Twice the Trouble
"I'm sorry. I can't… you know…so soon after. I need a minute."
He rolled off her to lie on his back, and stared at the ceiling of his quarters.
She propped herself up on one elbow, pressing the full length of her semi-clad body against his side, and confidently traced her fingers across his smooth, hairless chest.
"Well, we've got plenty of time, haven't we? I'm not due back on duty for hours, so how's about you just get a little creative here until you're ready?" she purred. Some of the heavy eye make-up had smudged down her right cheek, and her hair had fallen across her face. She pushed it back behind her ear.
He turned his head to look at her and couldn't help but notice the absence of the dimple. Again. That made three times now he'd found himself looking at her cheek, trying to suppress the rising feelings; first of confusion, then of disappointment and finally of panic.
Other than that, it had to be said that her body looked the same. He doubted whether it would feel the same though.
Guess I'll never know now, will I? It's not like she's going to keep this to herself.
Not that those thoughts had been enough to stop him, had they? Even after he'd realised.
It had been her idea for the three of them to stay in costume for a while and take some of the props back to his quarters. Her idea to have a few of those cocktails. His stomach churned a little just thinking about them. And the blindfold, that'd been her idea too, come to think of it.
True he'd made a false assumption right at the beginning, but part of him must have been suspicious. He'd just let her lead, and boy, did she like to lead…that in itself should have been enough. But by then it would've been kind of hard to stop actually. Not that he'd tried….
So, this is where they'd ended up.
She looked at him expectantly, with one slightly raised eyebrow. Rather than take her up on her suggestion, he rolled onto his side and sat up, shaking off the fake handcuffs he realised were still dangling from his wrist.
He needed to get himself together. He needed to get her out of here.
He rested his head in his hands, running his fingers through his thick black hair.
He really needed to get himself together.
Suddenly all too aware of their state of undress, he fished his boxers off the floor and slipped them on. She seemed unmoved, and continued to lie there, with the costume still open down to her navel. When he looked up he tried to keep his eyes above her collarbone, away from all the creamy white skin still offered up to his gaze.
So close to the body of his recent fantasies. Too close to refuse.
He should've guessed she'd be the one who would really get into character and want to take this as far as possible. It seemed so obvious now. When he'd felt those soft hands pulling him down onto the bed, he'd thought it was just too good to be true.
And yes, he realised now that was exactly what it had been.
Through the cocktail-induced haze, he'd heard the swish of the door, just before she engaged the privacy lock. She had got to work on him straight away; she wasn't one to waste time.
Her voice brought him back to the present.
"What's wrong, did I torture you a little too much? Thought you weren't going to crack? You through being my puppet already? Shame, you made a great slave."
"Look erm…"
He almost called her by the wrong name again. Not so sure she hadn't noticed this time. He thought he'd gotten away with it the first time, when they'd been locked together covered in each other's sweat a little while earlier.
"Look, I think…. What I mean is I think... there's been… a mistake."
"Look Buster, it was just a bit of fun! You need to lighten up. You weren't doing too badly just now, you know."
He smiled weakly and felt his face flush. She moved to a sitting position, then slipped her arms back inside the armholes of the ridiculous costume and adjusted it to cover herself up. When he didn't say anything else, she sighed loudly and trailed her skirt into his bathroom to fix a little of the smudged make-up. When she came out, she said,
"Will you just stop stressing? I'll see you later", kissed him casually on the cheek and walked out of the door.
He stayed sitting, elbows resting on his knees, head still held in his hands.
Why on earth hadn't he put a stop to it sooner? He'd always been so smug about being able to tell them apart! Couldn't believe he'd gotten himself into this much of a mess!
He knew he should've stopped it as soon as he'd realised, and then just put up with his friends' inevitable ridicule when the story made its rounds. Now it'd be even worse! Once this got out, which he knew it would, probably by the end of the shift, there'd be a fresh round of innuendo and jokes at his expense.
Ensign Eager; so eager he didn't even bother check it was the right one...
The boy who was just too polite to refuse...
Take you pick...
And what on earth could he say in his defence? Perhaps the best thing to do was to go right now, cap in hand, and just tell her the truth?
But wait a minute... where to start?
Start with the wrong one, then explain to the right one, and maybe he'd still be in with a chance?
He started to try and compose his opening gambit in his head.
Even he could see that it was going to have to be pretty good.