electric tonight
by mirajens
.
.
.
Many things did not work out very well for Jellal Fernandez.
It was something that he'd noticed since he could cognize the concepts of luck and karmic resolution and whatever mambo jambo heebie jeebie he usually liked to wax poetic about. It was his thing, okay? Many would say he was a man too hard on himself and on most days, when he had the gall to swallow the truth, he wouldn't disagree. Bad things just liked to happen to him, probably because he was a crazed slave-driver or a mass murderer or a flat out criminal in his past life and he supposed, he really should have been used to it by now.
But damn, was it easy to feel like shit tonight.
As many good stories start —ones worthy of being told around the Thanksgiving table surrounded by drunk Aunt Martha and even drunker Grandma Hilda et al drunken uncles— this one started with sex.
It was not a well-known fact that Jellal and his amazing girlfriend, Erza, had been trying to build up a decent sex life for months now. What had started as a sweet, pure love in high school had evolved into something, well, more one night during a crazed college freshman party after a bevy of Fireball shots and perhaps a bit of that flasked Pisco Cana had generously pressed to each of Jellal's and Erza's lips and forced to to take a manful swig that talks were made between the couple, a petition for change stated.
"We will start the sexual course of our relationship!" Erza told him, perhaps in a voice louder than it needed to be because Gray from the next seat looked over and chortled and choked into his Coors. Jellal had been excited at the drunken declaration and he'd nodded his head like a bobble head on a dash before he took his lady love's hand and let her lead him out.
The long walk back to her dorm sobered the two of them up considerably. By the time they were sitting on the middle of her bed, slightly sweaty from the summer heat, head still buzzing from the alcohol that was slowly being sopped up by the churros graciously served by the wonderful hosts (or stolen from their pantry, whichever story was preferable), they absolutely had no clue what to do. Retrospectively, they did. Jellal himself would be quick to admit he'd watched many fine video tutorials on this very matter but he was not a handy dandy plumber and Erza was not some housewife with lewd propositions for the hired help so, Jellal thought, he couldn't very well bend her over a kitchen sink and ravish her. A.) He didn't think she would appreciate staring at the garbage disposal of a sink while he had his fun from behind and b.) her dorm room did not have a kitchen sink in the first place. His other... video tutorials ran along that same ideal and really, no raunchy porn sex was going to be happening tonight. Right now, they had the fundamentals pat down: penis, vagina, and if he lasted more than the infamous two minutes, an orgasm mutually achieved. The act of sex was a no brainer. It was the buildup that was tricky.
She'd asked if they should shower first but after a debate on whether or not it would be a fruitless endeavor as they would undoubtedly need to shower afterwards, the idea was vetoed. As a woman who generally hated to pussyfoot, she took off her skirt and panties and suggested that maybe he should go down on her. Her guess on this was as good as his, though perhaps rose-tinted and red hazed and purple-prosed. While she's watched the sex scenes of some daring movies with Mirajane (the pottery scene from Ghost might not have been the most explicit but definitely memorable and heart-wrenching), most of her knowledge came from the steamy erotica literature Levy habitually fed her much like pushers enabled addicts, minus the exchange of cash and double the shadiness of transactions.
Erza guessed she wasn't the only one who had expected this step in their relationship to happen in a more natural way. She'd had dreams of a midnight drive to the beach to stargaze after which lust would take its course, or perhaps even a frenzied make out in the backseat of his 2002 Toyota Corrolla would lead to one thing or another, ending in a steamy handprint on his rear glass much like the love scene in Titanic. Pipe dreams, she guessed. She and Jellal weren't exactly spontaneous people. Their first date took two weeks to plan.
In any case, Jellal had done as requested and it took what seemed like ten minutes for Erza to politely take Jellal's face by the cheeks and drag him upwards. "Thank you, but nothing is happening." Quite disheartening, Jellal would think as they lay side by side staring at Erza's ceiling.
"We have a lot to work on, it seems." he said after he cleared his throat.
"One step at a time." she agreed.
So that was how they had mutually decided to perfect one act before moving on to more exciting ones.
(He remembered fellatio day was quite terrible, though. These days he couldn't help the instinctive warning of "No teeth," every time Erza's mouth ventured downwards, much to her embarrassment and annoyance.)
All in all, it had been a pretty good four months of sexual awakening. Awkward, yes, but any man would be a fool to deny the pleasure of enlightening his lover on The Art Of Handjobs no matter how clumsy. Tonight promised to be good. They had actually accumulated enough experience to put the instruments together in a wonderful orchestra, if you caught his drift. By midnight, once the club scene of Basic Instict had passed, Jellal and Erza were some twenty minutes into foreplay and if you asked both of them, it was going quite swimmingly. At this point, no one was even paying attention to the wonderful sex scene between Sharon Stone and Michael Douglas, and who could when they had the real thing going on.
As far as all their test runs, this was the one that Jellal could say he was proudest of.
"Jellal," he heard Erza murmur against his jawline, a hand pushing at his shoulder. "Condom?"
The cherry tint dusting her nose mirrored his own and he had time to bite back a grin before scrambling to his nightstand and fumbling blindly for the black box of rubbers in his drawer. When his search turned up futile, he took the container and like a panicked alcoholic down to his last gram of wine, he shook the box as if it would magically produce one miraculous packet of Trojan.
The dreaded tone of disappointment sounded from the other end of his bed. "Did you forget to replenish the supply?" Jellal almost didn't want to turn to face his girlfriend but when he did, it was a heartbreaking sight. She looked so distressed, head raised so she could peer at him from between spread knees.
"I could pull ou—"
"No." came her stern rejection. Jellal hung his head. "That is a foolish suggestion and you know it. Do not think with your penis, Jellal. Protection is a serious matter. If I were you, I would stop coming up with stupid ideas you know I won't even entertain and start running to the drug store to purchase some condoms."
With that said, Jellal obeyed with much haste, hurriedly jumping back into his clothes and almost getting his hard on caught in the fly. "I'll be quick." he said over his shoulder, taking one last look at Erza, dejectedly pulling the sheets over her naked body and training her unhappy gaze on the movie they'd ignored.
That was how he found himself making the mad dash down to the common room and out into the brisk autumn night. He wished he had the foresight to wear something more than flip flips and jogging pants, too. The run to the nearest student convenience store was making his feet numb but damn if he wasn't getting those condoms tonight.
It turns out, he wouldn't. Not from this store anyway. The small sign over the metal shutters reminded him that university facilities resumed after Thanksgiving break and fuck, he didn't think he had it in him to break in just for the sake of sex. The nearest 7/11 was on the other side of campus. He didn't have much time, knowing Erza was an impatient woman. By calculating his odds, he surmised his best chance was knocking around the dorms and borrowing some rubbers. Guys would understand.
So he did just that, running back to the male dorms with all his desperation fueling him.
Jellal had never bothered getting to know his neighbors. The need or want never arose to knock the next door down and introduce himself since he was quite happy with having no friends so readily available to bother him when he had homework to pore over, spare time to sleep or attention to spend on his girlfriend. But he supposed it was necessary now, so he looked at the bottom of doors with the light on, knowing that with most students home for the holidays, knocking until someone answered was a hit and miss he had no time for.
The first one bore what Jellal would see much later on in his life, the most poignant factor in altering one's college experience.
A pretty girl Jellal thinks he's seen countless of times answers, wide eyes asking questions before her mouth can. "Yes?" she asked, opening the door wider. "Can I help you?"
This couldn't be right. A man had to own this room. A man with condoms. This was the male dorms and no girl had any business answering the door to an embarrassing situation, not that Jellal had any say in this as he was pretty sure he has a naked girlfriend on his bed right now. But damn it, what was he supposed to do now? A red flush ran from his hairline and disappeared down his coat's neckline as his eyes flickered to the bare name plate on the door under the room number. "Ah, is Dreyar here? If not, I'll just go."
The girl smiled brightly, her big blue eyes forming into lines above her cheekbones. "Don't be silly. Come in, I'll get him for you."
Things happened too quickly for Jellal's calm mind to process. The girl (apparently named Mirajane if her hundred mile and hour introduction was anything to go by) dragged him inside by the arm, had him sit and bellowed for her boyfriend. Her incessant knocking on the bathroom door was cut off when Laxus (so that was what the L of L. Dreyar was) yanked it open and barked out a what. Thankfully, he was dressed enough that Jellal felt no need to pardon himself or vomit but soon enough, he was taking back the first condition when he found himself joined at the table by the couple. There wasn't a study desk, but it seemed the poker table they gathered around served a multitude of functions. By the time, Jellal was done explaining his plight in what he hoped was a tone that didn't sound too mortified, Mirajane sported a blush softer than his own and Laxus was choking on laughter.
"Let me get this straight," Laxus waved his hands in the air as if to clear it, "The store didn't want to sell you any rubbers so you've been knocking on every door to borrow some?"
"Surely you understand my desperation." That wasn't quite the story Jellal had been telling, but whatever. "And my hurry."
"Right, right." Laxus reached over to pull an impressive strip of about a dozen gold Magnums that had Mirajane huffing her chagrin. Jellal caught the bunch from an underhand toss. "Happy Thanksgiving and all."
Jellal left the room with barely muttered thanks before sprinting back down to his.
In vain, it seemed.
His bed was now empty save for a note on his pillow. Erza left, she got bored, she hoped he had the hindsight to be prepared the next time, Happy Thanksgiving, she would call him when her disappointment wore off.
She never did spare his feelings when she felt condescending enough. He sat on his bed, her scent and heat still lingering on his sheets and willed himself not to feel so bad for himself.
Well, at least they had an impressive supply of gold snakeskin for the next time.
note: why is this allowed pls take this away from me