well-behaved, all things considered. He very much wanted to grab her tight, press her into the mattress and explore her unhindered, but more than that wanted her comfortable, happy. And her sweet kisses were such splendor, tingling just so all the way through him. He hadn’t been able to help that his hands started inching down her back, but he managed to stay fairly decent. As it was, he was holding her low on her hips. Still safe on the outside of her pyjamas though, and that’s where they’d stay, dammit.

“Gonna nap on me?”

"Me either," she said nuzzling into his neck. She fought to stifle a yawn now that he was mentioning being sleepy. She took a little breath and shifted just enough to lay beside him, pressed tight to his side. "I'm happy here. If you're cozy?" She hoped he was; she didn't want to think about the possibility of him leaving, losing his body warmth, his gentle embrace, the chance of waking up next to him.

“Snug as a bug,” he assured her, breaking into a dopey grin and curling into her slightly. He swore suddenly, and rolled away from her to stop the car keys from digging a hole in his thigh. He fished them out of his pocket and tossed them toward the end of the bed, snuggling back down a little sheepishly.

"You're going to get stuck here forever if you can't find those in the morning," she said with a sleepy grin. Then she slipped an arm around him and tried to slow her breathing enough to actually sleep.

That wasn’t a great terrible threat, so long as it meant being stuck there with her. And even if it were, it wouldn’t take terribly long to walk home. “Mm,” he responded half-assedly, and buried his face in her hair. “Punch me if I snore.”

"I'll just snuggle all the snores out you," she threatened and promptly fell asleep.

“‘kay,” he mumbled, already most of the way asleep himself.

Some time later he awoke with a start. He’d been dreaming about flying (as usual) and been attacked by a low-hanging cloud. He opened his eyes to find that it wasn’t a cloud; he’d just inhaled a big breath full of Abernathy’s hair.

Abernathy slept through this little incident, but she awoke some time later with the sun slanting through her semi-closed blinds and her roommate giving her the stink eye. Abby shrugged at her and the girl picked up her books and left, though she banged the door shut. Abby looked to Shy and hoped he wouldn't wake up to the other girl's rudeness.

He did, but that was only because he’d woken up before and was only dozing now. He had missed the stink eye, at least. “Morning, sunshine,” he groaned, throwing an arm over his face to block out the light. “Sleep well?”

"I did," she replied a little hoarsely. She needed a glass of water and probably a shower before she went anywhere. "You?" she asked flopping back on the bed next to him.

“Like a log.” It was how he rolled. “Ditching the keys was a top idea.”

He braved a peek under his elbow at her. If she stayed just like that, she’d block that nasty shaft of light trying to burn out his retinas. “What time is it?”

"Disgusting o'clock," she replied, but looked to her alarm clock. "9:40," she amended with a groan. She tried to never wake up this early, though her earliest Tuesday/Thursday class was at 10.

“Urrgh. That is an indecent time.” He rubbed his other hand over her side. “Need me to clear out?”

She leaned into him feeling silly and still not quite awake. "Unless you want to," she sighed. "Too bad you didn't bring your shoes, silly boy. I'd treat you to breakfast."

He grinned dopily. “Buying me off like a proper whore. Niiice.” That earned her a sleepy squish. “You could go like that, and no one would even notice I wasn’t wearing shoes. All attention elsewhere.”

She blushed at him and tried to turn away in his squishy grip. "You're not a proper whore," she replied tartly. "You're not clean shaven enough." Then she stopped struggling. "No way. Not going out in public like this."

“I could be a whore for the low-standards market! Discounted because of my fear of sharp objects. Ooh, marked-down prostitute, now that’s a sexy career path.” He shrugged at her with a smirk. “Wait ‘til finals week. You’ll be running to the cafeteria and back like that without batting an eye.”

"It's not finals week yet," she pointed out. She poked him in his chest. "And if we're going to date I ban you from being a prostitute." Though they'd only been out a few times, she was already considering him her boyfriend. "Such an unsafe profession."

He puffed his chest out to meet her finger, then squashed her closer so he could plant a kiss on the end of her nose. “Well, if that’s a sacrifice I have to make, then I guess I can deal with it. Gotta keep my lady love happy.”

“I’ll send out a mass text later. ‘Sorry customers, take your perverted business elsewhere’.”

"And no massage parlours," she added with a squirmy giggle. He'd called her his lady love. Then she pushed away at him in mock horror. "You're already? You've been..." She turned her head, placing her arm over her eyes. "No. It can't be. I can't be falling madly in lust with a filthy whore."

“Filthy costs extra,” he teased, prying her arm off her face to layer a trail of kisses up her shoulder. “... wait, you’re falling madly in lust with me?” He grinned wickedly, and nipped at her arm. “That’s decidedly unladylike of you. And I kinda like it, not gonna lie.”

She couldn't decide if she was swooning or dying of embarrassment. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm never very ladylike." Then she leaned to place a shy kiss on the underside of his jaw, and another just below that on his neck. Then to address the other part of that sentence. "Maybe," she replied.

“I’m never very ladylike either,” he confessed, semi-seriously. “You would have noticed.” He grinned blissfully at the feel of her soft lips under his chin, but managed to hold back from nuzzling into her then. She probably wouldn’t appreciate getting a beard rash. “Well, except on Halloween. Then I’m a perfect lady, and I won’t hear otherwise.”

"I'd say you can peruse my wardrobe for your costume, but there's no way you're getting into my pants," she teased. She giggled and kissed him closer to his lips, pulling away any time his lips got too close to hers and then darting in for another quick kiss just near them.

“Oh burn. And-- oh, tease! Dirty tease!” He wrapped his arms around her more tightly and rolled them both towards the wall, sneaking in a kiss to her lips while she was momentarily disoriented.

"You liked it," she replied and then darted in for another kiss to the lips. "I can't very well tease you when I don't really want to hold out." She was blushing again because she'd only meant kisses, but their position on the bed suggested otherwise.

Shy grinned into her kiss, and nipped gently at her lips. “I did like it.” As well as her not wanting to hold out and deprive him of kisses. “You know what, you can be a dirty tease all you like; I’ll totally put up with it.” He kissed her again, quite smitten.

"Good to know," she replied, smirking into his kiss.