The ride back from semi-finals was awkward. Heavy awkward. Like if a sockapella accidentally jizzing in their performance sock awkward. Heavy.
Damn it all, but where had that Footnotes guy come from? She'd never heard of him; he wasn't in any of the previous performance videos Amy had watched online. Everyone'd worked so hard and now all of it was for nothing.
Most of the Bellas looked exhausted, energy drained out of them. If they weren't sharing a bus with the Trebles, Amy would be right about to pass out along with them. If only every single word out of Bumper's fat face wasn't making her so angry she could rage spit.
"Really very sorry for you ladies, really. I mean that. Who knew that doing the same old, tired routine wouldn't wow the judges? Huh? I mean, seriously."
"Oh, whatever, Bumper. Your little three-point victory. What? Getting a little rusty?" Aubrey snapped.
"What was that, Barbie? I'm sorry, I couldn't hear over the sound of my large, shiny trophy."
That dicklick. He was such a jerk; she bet even his own family didn't want to be around him. Just wait. She'd wipe that self-righteous smirk right off of his face. She still had those pictures of him in his Scooby Doo pajamas set. Let his large, shiny trophy talk him out of that.
"Oh, well. There's always next year, am I right? Except for you, Aubrey. And Chloe. But don't worry. I'm sure there are some lovely community theaters just waiting for you."
Just wait. She still had that bit of burrito sticking to her ear. Her hate fire was burning strong.
The Bellas slunk away from the bus like sad crocodiles. As soon as most of the Bellas were out of earshot, the Trebles surged up. Whooping and shouting like arrogant little fartquads.
A few of them had even formed some sort of man-huddle where they jumped up and down and thumped backs and probably slapped dicks. Amy didn't know. She'd never been part of a man-huddle before. She turned and walked toward her dorm.
Just as she was rounding her final corner, an arm slipped around her shoulder.
"Hey." His lips pressed up against her ear. She could still smell burrito on his breath. "Where are you headed so quickly? Party hasn't even started, baby."
She pushed him away. Her shove shook him a bit; he stumbled some before he regained his footing. He had an annoying habit of acting like he was a little drunk every time he was with her. Idiot. As if she hadn't just been next to him all day. She'd kick his ass right here if threatening him didn't always seem to lead to kissing him. Shoving him up against the brick wall by the strings of his stupid hoodie, pinning him there as she put her hand up his shirt, roughly kneading his ugly man breasts…
I thought you were supposed to be getting away from this, Amy. The Bellas were about getting rid of Patricia.
She snarled into his face "Don't bat your eyelids at me like some 19th century prostitute. I can still remember today, jerk shit."
"Hey, it's not my fault you Bellas decided to barf out the same borefest as before."
She walked up to him until they were so close his eyes crossed trying to look at her.
"You really think that's what this is about?"
"It's not about whether Aubrey deserves an Oscar for faking sanity."
She took a deep breath and then let it out right onto his smug face. "Why isn't my jacket already open, Bumper."
That threw him off. His mouth snapped shut. He looked down at her top.
"Well, if you're looking to fix that…" He waggled his eyebrows.
"…is it because I got hit by flying Mexican food?"
The smirk slid off his face. She stalked away from him to open her building's door and right when the door was about to slide shut his hand streaked out and snatched it back open. He trailed behind her as she made her way to the elevator, talking about how it wasn't personal, just showing off for his boys, surely the Bellas had extra white shirts stashed around somewhere since their outfits hadn't changed since 1980.
(They did have extra white shirts. Amy was wearing one during the performance. But she knew Bumper had been too swept up in victory and gloating to remember that. She also knew that the longer she stayed silent the more Bumper would talk himself into a frenzy. He couldn't stand the sound of silence. By the time the elevator ride was over Bumper was chattering so quickly and nervously his words were running together. Good. She needed him desperate. He needed to pay)
"C'mon, Amy. Your roommate already left for spring break. Think of what an opportunity you're missing out on. We could be as loud as we want. You can top. Or bottom. Whatever. I'll pay for a new shirt."
She pushed the door open and he actually craned his neck to look in. Honestly, the stench of his desperation was choking. Sure, Bumper, you've been with tons of women. You get to have sex all the time. Everyone knows only true nymphos kiss like thirteen-year-olds, all open mouths and waggling tongues. Like maybe if he could physically suck her face then he wouldn't feel so lonely any more.
She tried not to overthink on Bumper too much. It made her feel sad for him. And feeling sad for him was going to make it a lot harder to give him exactly what he deserved.
He hesitated at the door for a second after she walked in before hurrying in behind her.
"Honestly, what do they cost, five dollars? Can't be that expensive. Lord knows you Bellas aren't getting sponsor-"
She didn't want to listen to another idiot word. "Get on the bed, Bumper."
"…What?" His head whipped around to her.
She leaned up into him, putting her mouth right next to his ear.
"I'm gonna finish you like a cheesecake."
If she weren't so spit inducing mad at him she'd be impressed by the backward spring he did onto her mattress. His fingers grappled with his belt-buckle until he all but wrenched it off of his body and to the ground. Before she'd even undone half of her jacket's buttons, he was wrestling with his jeans and then flinging them across the room, as if their mere proximity might affect his chances of getting with her.
She left her top untouched and slowly removed her skirt. When she was done he'd removed all of his outer clothing, sitting perched up on her bed wearing nothing but Loony Tunes boxer shorts. Let him wait. She wanted him to stare at her new grease stains.
She reached under top and removed her bra and camisole without budging her outer shirt. When she was finished she stood before him in nothing but the dirty, stained top. Bits of it were still wet from the grease juice. The smell wafted around them.
Bumper was staring at her with wide eyes, his legs dangling off of the bed. He looked wary, confused, but painfully, painfully turned on. The Bugs Bunny on his shorts was already tenting and she hadn't even touched him yet.
When she stood in front of him on the bed he spread his knees instantly, silently urging her to meld into him. She let her lower half slide into his, pressing against his cock. This close, she could hear him stifle a groan.
She leant her head in so her mouth ghosted over that little divet of space between his ear and neck that made him buck every time she sucked it.
"I want you… to suck my breasts."
He obeyed her so quickly she almost laughed. Guys like him always got off on getting bossed around in bed; all that cocky attitude and posturing about sex and still they were always so relieved when someone else took the reigns. His hands were at the bottom of her shirt, tugging it upwards. She grabbed his hands in hers.
"No. Leave the shirt on."
He licked his lips "Suddenly self-conscious, Amy? You know you've got nothing to hide."
"No. I want you to suck my breasts, and leave the shirt on." His fingers froze on her top.
"…Amy. C'mon. Lighten up. It was just a joke." His fingers started to reach toward her shirt again; she held his hands tighter.
"It's this or nothing, Bump." She popped her 'p'. "You throw the burrito, you gotta eat the whooole enchilada."
He looked down at her breasts. Then back up at her. Back down to breasts. Up to her.
"Besides, I thought you loved these things."
"The burritos or your really, very soft breasts?"
She cocked an eyebrow.
His eyes flicked between the two once more and then he seemed to make up his resolve. He scooted farther down on the mattress until his face was only a little bit higher than her breasts. Licking his lips, he dove in.
One hand grabbed her breast and lifted it up closer to his mouth. His teeth closed around her nipple and sucked. Even through the fabric and layers of greasy, old Mexican she could feel the wetness as his tongue pressed against her labia, licking and sucking as though her breasts were the most important things in his life. He switched over to her left breast, leaving a hand behind to still fondle and caress the breast he abandoned.
"You're barely touchin' 'em. C'mon. Lick harder."
Bumper was now practically slurping her breast, his tongue lapping at them ferociously as he sucked them with a mouth so wide she was amazed she hadn't heard his jaw click.
She shifted up onto the mattress and he scooted along with her, scootching up until they were both fully spread across the bed. He kept mouthing her breasts; craning his neck so hard she could see his tendons. His erection pressed firmly against her crotch.
Excellent.
She smiled down at him and then reaches down and pulls of her top. He actually moans when he sees her fully exposed chest. She lowered herself down so that her whole body was pressing against his, putting pressure and heat on all of his most sensitive spots. She starts kissing his chest, sliding down. Occasionally she bites and he thrusts his hips against her. He tries to do a small one after every big thrust, like he planned it out and meant to buck his hips up, but she's pretty sure it's as controlled as Aubrey barfing all over the stage.
When she reaches the top of his shorts she trails her mouth down to the band and uses her teeth to pull his boxers lower. He groans at that—loudly—and uses his hands to push the shorts the rest of the way down and off.
She starts peck-kissing her way down and then stops, lips poised right over the head and just breathes, wet-hot air steaming onto his dick.
"Oh, God. So good, so good. Mmm. Can you blow my whistle, baby? Huh?" His words fade off as she slides her lips right over the head, her tongue teasing at the slit before pressing, flattening against his dick and tasting the precum that's gathered there. Her lips press farther over her teeth and she moves her mouth farther down his cock, sliding slowly so that every millimeter feels like a mile. The sound of his short, sharp breathing fills her head and when she starts to slide her head up and down in tandem with the hand she has wrapped around the lower part of his cock, he moans out Amy loudly enough she's sure her RA can hear him.
She licks the underside of his cock and then it's right when she wraps her lips back around the tip of his cock she hears the noise. A sort of low level keening building in duration. He does it twice and then right when she knows he's on the very edge, she stops. Unwraps her lips, pushes herself off of him, and then sits back and stares at his face.
It takes a while for him to open his eyes. At first, he stays frozen in his 'O' face; as if he literally cannot comprehend that she's not there. His whole body is still completely tense and when he opens his eyes he looks betrayed. Confused, and agitated, but mostly betrayed.
Good. Let him know how it feels.
He tries to sit up but all of the tension seems to drain out of his upper body at once and instead he flops back helplessly against the mattress. His penis, on the other hand, is still completely erect.
"What…why…" He's still trying to catch his breath. Amy imagines it must be difficult with so much blood away from his lungs and head.
"Something wrong, Bump?"
"Why did you stop?!" His perfect voice cracks on the last word.
"What? You…thought we were gonna finish?"
"What? You crazy… why would we start if we weren't gonna…"
"I don't get off people who throw food at me at high velocity."
"Amy…Amy, please. I already apologized for that. Please. C'mon."
She snorts. "Yeah, sure. Except—wait, no, you didn't."
"I did. I said I'd pay for a new one. Okay?"
"In Australia, 'pay for it' is not 'I'm sorry'."
She stared him down. Honestly, she was a little impressed. His erection hadn't flagged in the least since they'd been talking. Still completely hard. Made a girl feel good, at least.
"Hnggh. Okay! Fine! What do you want me to say?"
"I want you to say…" She leaned down and breathed onto his cock. "'I'm sorry, Fat Amy, for throwing greasy Mexican food at you. It was rude. I am a douche. You are a beautiful angel and I should lick the ground your feet walk on.'"
"If I licked the ground your feet walked on I'd have my tongue pressed against the floor of every McDonald's in Australia. C'mon. By the time I say all that I'll pass out."
She leant down and gently licked the side of his cock with her tongue.
"Hnnnnnnggggghhhhh! Fine! I'msorryAmyforthrowinggreasyMe xicanfoodatyouitwasrudeIamad ouche."
"You forgot the end."
He huffed. How his face could get that red with his cock still erect was probably a medical marvel.
"YouareabeautifulangelandIsho uldlickthegroundyouwalkon."
Amy smirked. Then she lay facedown on the bed.
"Wait. What're you doing? I thought we were…finishing."
"I just need one itsy bitsy little thing first."
"No. No. I've already apologized. Okay? I'm through with this." He reached down and started to grab his erection with his own hand.
"If you finish yourself off I swear to God I am never touching you again. No late night visits. No lunch breaks. No groping in the library. Nothing."
It really must've been a while for him before she came along. He stopped instantly.
"…What do you want me to do."
"Get behind me. Right in between my knees and my ass."
That idea must've appealed to him; he shifted between her much more eagerly than before. She could feel his eyes on her ass.
"Mmm." He started caressing her cheeks between his hands. When he spoke next it was in his 'suave' voice. "So. Whaddya want me to do now?"
This time she chuckled.
"Lick my ass."
His hands leapt up from her ass like they'd been burnt. "No. No. NO! How could you even…that is probably the grossest thing I have ever heard. I'm not doing that." He started to pull himself up.
"You're choice, Bump. But spring break's coming. You can either spend it having sex with me… or all alone. Like every other holiday."
Bumper stopped moving away from her. More than that, he stopped talking. His hands dropped down and tightened on her ass. She was surprised. She'd expected him to at least get off the mattress before he changed his mind. Behind her, she heard a deep breath. And then Bumper was breathing onto her ass.
"…Just…just don't let any of the Trebles know about this, okay? Or the Bellas. Or anyone at all."
"Make sure no more Mexican comes my way and we'll see."
He breathed out. And then a slightly moist poke for a fraction of a second before nothing.
"What was that? Don't just dab it like a B Harmonic. Lick it like a rent boy."
Before 'rent boy' was all the way out of her mouth a long, smooth wetness spread over her cheeks.
"Unnggh. Again. Again. I want you to lick the whole thing."
He slides his tongue back over her ass, getting bolder with each stroke. She can tell from the way he's holding himself up his erection is pressing into the mattress. He licks it all and by the end he's putting almost as much enthusiasm into it as he did into her tits. He even sucks it a couple of times. When every inch is moist, he pulls back and looks down at her hole.
"…Amy? I really don't want…I mean; I don't know when the last time you showered was. So…"
"No. No. There's no need for that. Don't worry about it."
He breathes an audible sigh of relief.
"Now then." She rolls over and then links her legs over his and flips him down hard onto the mattress.
He's pinned beneath her and she bite-kisses her way back down to his neglected penis. She doesn't tease this time, just wraps her lips around it and starts bobbing up and down, one hand making up for the parts of his penis she can't reach with her mouth. She hums, moans, licks. Right when he's back on the very edge, she takes her other hand and lightly tickles his scrotum with her nails.
"Hnngh! Urggh! Oh! Oh god!" Bumper starts wildly pounding the bed with his fist, in warning she guesses. He lets out a strange half moan/half scream and then bucks into the mattress so hard the returning impact bounces him enough that he ends up halfway sitting, looking down into her eyes as she pulls her head back and cum hits her square in the chest.
They're both breathing heavily, staring into each other's eyes with a startling intensity.
Bumper breaks the moment first, reaching down to grab a sock off the floor and then awkwardly attempting to clean off the cum on her skin. She takes the sock from him silently with a mumbled "Thank you." His returning "You're welcome" is rumbled and hard to hear but the courtesy's still there. She kind of wishes it wasn't.
She drops the sock to the floor and then rolls over onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. Bumper stays in his half-seated position but shifts, just slightly, to take a look at the clock.
"Well. It's past three." He pauses and she can almost see him gathering up some fake confidence "That's way too late to go back to the house. Donald and everyone would all wake up. It's your own fault, since you're so against quickies; I'll have to stay here tonight."
He's constantly coming up with reasons to stay over: he has a lab in the morning and her dorm is closer; if he leaves right now a partier could see him exiting her room and then what would he say; Tuesdays/Wednesdays/Sundays at anytime o'clock are the most common time for rapists/murderers/kidnappers in America and it's not his fault she didn't know that; he tore a quad while they were having sex and now he has to rest up to avoid permanent injury. The list goes on.
She thinks he just doesn't like being alone.
Later, she lies awake wrapped in his arms. He clings to her tightly, clutching her like some long lost teddy bear. He always sleeps like this; finding ways to press up as close against her as he can. Sometimes he pretends to roll over in his sleep. Most of the time he waits until he thinks she's asleep and then cuddles up to her. In her darker moments—the ones where she really, truly hates him—she considers making taking a picture.
Hey, everyone, look at this! Look at cool Bumper, tough Bumper! Big man on campus! Doesn't he make such a cute little cuddle monster?
But then she shifts her position just a little and he makes this little whimper noise in the back of his throat and pulls her closer and for once she just doesn't have the heart to make fun of him. So for now she's snug in his embrace and that just makes everything so much harder. She wishes he never slept over. Convincing herself that what's going on between them is just mutual lust is so much easier when he isn't literally wrapped around her, holding her like she's something precious.
And fuck it all but she really can't seem to stop herself from overthinking about everything. Her, Bumper, the Bellas, why Bumper hadn't put up more of a fight earlier…
Suddenly she wishes with the kind of passion she normally reserves for hating cardio and fat-free Pringles that she was anywhere but wrapped up in Bumper right now because he's right there and he's got this sickeningly sweet little smile on his face that does funny things to her stomach and shit but she'd forgotten and now she feels like the worst person in the world and he'd started it but she'd still forgotten.
It wasn't her fault, she tried to convince herself. It had been months ago. She'd run into Bumper the second day of winter break and been surprised to see him. He hadn't mentioned anything about staying at school for Christmas.
Turned out, he hadn't known he would be there either. He'd been all set to go home for Christmas break when his mom had called the day before school let out and let him know that she'd changed her mind. She wanted to go on a cruise with her new boyfriend instead. It was going to be romantic.
Bumper wasn't invited.
He'd tried to make it seem like bragging, of course. Yeah my stupid mom's going on a cruise. Heading out tomorrow. Christmas with her is lame even at home; who'd want to be stuck with her in the middle of the goddamn ocean? I get to stay here this year; no parents or annoying relatives; it's gonna be awesome!"
But then she'd gone up to his room in the Treble house a few days later (and it had been sort of nice, not having to sneak around because everyone else was gone) and when she'd walked in he was slouched over his computer and he didn't even notice her open the door. Standing behind him, she looked over his shoulder and saw a whole album of Facebook pictures of some skinny brunette lady and a man who looked like he used way too much spray tan. Tagged 'Troy Alderon' and 'Mary Allen'.
"That your mum?" she'd asked and Bumper jumped about three feet.
"What? Oh. Amy. Yeah." His voice sounded rough.
"Where are they?"
"I don't know. Some beach, some where."
She really wanted to start singing that song he'd pretty much perfectly set her up for, but his eyes looked kind of red and…well, for once it didn't seem like the time.
She started to crane her head a little to get a better look at him, but he got up and started rubbing at his eyes, mumbling about how he was working on some new lasagna recipe with lots of onions so now his dumb eyes were all agitated.
She didn't say anything
And if, later, when they were tangled up in bed together, he held her hips just a little too tightly or clutched her just a little too hard or—afterwards—clung to her just a little too much, she didn't say anything then either.
She'd thought to herself that maybe they'd hit a turning point in their…acquaintance. One where they could be just a little bit nicer to each other. Maybe even admit that—maybe, just a little—they actually liked each other. Just a bit.
But now here they were two months later and he'd thrown a burrito at her. And she had no regrets about making him pay; they teased and poked at each other, that was just what they did, but she also wished that she could go back in time and say something else to convince him. Instead of telling him she'd leave him all alone. Just like every other holiday.
She wasn't going to apologize. It seemed too soft and she didn't want him to get the upper hand.
But she had two weeks of spring break to make it up to him in little ways. She didn't know what his mother was doing this holiday but she and Bumper could hang out. Maybe go to the pool or something.
Right now she was exhausted. She molded her body back into Bumper's and smiled a bit when he unconsciously adjusted his arms around.
Heck, she thought as she drifted off to sleep in her never-sometimes-maybe boyfriend's arms, her dad was pretty big in music back in Australia. Maybe she'd give him a call.