You Showed up Late, Or You'd Have a Better Part
He doesn't know how he got here, but Peter Barlow is defiantly confused. Things are not quite right. Not at all.
For instance, his new friend and fellow alcoholic should not be wantonly straddling his fiancé. And Leanne really should not be here after all she had just left to take his son to school.
It was entirely possible he was currently passed out drunk, only he did not think he had started drinking again. He did not feel the familiar heavy haze that filled his brain after drinking. No, this time it was just the outside world that was fuzzy and odd.
And it was more than odd that Leanne would be kissing Carla. That's defiantly some kind of mistake. And honestly, when did Leanne get the outfit she's wearing? It suited her, all slinky, purple and suggestive, showing more leg than he was used to seeing outside the bedroom.
It looked expensive, they could not afford designer, not with Christmas fast approaching.
"This is imaginary, isn't it?" Peter mumbles, feeling decidedly uncomfortable. And yet everything seemed so real, he could practically taste the air but this couldn't possibly be right.
"Women have much better imaginations than men, Peter." Carla practically purrs, twisting a lock of Leanne's hair around her finger. She's wearing a very short black skirt and Peter can see a hint of the tops of her stockings. This is defiantly a little more detailed than his average fantasy. His fiancé ignored him as if she could not see past the woman above her.
"So now you're sleeping with your best friend now? I thought it was me you confessed your secret love to the other night." Peter says, eyebrow rising skywards. "What are you doing?"
Carla cackles that dirty little laugh, nuzzling Leanne's throat and winking in his general direction. "Enjoying myself thoroughly." She says voice so low it does things to his insides.
"I don't think this is entirely fair, she's going to be my wife." He seethes a little, not likening being left out.
Leanne, who's so perfect and subtly smoky she almost looked like another person, looks up and smiles at him. She looks like she's been backlit, and her hand moves up Carla's thigh, a fingernail snagging on the flimsy nylon.
"You were never entirely satisfactory, were you?" Leanne asks, cupping Carla's jaw. "Always needing support, and god have you ever thought of someone not yourself?"
That's not fair. He thinks of his son. Only not quite right now.
"You have no idea," Carla complains, kissing Leanne's writs. "He only wants me because he gets off on being the big savior for once."
Peter's angry now "You don't have to marry me." He gestures at Carla. "And what's this, another desperate cry for help?"
"Help," Carla moans, pulling Leanne in for a long, tangled kiss in which hands get caught in hair and Carla is pulled further into Leanne's lap.
Peter gasps, because even though he's aware how wrong it is, and how ridiculously spiteful, they're both…well, he's not made of stone. It's rather like watching fire meet oil and ignite. He's always imagined Carla is on fire, but Leanne's desire simmers over, bubbling up and joining with Carla's in an inferno. She's slid a hand underneath Carla's skirt, snapping the garters and evoking whimpers.
"This is enough!" Peter yells after a long moment or gazing at entangled legs. "Honestly, in polite circles, we don't…"
"Peter," Leanne says with a leer, slipping off her little jacket and revealing a dangerously low cut top. "Lecturing us about polite circles is hardily more than ridiculous, given who's speaking."
"He really is a walking erection, isn't he?" Carla muses, her fingernails scratching over the exposed parts of Leanne's back.
Peter's purses his lips and glowers at Carla, who has found a favorite spot on his Leanne's neck to suck on. Leanne, for her part, is pushing Carla's skirt up over her hips.
"If you want to watch, you ought to take a seat with the peanut gallery." Leanne says, eyes glittering. Carla, flushed, looks up, and Peter can see that her lips are swollen.
"Michelle, please seat Peter with the other one." She orders her employee.
Carla then turns to Leanne, her hands slowly undoing the buttons that keep the other woman's top on. Leanne arches and moans.
"Carla, have you been drinking. Lee, I don't think…" and Peter pauses. Why is Michelle standing there now? He hadn't seen anyone when he walked into the room.
And how did Nick end up on a seat just behind him without him noticing?
"Don't block the view." Nick moaned.
"Why are you watching this?" Peter asks, sitting down as directed be a smiling Michelle.
"Leanne's explained it to me quite thoroughly," Nick says as Carla's fingers disappear between Leanne's breasts. "This is vital to our bar succeeding and her well being."
"Fucking her best mate?" Peter asks as Carla grounds down against Leanne's hand with a moan. "Have you all gone very insane?"
"It's good for business." Michelle says, taking notes as she watched closely.
"Business!" Peter exclaims. Its certainly not part of running a bookies.
"I have to finish my training course." Michelle nods biting the end of her pen.
Peter cannot believe his ears, but they're all watching as Carla arches and screams, Leanne's face buried between Carla's breasts.
"We've all gone mad, haven't we?" He asks, no drink could be this strong.
"You have to see the bigger picture Peter." Nick scolds smugly.
"This is so wrong." Peter says. "So incredibly wrong."
Nick turns his head and looks at him curiously. "You have to wait your turn." He says. "Leanne promised me she'd teach me."
There was no point of hitting a figment of his imagination.
"And this seems normal to you? Watching two women who have turned you down screw in the hopes of scraps if you behave?" Peter seethes.
"I plan to have them both later." Nick says. "But this is how man gets civilized. Learning to follow rules. Delayed gratification."
Peter rolls his eyes and the women giggle like they know it's a lie.
"You are an idiot." He says gravely.
Carla pulls away from a messy kiss and grins at Peter who finds himself stepping forward. Leanne rests her head on the other woman's shoulder and they grin at him like hungry predators.
"Lucky bastard. I've been waiting all day to be worthy." Nick grumbles behind him.
"Come on Peter, we know you've always wanted this." Carla says and bites her lip. Michelle starts to push him forward.
"Oh god!" Peter's eyes fly open.
He is safe, sweating and sitting at the table in his father's house.
"Are you okay in there?" Deidre's voice floats through from the kitchen.
"Bad dream," He calls back. "A very, very odd dream."
He shudders and goes outside for a fag.