Author Notes:
Welp, this was in my brain and now it's on the internet. Uhhhh, a few notes for you dear reader:
This fiction will contain sexual content as well as smoke, drink, language and any other fun stuff adults do so if this is not your cup of tea, I suggest you make like a dolphin and dip. Everyone is more or less 19+ and bein bad kidz. I don't describe any particular hair or eye color for Meulin and Kurloz just because when I like to read a nice story, my head canon sometimes doesn't match the writers and when that happens I'm all "aw, this kinda ruins it for me :(" so I just decided to leave it out! I hope that is ok. The only thing I really wanted to modify for fun was their skin colors but it's not that bad, it's mostly for Kurloz to contrast with Meulin. As for the rest of the story, most of this was out of jest in the late night of my spontaneity, which is a factor in this story as well, I guess! And just because I wanted to see this so badly done I said to myself: "You want it done right you might as well do it on yer own!" So, um, yes. Here you are, time for me to leap towards the sun with embarrassment and foolishness. Also, it's perfectly okay to not look up the small details in the story that you're not familiar with because in the end it won't be of any use to you later on. Just continue to laugh at Meulin's confusion because that's fun huehehe. Man, this is going to be long and detailed and weird, bear with me. I might add more chapters but I can't promise anything.
TL;DR Do you ever, like, just wanna sea two interestin characters please each other in a humorous fashion? 'Cause I do.
Ok, have fun! And thank you for indulging me. 38*
Homestuck belongs to Andrew Hussie. I am not affiliated nor do I make any profit from this story.
You only live nine lives.
"Yo, where is the brown? I want to get this party started already."
Meenah's gold bracelets dangled in front of Meulin's face as her finger pointed to their cerulean host on the left side of the couch.
"Go fetch it for me."
Out of the corner Meulin's eye, Aranea's lip curled and her arms folded across her chest.
"We're waiting until everyone else gets here, you know that."
"That's BS. Rad girl is designated driver, Hamlet head doesn't like to drink due to his brain problems and Maryam didn't even say if she was swingin' by or knot."
Meenah chucked softly at her subtle innuendo.
"So be a good guppy and fish it out."
Her hand relaxed, turned 90 degrees to the right and moved from side to side, imitating the elegant speed of a rainbow fish tail. It caused her honey colored ornaments to sway and gleam in the dim lighting of the cube-like living room. Meulin was so mesmerized by its beauty her hands twitched and knew they wanted to delicately claw at it like some curious kitten. But she guessed she was too distracted and didn't notice Meenah had tried to get her attention until one of her long, fuchsia-polished nails flinged her nose.
"Hey Meumix, ever tried VSOP?"
"V.S.O.P? What's that?"
"It's a brandy. I forget you don't drink much. Dag, when did my party become so lame?"
Aranea stood up and headed towards her small kitchenette.
"When I figured out that this 'party' was just an excuse for you to get everyone involved shitfaced wasted so that you can connive late-night hookups and laugh about it later at MY apartment. And how you are going to do that, I wish I knew."
"Word travels fast, sweet cheeks. And I don't even have to say shit to Ampora. You know he's goin to try and bring his flunky group of failjects with him. Speakin of which, I need to contact one of them so we can get the smoke on."
"Ugh, please don't tell me-"
"Don't wanna hear it. He's the only guy with decent loud and reasonable pay. Also, how much are you willin to fork over?"
"So not only are you getting everyone shit face wasted, you're going to ask for contributions for the 'Get Meenah High' charity and actually invite Mr. Creepers? Something tells me this 'end of summer' party is not all what it seems."
"It never is. And hey, when I throw a bangin' senior party at my bestie's house, it's the banginest party there is. Also, what gossip do you possibly think he's gonna spill?"
"True that. Also, I think I will wait to give my answer until everyone else has arrived."
"Wise decision."
Aranea walked back to her navy couch with two shot glasses in one hand and an old fashioned glass filled with brown liquid in the other. Meulin noted that the bigger glass handed to her was a lighter tint. She mouthed a polite thank you and stared at it with no particular emotion. Normally she would have squealed from excitement to try something new but this was completely out of her element; the drinking, the socializing and even agreeing to go to Meenah's party.
Normally on a Friday night she would be huddled up in her faux-fur comforter, re-blogging gifs on Bubblr, watching marathons of her favorite shows with captions and even having the energy to write small, indecent one-shots of her favorite characters. It would be her last year of high school and it would be the last time she could all do something outrageous and fun before she headed out in the world to make something of herself. Meulin was always too afraid before, simply because she didn't have anybody to trust due to her…hearing problem.
No, this wasn't the time to dwell on that. She did have people she trusted, or at least she told herself while she stared at her cup of brown liquor. While her companions were clothed in tight-fitting dresses and heels, complimenting each other's color choices of fuchsia and cobalt, Meulin simply donned a dark green sweater that cut off horizontally so it showed off her shoulders. Her poufy hair was long enough so that people wouldn't notice right away. Her pleated, grey skirt reached down to her lower thighs while green, cotton stockings covered her curvy legs. Black heels that adorned her feet could pass for sexy school girl shoes, but then again, when sexy comes to mind, anything she wore was not very high on her list. Maybe if she was a runaway heir to a wealthy family, she could afford some high end fashion. Meenah did say there wasn't a specific dress code but still, what is somebody came that she wanted to impress?
"Cod, it's like she's a fish out of water. I love it."
Meenah and Aranea were cheek-to-cheek, shot glasses in hand, kneeled in front of Meulin and stared hot laser beams into her very unsure eyes.
"Oh shush."
Aranea moved her hand so Meulin's attention was grabbed and placed on the movement of her lips.
"You don't have to try it if you don't want to."
"No, it's fine! It's not fur-I mean, fair to be the only sober one, right? I might as well have some fun!"
"This is the exact reason you were invited. I knew you would be willin to do somefin new. You go gurl."
Meulin beamed at them and stuck her tongue inside the glass. She expected a horrible taste, but instead her face lit up in pleasant surprise.
"Oh my gosh, it tastes like apple juice!"
"Yeah, we figured you'd like this with a chaser. By the way, a chaser is somefin you mix with a hard drink to make it taste betta. Might as whale educate you so no scrub tries to tail you otter-wise. Anemoneway, Serket knows how to mix her shit. Sigh. If only others can recognize your fine hostess talents."
As if on cue, both hostesses turned their heads to the sound of a shave-and-a-haircut knock on the door. Aranea stood up, sauntered over to the door and scrutined whoever was on the other side through the peephole.
"It's Cronus and Kankri."
"Sunuva…! Who told them they cod come so early?! The clean-up crew only shoals up when I demand it."
Aranea rolled her eyes and headed back to the kitchenette while Meenah downed her shot and replaced Aranea's spot. She opened the door that revealed one teen with a smug demeanor and an unlit cigarette in his mouth while the other uninterested with his arms folded across his red sweater.
"Hot damn! I didn't realize this party would have such a sexy la-"
"You weren't invited."
"Well if you'll only just let me persuade you into-"
"Ok, but, you weren't invited."
"Yes, I understand that, but-"
"Cronus, I really do not understand why I had to leave my privilege sermon to accompany you along a fruitless journey only for both of us to face the same conclusion we could have had back at the apartment. While-"
"Hate to break the upcomin essay short, Vantas, but I would like to thank you both for shoalin everyone great examples of why you both will knot be settin one foot across this doorway. Also where is the third lackey? He's not answerin my texts."
"What? Why're you interested in him, but not us?"
"Cuz he got da bud, Ampora. Duh!"
"Maybe if you let us in, I'll give you some of my grade."
"Ew! Shell naw. I don't smoke mid. Shit is mad harsh on the gills."
"Well, I don't know where he is, so would you kindly-"
"Vantas?"
"…"
"You both are fuckin useless."
"HEY, what's CRACKALACKIN' my rad girl! Oh wow, are we late to the party already?"
"What's good home skillet? Also codn't you have come after I haddock shooed these two low grade losers away from the general premises?"
"Who the FUCK ARE YHOO CALLINng louSERS YOU BITCH-FACED VAGINA FISH GRADHIDJFNIERKGNVZJERNGVJK-"
"Eelmao, calm down tuna breath, how many people can you count? Do I have to pop in an episode of Sesame Street with your favorite countin vampire?"
"FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUKC YUO."
"K."
"Meenah, just let them all in already!"
"NO GLUBBIN WAY, SERKET. This is MY PARTY and I'll CRY if I WANT TO."
"Yeah, well this is MY apartment and I have the right to pour out all this BRANDY IF I WANT TO!"
Meenah turned and faced her cerulean home girl with an expression only to be described as if her favorite gold statue was to be repossessed before her very eyes. Meulin, within the span of time Meenah had been 'glubbing fondly' to everyone, downed her first glass and Aranea, being the good hostess she was, mixed her a second. Meulin was already confused about why nobody was inside yet, so confused she decided to stay and enjoyed her tasty beverage in peace.
"…You wouldn't. Aw man, yeah you would. Pyrope, Captor, get in here. Vantas, Ampora, I have an assignment for you. Find Makara and maybe I will let you in, otter-wise, there's no snowy chance in hell."
"It's offishal, babe."
Meenah puffed her cheeks and furrowed her pierced brow at the lovely fish pun while Kankri no doubt 6lah 6lah 6lah'd in Cronus's ear about all the reasons in the universe why he wouldn't help his roommate with such a time-wasting task. She slammed the door and looked at her party's progress. Well, at least it's better than one person being shit face wasted.
"Who is THIS totally radical chickadee? I feel like I've seen her at school somewhere."
"Yeah, she does but she is deaf so you have to fish for her attention. She can read lips."
Meulin always had this third sense whenever people tried to get her to acknowledge them. She looked up from her half-empty glass to see the girl with the cool, red glasses. She had only passed her by in hallways, never formally meeting. But she definitely remembered Mituna Captor, or 'Hamlet Head', from her freshman disabilities classes. The brandy gave her skin a red flush of color as she grinned and waved energetically to them.
"HeY CANSHE see this? DON'T GET TWOo DRUNK IT'SATRAP THEY'REGOIN TA KUILL YOUY LATr TONItT"
"I just remembered that I need someone to laugh at once I get high. Thanks, tuna-boy!"
"FKCU FKUC FCKU YOU."
"Is that anemoneway to treat a valued hostess?!"
"…I'm sorry."
Meulin giggled, laid back on the couch and merely observed the scene. Things rather turned out better than expected. Aranea had brought filled cups preemptively, which Meulin now assumed had chasers in them, and handed them over to the new guests. She also saw that she had offered them a room to stay since there would be no reason to go home so early if they knew they wouldn't have done anything tomorrow. So Latula agreed to keep an eye on her companion. In Meulin's eyes, of course, she already shipped them in a very romantic way.
Everyone's eyes were at the door once again and Meenah's demeanor changed from slightly amused to devilishly excited with both her hands rubbed together and a sly grin on her face.
"Oh buoy oh buoy oh buoy!"
She opened the door only for her expression to dial back down again.
"Oh, hey, sup Maryam. Nice to sea ya."
"Nice to see you as well. I see your party is thriving marvelously."
"Yeah knot reely, we're still waitin for bud so we can maybe play spades. You know, all the cool stuff seniors do these days."
"I see. Well I came to inform you that I won't be attending tonight because I have other matters to tend to."
"Ooh. Matters to tend to. Share da deets."
Meenah's eyebrows wiggled, indicating her piqued interest.
"Sorry, not this time."
"Whale dag, why didn't you just message me or somefin?"
"I bumped into the insufferable, and prince of hopelessness, and they wanted me to tell you that they found Makara but he was tending to another party happening on the east side so they might be a while."
"What party?"
"The one in which I have to tend my matters."
"Are you searious? What the hell does that party have that I don't?"
Porrim pursed her dark lips and gave Meenah a sly smile through her eyes.
"Whale if that's what you're wantin, I got a delicious, jade lady gettin all sorts of wasted on my couch."
"No, no, it's a little more serious than that. You know me, always needing to know the scoop on teen drama."
"Ooh. You gonna tail me afterwards? Huh? Huh?"
"…Maybe. Anyway, I'll miss all the fun if I dwell any longer. Have fun, you guys!"
Everyone inside said their esteemed farewell towards Porrim while Meenah closed the door again and grimaced at everyone who stood around the table in the center of the living room.
"This is cullshit. Anemone got info on what's happenin on the eastside tonight?"
"Eh, I wouldn't think about it too much babe. Besides, we're about to play spades and I heard you got some wicked skills but I'm sure there not as good as mine."
"Oh, you came to the wrong Serket's house, gamer girl!"
Meulin didn't realize two hours had flown by. It was already ten thirty in the evening and by the time any new people arrived everyone had taken off their shoes and sat on the floor to get comfortable. Shot glasses were piled on a separate table where Meulin kept score since they agreed she was the most trustworthy. They were already two games in and too wrapped up to notice anything else. She, on her third glass, was still functional, but she felt different, and warm, almost too warm. Is this how everyone feels when they drink? Maybe she should try to go home early; they wouldn't even notice. She could put on her schoolgirl heels and sneak off. Or maybe she should just go to the bathroom and take care of this. Wait, what? Take care of? What was even happening? She sat with legs bent and her feet under her skirt. Her hips shifted from time to time and lower body, specifically her loins, tingled with a small flame that the strange liquid had kindled.
"Who the ever glubbin fuck is holdin the little joker?"
Does everyone else feel this way? Maybe they all engage in this type of game to distract themselves from it. Is this how new ships form? Maybe she should drink more often.
"Shuhht your facc and deal your kaurd!"
The rest of her body felt fine. A little humid from her sweater and the tense, competitive air but other than that…
"YOU shut your face, reta-! You know what? Fine! Ace of spades! Somebody try to beat that!"
"If I do, will you shut up about it?"
"What? Serket, how cod you? I want the highest card! We're supposed to be partners!"
Maybe if she focused on her breathing? No, that didn't work. Now she was even warmer. Maybe she should try and take care of this. What's the harm? It's times like these she wish she could hear so she would at least have a chance of being turned off, which sounded awful in her head and made her visibly pout.
"Playing with jokers is so new school. Why don't we dish out ace high?"
"No one asked you, Pyrope!"
"Speaking of questions to ask, why are you and Aranea all blinged up from head to toe?"
"Somebody has to be the bassest bipch in the room, even if there is nobody to influence."
Then her mind wandered to the potential risk of taking too long, or worse, getting caught. Oh so many conflicting emotions! The only .gif she could think of to properly convey how she felt was Ron Burgundy in his glass case.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA I GOTh THE JOKKER BOWDOWNTOWN TO MEEE!"
"OH SNAP! My boo just spilled the DELIRIOUS BIZZNASTY on ya! High five!"
Their hand slap echoed violently throughout time and space but Meulin would have never noticed. She breathed out and looked at the score card. The 'High Bloods' and 'Sick Grinders' were tied. She honestly didn't care about the game. All she felt was awkward, lonely and horny; three of the worst possible combined feels imaginable. Sad kitty was sad, in more ways than one.
"SUNUVA BITCH! WHERE DID OUR STRATEGY GO, SERKET? WHERE DID WE GO WRONG?"
"When you decided to tell everyone what you did and didn't have?"
"Hey! HEY! That is KNOT my fault I am too drunk for common sense right now."
"To be honest, so am I!"
"Aw, it's ok. Don't worry."
Meenah puckered her lips and made kissing noises across the table to Aranea while Mituna scrunched his face in disgust.
"I Belieev you haffta hold up urr endfs of tha bargann."
"Yea yea, whatebber. Give them their point and pour the shot, Leijon. Leijon?"
Meulin was nowhere to be found, but there was another knock at the door to distract them from investigation.
"AW YIS! 420, SMOKE HERB ERRADAY!"
Meulin crept upstairs to the abnormally long, dim-lighted hallway with its royal blue wallpaper that covered every inch. She pried open room after vacant room only to have found and spent a good fifteen minutes in Aranea's lavish, ultramarine guest bathroom. All she debated was whether or not to masturbate. In the end she just awkwardly sat on the fuzzy, covered toilet seat, squeezed a breast here and there and sighed heavily to herself before she played mindlessly with the toilet paper. It just didn't seem respectable to even try. She just flushed, washed her hands, re-applied some cherry lip balm and left. She trudged down the long hallway and let her mind wander to whether or not Aranea owned the entire complex. But she did offer Mituna and Latula a room to stay in…
She almost put her foot down to the first stair before a cold fingers tapped twice on the side of her shoulder. She gasped quietly, frightened not only because she took too long but because she didn't have a good explanation planned. She begrudgingly rotated her body only to be met with a most interesting sight. It must a late guest, she decided; a male's torso was covered with a loose, black skeleton jacket. Her eyes trailed down to see that he had matching, baggy sweatpants and light brown sneakers. What am I doing? He must be pawfully confused. She finally glanced up to a mess of curly hair that framed his long, painted face of grey and white. His full lips looked like they had been sewn shut but upon closer inspection, were carefully applied black lines. His strong cheekbones and jaw protruded, as well as his aquiline nose, but what interested Meulin the most was his droopy, wide eyes. They almost bore into hers with a soft and unreadable expression.
Oh no. she thought. He's hot.
The small flame in her loins rekindled. The more she stared at his strangely comforting face the more he became wood for her fire which cracked and fell on the proverbial rug, setting her whole house ablaze. It filled with something she didn't even think she needed, or would be attracted to, or even thought to give a second look at, but here he was. He then did something so unimaginably and unbelievably attractive that her knees almost buckled and her body tingled from head to toe.
He smiled. A smile so inviting, no man had ever smiled like that to her. Her breath caught in her lungs, eyes wide as saucers with clumped mascara and cherry-flavored lips agape. She could feel the fast thump in her chest and for a moment, nothing else existed. And that's when she knew she wanted him.
Wait, what?
His eyes glanced up and his body turned, which broke the powerful trance he had on her and she was suddenly aware that she was tipsy and that she was in someone else's house and also that it had now been twenty minutes since she had been gone. She tilted her body to see a very drunk Meenah wiggle her brows at the both of them.
"Yo, don't mean to break the love-at-first-sight fest happenin up here but I didn't invite you to just knot let me in on the action. At least let me get to that loud first."
Meulin's blush was so red she could almost swear it could turn green, if that made any sense.
"Oh wow Meu, I'm just messin witchu! Dag, my bad, maybe you need to smoke too."
And then it hit her. This wasn't a late guest. This was the most anticipated.
Meulin learned that everyone had moved upstairs to a vacant bedroom and, to her, it looked like it belonged to a motel; bare bones, with one bed on the opposite wall from the door, one huge window with its blinds closed in the center, a small drawer on the third wall and slender, wooden doors that most likely lead to a closet on the fourth. The beige bedding and carpet did look relatively clean. The most provocative object was a red light bulb in the center of the ceiling, giving the whole space a sensual vibe.
She didn't recognize the other two newcomers in the room. One was short, maybe even shorter than herself with his sweater matching the hue on the walls. The other, however, looked like a 1950's greaser. Everyone sat in a circle, waiting for all three of them to complete it. Sweater guy sat next to Greaser, who sat next to Latula, then Mituna, Aranea, Meenah and…the dealer.
Meulin shyly took her spot between the dealer and red sweater guy, with legs crossed to the side of her body while her arm supported her weight and the other held onto the edge of her now uncomfortably short skirt. Her senses were heightened and she felt the stare of the newcomers but her eyes paid attention to the dealer's thin, long fingers on a clear bag taking apart what looked like clumped up, green plant.
Glasses of liquor had been refilled and the party goers were more amiable with one another. She rubbed her supporting arm up and down as she caught a scent of something strong: spearmint purrhaps? Oh no, her cat puns were returning. A glass filled with brandy and apple juice was suddenly shoved in her face. She jerked her head away only to look at Meenah's gregarious demeanor and loopy grin.
"Go ahead and get fucked up with the rest of us."
She must have drunk so much, her fish puns were wearing off. Meulin grasped the glass and mouthed a small 'thank you'. Being careful with her intake, she imbibed only a fourth of the glass. Who knows what could happen when combined with what they were about to do next.
She saw the dealer take a thin, small, rectangular bag from Meenah's hand and snatch out a pre-wrapped cigarillo. Her eyes paid careful attention as he vertically cut the leaf cover with his thumb nails, like opening a patient for surgery. Next, he wiped off the tobacco from inside the leaf with his fingers in a small trash can handed to him, once again, by Meenah. But she quickly continued her conversation with her best friend, already used to his meticulous procedure. Meulin was too fascinated to look away. Her lips, as did her thighs, parted unconsciously as he licked the inside of the leaf with his surprisingly long tongue and watched as the paper opened itself to him at his command. The last step unveiled his cylindrical creation while he spread the loud evenly, tucked and rolled. It was as if she were experiencing something spiritual, the way he methodically handled something he probably had been doing all his young life. But there was another sensation it gave off, something lecherous and uneasy. Meulin shivered, suddenly feeling cold.
She saw his eyes looked to her as he licked the last edge slowly and flicked his tongue before he gave his attention to his pocket and pulled out a skull embedded lighter. It was the most arousing thing she had seen all night. The flame danced back and forth all around his masterpiece before he handed it to his customer.
"Coddam, Kurloz, you reely oudid yourself this time."
Kurloz.
Meulin let the name sink in, swirl around her head and let it make a cozy home inside.
Kurloz.
"Ok, since everyone put in, excludin Meu because I fuckin say so, I will do everyone the honor of payin for a celebratory blunt and wrappin it myself. You're welcome."
Meenah's inebriated body softly planted itself on the carpet and the crowded room filled with humored faces and heaved chests. Meulin assumed it was because of laughter. She vaguely remembered what that sound was like, yet she did it, more often than not, by herself. She looked around with a small smile and wished she could actually be part of that again.
She sensed Kurloz's intense gaze on her for only a moment before him and everyone else paid attention to Meenah's less than elegant technique.
The first and second blunt were sparked and made two rotations. Some people sprawled out on the carpet or leaned on their arm, or their friends, or even the intensely hued walls. Meulin and Kurloz did the latter and sat farthest away from the circle of oblivious and drunk friends. She played with the hem of her skirt, using an old trick to calm her nerves and the barely touched glass was placed by her side. He, on the other hand had his legs far apart with one bent so his arm could rest horizontally on top of his knee. He angled his arm, took and hit and passed it to his demure acquaintance. She grabbed it from his fingers and inhaled gently. Sure, she wasn't completely pure. She had at least done some smoking in the past but that was neither here or there. But she realized how rusty she was when her small coughs turned violent and raspy. Meenah, with her head in Aranea's lap, moved her arms wide and clapped as loud as she could.
"Whoo! Go gurl, cough that shit out!"
She had completely forgotten Meulin couldn't hear her cheer of support. So she was stuck with a firm hand patting her back while she recovered. Welp, this wasn't a good start, that's for sure. She crawled over to a now identifiable Kankri, and he politely declined while he passed it to Cronus. She guessed this was why Meenah deemed him 'insufferable buzz kill', scooted back to the wall and sighed. She didn't feel any different than before; maybe she wasn't doing it right.
A small tap on her shoulder made her heart beat faster before her head turned towards Kurloz. He smiled again and pointed at his lips while he opened them. For a second she was confused but returned the warm gesture and nodded, getting that he wanted her to do the same, so she did. His lips were her focus while it hit the second blunt before they got intimately close to her own and exhaled. Amazement stunned her eyes and her breath, or rather his breath, caught in her throat before she turned her head and hacked for the second time. He tapped her back once more and grinned, his sclera being consumed by the same red hue that stained the room. He must have gained some confidence.
It was fifteen minutes to midnight, and everyone was high out of their minds. While Kurloz stepped out of the room, most likely answering a business text, Meenah crawled, to the best of her ability, towards a very low-key yet bubbly Meulin. She sat close with a most amused smirk on her face.
"Ok so I know you have to have a thing for Makara cause I mean dag girl, do you sea the way he's been treatin you? I've never seen him give out smoke-kisses! I know he's feelin you, little mama. I mean talk about big pimpin over here. You have him wrapped around your little claw."
Meulin, with little forethought, giggled and answered her.
"…You think so?"
"Oh shit, you do have a thing for him. Wow this is too interestin. Now, if you both want to get together and do whatever that's totally fine with me and Serket. To be honest he's not that bad of a dude. He's actually pretty chill and is the number one salesman around so you wouldn't have to worry about bein associated with no broke ass, no, he's a hustler. And secondly I've been knowin him for a minute but if he does decide to do somefin creepy that you're not comfortable with you know you can always use those powerful lungs and any of us we'll hear you, alright?"
"Okie dokie!"
Meenah only chuckled, more to herself, and crawled back to Aranea while Meulin's eyes fluttered. She was filled with such a strange calm. It washed over her body and she felt her heart rate slow down. There was a joy in its subtle beat and rhythm. She wouldn't be a senior again, she wouldn't be nineteen again and she most certainly wouldn't know when she would party again or meet an attractive face-painting weed dealer. Even though people could possibly live more than one life, it didn't mean opportunities like these passed by even once. She was so caught up in thought that she didn't even notice everyone had left.
Meulin didn't know how much time had passed. There was an introspective reign that controlled her conscious and it let her dwell upon a familiar realization. Whenever there was laughter from a joke or a small whisper that formed a secret, her mind would never again be interrupted by these sounds, or any for that matter. And that small way of thinking had been keeping her comfortable all these years. But for this thought to evolve, take tangible form and dominate every part of her was nothing short of maddening. Even though she heard nothing, Kurloz Makara made every sound imaginable inside her mind and body. He reverberated tirelessly, without end.
She clawed sensuously at her thighs, wrapped in soft, forest green cotton. She licked her lips and thought of his own. Her nipples hardened underneath her bra and the soft fuzz of her sweater. The heat inside her smoldered and oozed like hot candlewax. She had never felt this way towards someone before. It was needy, brash and raw. Spontaneous characters she read in fiction came to mind and she thought about how they were portrayed with this feeling. It would engulf them, take over their senses and they would take part in relieving it whenever the occasion presented itself to them. She always thought, in real life, that this would never happen. She would be more cautious of people, more demanding of the status quo; to get to know someone and make sure they treat her well before letting them in, but it was too late.
He had just come back, closing the only entrance and the only opportunity she had to leave.
She looked around the room again, truly noticing the beauty of the walls and floor, stained with tints and shades of red. A dazzling, saturated maroon lit up every corner while a deep magenta covered the floor and a dark rust tone filled the crevices of darkness high up on the ceiling where she had let her control hover towards to never be seen again. She witnessed him approach her from the corner of her eye, and he looked up to catch sight of what had her so mesmerized.
He moved in front of her and kneeled, her drink captured in his hand as he downed it before he slid it away and put both knees on the floor and rested his weight on his calves and feet. His thighs parted while his back hunched so that his chin matched the height of the top of Meulin's head. A shaky sigh left her body before she moved her legs apart, not caring for what her skirt didn't conceal, and planted her feet on either side of his waist. Her back ached against the unforgiving wall, her arms did little to hold her weight up and her line of sight was practically taken over by his skeleton jacket, just like the first time she had seen him.
Suddenly, they were motionless. Her palms started to sweat and all she could see was that her chest was visibly the only part of her body that moved. Was he having second thoughts? Was she? Didn't this all feel right? She sought his eyes and saw that he had been staring down at her with an enigmatic expression. The ache in her loins turned into a deep throb with back arched from pain and lips parted from the sudden rush of overwhelming power he exuded.
His arm had risen and cold fingertips brushed the side of her neck before they extended onto her skin and curled. He held them there and caressed her earlobe with his thumb. She closed her eyes, shuddered and bathed in the sensation. She felt his other hand on the opposite side as it brushed away her locks and exposed her pallor before moving to the small of her back. Wisps of curly hair tickled her cheek and suddenly his warm lips pressed gently between neck and shoulder. Was she even breathing? Did it matter? Her mouth widened at the sharp pulse between her thighs and the tingle on her skin.
There was an abrupt, kinetic force that had finally consumed them both. He kissed her sternum and left a butterfly trail up to her throat that caused her neck to incline and small, breathy moans to escape. Her legs jerked and the heels of her feet lifted. He nipped and sucked away at her neck while his hands guided themselves across her body; squeezed her sides, roamed her breasts, shoulders, arms and legs. Her panties dampened with an impatient need that wanted nothing more than his affection.
She didn't know if it was her own internal bravery or the influence of various stimulants that caused her not to care. A left hand slid down his right arm and lay atop his. He froze; his lips grazed her skin with a sudden stillness. She moved it between their lower bodies and straightened his long fingers and palm that faced her, with her right hand. Her heart pulsated with eagerness. No longer was his lips placed on her and her pause allowed enough time to open her eyes and lower her head down but not dare meet his half-lidded stare.
She guided him lower, until she could no longer see their hands under her skirt and pushed his fingers up. She tried to not give in to the shock from finally being touched but rather focus on his widened mouth before he made words with their movement.
"Oh, fuck."
His gaze changed dramatically; its passion controlled any caution he had.
"You were all up and waiting all night for this, weren't you."
His rhetorical question caught her off guard. Had she been waiting all night? Was it the drink, the sexual tension of strangers and the forbidden atmosphere that fueled her desire for release? Or did it really begin with him? Wasn't it his tenderness and allure? She bit her bottom lip, looked into his eyes and exposed all her feelings, as if to say 'It was you'. She searched and waited for a sign.
That is, until his fingers pressed into her and moved upward. Her eyes unfocused and her teeth clenched while she drew a sharp intake of breath. Her brows folded upward, similar to if she were about to cry. His eyes scanned her with haste but only found pleasure stricken on her face and he stroked back down. Of course, not knowing just how her moans sound,
She was loud.
His eye slit and his nose scrunched at the sound he thought could very well pierce the mirthful heavens itself. His head moved to the side of her neck and he licked down and up with the tip of his tongue. It matched the motion of his hand and made a conscious rhythm of delirium on her body. His reward was her angled head and cries as high as a cat's mewl. Nothing, she thought, felt more divine than this. She would gasp, lift her legs and gently claw at his back while his left hand pressed on her arched one and his right made small circles on her clit with his fingertips.
Her head moved close to his hair; intoxicated with the piquant smell of spearmint and marijuana. She was lost in his noiseless rapture and gentle technique. It was just too much and she couldn't any more. The negative auxiliary verb was no longer an ability of hers.
"…Kur…loz…!"
Seconds later was her whole body lifted with a surprising amount of vigor. His arms wrapped around her back and her legs wrapped around his torso. He carried her to the side of bed and was lowered vertically by the window, while her lower thigh and calves dangled over the edge.
She kept her gaze on him and noticed his arms on either side of her that held him up. His lips were pursed and his half-concealed eyes pierced hers so amorously. They traveled lower to her neck which started to form hickeys. Her upper arms hugged close to her body, hands spread across her visibly moving chest. Lower his eyes went and noticed her legs spread on either side of him with her grey, pleated skirt wrinkled and hiked up. He licked his lips and she trembled. With a straightened back, he unzipped his jacket and threw it carelessly to the left of the bed. She beheld his lithe frame when he removed his black, form fitting t-shirt with one arm and rotated his neck while the cool air soothed his skin.
Wiry, but muscular, she concluded in her mind. His skin color was much richer than his achromatic face; a honeyed, sun-kissed tan which made her look grey in comparison. She also noted small specks of dark freckles all over his body, like an artist who flicked their paintbrush over the canvas with black paint. A man wasn't without scars and scratches, which faded with time, but a few placed on his abdomen looked a little too fresh…
Kurloz took the focus back to Meulin. He discarded his shirt and made her wandering eyes close to the feel of his cool hands under her warm sweater. She shivered and moaned at the hairs on his arms that caressed her supple stomach. He looked up and waited for permission.
She threw her arms up and angled her back. His hands traveled up and off the sweater came, thrown next to his pile of clothing. Her back relaxed and chest warmed as her body got used to the cool air. She flushed a furious tone of rosewood as he tugged his lips upward, approving silently of he her pale green, strapless bra. His hands, however, eagerly explored the sides of her inner thigh. He took pleasure in her arched back and delighted pitch before they moved to her hips and hooked his fingers in her matching panties. She lifted her hips and they also, were removed with haste and thrown to the pile.
She ceased her breath as he lifted her thighs with his hands and spread them until she was completely displayed. He hunched forward, his lips formed rare words once more.
"Do you want me to make you motherfuckin' come?"
Meulin breathed out a constricted 'yes' and her chest heaved with astonishment. She gathered her breath and tried to answer him properly but he had already kneeled to the floor. His hands outstretched her quivering thighs further apart and it was nothing short of a miracle that she couldn't see anything beyond her skirt otherwise she would have said 'no' out of embarrassment. So instead she swallowed thickly and focused on the dark shade of red on the ceiling.
His pointed tongue ascended in a long, erotic manner. Her lower back curved as she elicited a deep-seated gasp. Her eyes forced shut, hands balled into fists and her face wrinkled in the unbelievable sensation before she breathed out. His tongue darted in and out of her wet, vaginal walls, brows furrowed and paint already smeared across his lips. She muffled her heavy moans with one hand and scrunched a small wrinkle of sheets in the other. She couldn't help it if she cried out too intensely when he flicked his tongue across her clit. He pleased her like this for a minute or two before she felt a hand leave her thigh and lift the fold protecting her pink nub. He nipped at it with his teeth and noticed she twitched out of shock before he sucked apologetically and made sure she used both hands to soften her wanton cries.
One of her hands intertwined in his hair and god was it soft and curly. She massaged his scalp with her fingertips and she felt his moan through his lips. She fluttered her eyes open to see that the skirt had completely exposed her line of sight and his expression, stained with concentration. After a good moment he stopped entirely and her body relaxed, which started to form a light sheen of sweat.
Kurloz stood up and slowly leaned over her, put his hand under her chin so that he could make her face him. She peered at him with cloudy, lustful eyes…
…and he kissed her.
This was the first time his lips ever brushed on hers. It was, to Meulin, the ultimate gesture of compassion and tenderness. Once again, she inhaled his addicting scent and put a hand in his hair which earned her a deep vibration from his throat and his body embraced with hers. They stayed that way, she thought, for a remarkably long time, enough time for her body to cool down and for her heart rate to beat normally. She felt the controlled breath from his nose and it relaxed every muscle in her body. Eventually she felt his lips curve upward and she, seduced by his charm, felt compelled to do the same.
Meulin basked in the delicate and thoughtful position they were in. She knew she had never met this man in her entire life, and yet, in this moment he treated her like she had. Is this how he cares for all his women? How does such a generous man like him exist in such a sexual world filled with selfishness? She knew this was nothing for a hopeless romantic dwell on, or even humor, but still…
It was too late. The existential thought was buried deep into her subconscious as her mouth parted from bliss. His index and middle fingers invaded her arousal and stroked, which caused her eyes to roll back, her hands to claw at his shoulders and her gasps to be soft so only her beloved Kurloz could hear them.
He leaned upward, straightened his body, put one knee on the bed so his weight was supported while the other was planted firmly on the fuchsia carpet. He lifted one of her thighs and his eyes locked with hers for a moment, not needing to exchange words but establish a mutual feeling of yearning.
His fingers pumped leisurely, creating a deep, dark red rhythm inside of her. She bit softly into her finger and moaned, fond eyes never leaving his. They could no longer focus when he caressed her g-spot again. He would never tell her just how much he wanted to be inside her in this moment because he could tell she wasn't taken yet and he couldn't be all up and stealing that when that shit wouldn't be motherfuckin' special.
Her eyes widened in surprise at the sudden change of speed. Her heart raced and each stroke elicited high wails of pleasure and her face scrunched up with such joy and mirth that she decided to move both her hands on either side of her but tried her best to keep her cries constrained. She hissed, sighed, gasped and mewled while he became too horny to function and added a third finger. His strokes became firm, fast and irregular. Her gasps became tiny squeals and her misty eyes tried to make out his expression but to no avail.
"I'm…I'm gonna…"
She furrowed her brows and clenched her teeth. Her spine curved with hands, fingers and toes spread out. An intake of breath was drawn into her burning lungs before Meulin Leijon's sight was immersed in a plethora of coral pinks and rich scarlets. Her fierce orgasm made her ripped the sheets with her strong nails and only the pure white of her eyes could be seen while she spilled and dripped all over Kurloz's hand and bed sheets. Only after a few more seconds of spasms does her body finally submit to relaxation; muscles soothed, shoulders slumped, hips and spine straightened, legs dangled, fingers and toes curled naturally and eyes pulled away from the hue of visual passion.
Kurloz slowly removed his fingers from her and gently released her thigh on the bed. Meulin saw him shuffle with a few pieces of clothing from the corner of her blurry vision but her body still glowed from the after effects and left little room to care about anything else. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, feeling the muggy air lift her bosom and fall in the same soft manner. The cool atmosphere ticked her skin and left small goose bumps. She suddenly felt a warmed hand which lifted her neck and in its place left a small pillow. Meulin scrunched her eyes before she looked up at him and smiled sweetly at his obscure shape under tired lids. She felt his lips kiss her cheek and let the feeling linger before he mouthed to her.
"..I gotta dip…spill my wicked elixir before…here, aight?"
Meulin couldn't help but laugh at her poor decipherment.
"I'm s-sorry Kurloz, I just-"
Hands covered her tired giggles as she swished her hand in approval. He nodded gratefully, trotted to the door way, but stopped dead in his tracks. Meulin looks intently as his frozen shape on the other side of the room as he tried to not make a sound when he opened the door, or so she hoped that's what happened. Soon Kurloz had sneaked off and she was left alone to recover from his fervor.
A few minutes passed by and she felt like her vision had sharpened enough to stand and clean herself off with the bare sheets. Might as well finish what she started. She put on her panties, but took off her muggy stockings and folded them on the nearby dresser, as well as her sweater. She couldn't help it and folded his t shirt, but first inhaled its amazing scent, before she set it neatly on the bed with his jacket. Lastly, she unwrinkled her skirt, balled up the torn and damp sheet, tossed it to the other side of the bed and sat patiently for his return.
And he did, and looked like he smoked five blunts all at once and came back from an overwhelming nirvana. He sauntered over to a still giggly Meulin and ran his hand over his hair. Meulin observed that the paint that was messily smudged from his lips and chin were now properly retouched, black lines and all. He donned his black shirt in no particular hurry. Until he saw the big, imminent stain on the edge of the bed that begged the question: 'where the absolute shuck did that even come from?'
Kurloz dug deep in one of the inside pockets in his jacket and pulled out a small, clear, fizzing bottle. He turned the cap, and proceeded to eliminate the evidence.
"Ooh! What're you putting on it?"
He found the scrunched up sheet as well, spread it out and put a little sprinkle on it. Then he walked over to his curious sex kitten and lifted the bottle to her face so she could read the small label in crude handwriting. 'Emergency Faygo: Moon Mist'
"Oh, I see! That's great thinking!"
He smiled and carefully put the small portion of the fizzy beverage back in the appropriate inside pocket, zipped it up, and put his jacket over his body.
"If anyone gets nosy about those rips, feel free to blame it on me."
"Aww…I couldn't pawsibly do that to you."
Meulin almost forgot about that, and her returning fondness for cat puns. Her sleepy eyes tried to give him an expression of gratefulness. She really did have no idea what she could use as a cover up. Spilled drink makes perfect sense. Rips in a perfectly good bed sheet required more thought.
Kurloz hesitated; an enigmatic expression once more written on his face before he bent down, leaned close to and gave Meulin a final, chaste kiss. She eagerly accepted and put one arm around his shoulder and the other in his hair as if to say 'Thank you.'
He was the first to break their bliss; her hands rested politely on her lap and she watched him as he strolled back to the door and opened it. Kurloz looked back, smiled and lifted his hand in a silent good bye. She did the same and he left with her alone with her thoughts and feelings.
"WHERE THE ABSOLUTE SHUCK DID THIS EVEN COME FROM?!"
"I'm so sorry! We were both drinking so hard and then we decided to mix Faygo-"
"WHERE DID YOU GET FAYGO?"
"He brought it from his parents-"
"HE HAS PARENTS?"
"Everyone has parents, Meenah."
"SHOOSH, THIS IS SEARIOUS BUSINESS. SO WHAT YOU'RE TAILIN ME IS THAT MAKARA ACTUALLY TALKED TO YOU ABOAT HIS PARENTS."
"Well…not exactly."
"Whale then WHAT DID HE TALK ABOAT?!"
"How Faygo was his favorite 'wicked elixir' and then I got too drunk and spilled it and you know how my nails can claw onto stuff when I'm sleeping so I'm really sorry and I will replace them for you and-"
"I DON'T CARE FOR THAT RIGHT NOW. WHAT YOU'RE ACTUALLY TAILIN ME IS THAT HE TALKED TO YOU."
"Yes!"
"AS IN HE FORMED WORDS AND MADE SHRIMPLE SENTENCES TO CREATE THE STRING OF DISCOURSE BETWEEN HIM AND YOU."
"Mmhm!"
"As in he actually said some shit."
"…Uh."
Meenah and Aranea had some of the most stone faced, incredulous expression ever written in the history of stone faced, incredulous expressions, while eating eggs and bacon. Everyone had left in the early hours of the morning. Meenah thought it was poor taste to bail without eating some of Aranea's home sea-red breakfast but since they found poor Meulin half clothed with questionable stains on the bed, it was better to bribe with food from the living room and interrogate than to not have any juicy gossip. Meulin just rubbed her bare legs with one hand, scrunched up in her green stockings with the other and wished that she could have fruit or something else. Her mind throbbed with troubled thoughts.
"Oh my cod tail us everythin."
"I did! I swear."
"You searious? That's all he told you? Aboat stupid Faygo? That is the dumbest shit I've ever heard. And I've heard some dumb shit."
"I'm sure."
"Meenah, let me explain. Meulin, you don't understand. Kurloz Makara, we thought, was actually mute. He's never said one word to anyone to our knowledge, even through the years Meenah and I have 'communicated' to him during his most generous transactions."
"…Oh."
She furrowed her brow in confusion.
"So, how did you guys communicate to him, then?"
Meenah rolled her eyes.
"Voodoo tribal dances, what do you think? We used Bubblr. So you are seain why this is a pretty big reel."
"Hehe, I guess!"
"Yo, this is no time to giggle. No gigglin. What did you even do last night? I couldn't ask anemone because they wiggled out of my grasp and left before I could squeeze any gossip out of 'em."
"Nothing!"
Oh no. Meulin gulped and tried to act normal.
"We just had Faygo shots and fell asleep."
"…That blowhole. That's reely all it takes for him to say somefin? A grey lady and some wicked elixir?"
Meulin blushed, pressed down on her messy hair and prayed that it covered the rest of her reddened skin.
"Ok but now let's be searious some more. Did you guys hook, line and sinker or what? Give me the deets, chum."
"Not really?"
"Knot reely…"
Oh god, what if someone sobered up and told other stories as well? Or worse, decided to post it on Bubblr!? Meulin's back stiffened at the thought. Oh what an embarrassing yarn she just tangled herself in.
"Also since you've now broken his somewhat 'vocal' bond of silence, you're probubbly knot goin to be well liked by his little brother if he finds out."
"…He's got a brother?"
"Oh I sea you guys didn't talk about family life and such. Yeah, he has this creepy ass bro who nobody likes and people clam he was part of a series of murders but like wow the guy is thirteen who is goin to cull, a clown or somefin?"
"I thought he worshipped clowns?"
"Worship, cull, it's all the same when you think about it, Serket."
Meulin had a lot to process. First somebody could have found out what happened and wouldn't tell until later. Secondly, she had been one to actually break more or less years of silence? ((/=`ω´=)/ Super score!) Third, now she has to deal with a potential psycho brother whom she hasn't even met yet?
And her senior year of high school was next Monday?
"But I mean hey don't worry about it too much just go home and sleep all this off. I mean dag I'm sure half of us got laid last night."
Aranea nudged her chatty princess in the ribs while a small blushed formed on her cheeks.
"No talking about sexual relations at the breakfast table, Peixes."
"Fine. 38I."
Meulin held her stomach and told them she wasn't feeling well, thanked her kind hostesses, and showed herself out. She guessed that it was back to blogging about f33lings and whatnot. It was going to be a long year.
"Meulin!"
She whipped around in surprise and faced a rather sleazy-looking Meenah with her head poked out of the doorway.
"You're a terrible liar. Just sayin."
And with that, Meulin, for the last time was left alone with her uncomfortable thoughts. She had a feeling Meenah didn't refer to her sudden sickness.