~Pug's love and the Deep end~
The model is not impressed—she is livid. She blamed that holy-demon of a councilor—not herself – not the Olympian attached to her hip—just the banshee councilor. "Damn that fucking woman!" Kou hissed in her thoughts; bent over and panting similar to a dog on an extremely humid day.
Apparently—the councilor has an epiphany—a brilliant idea! Not for the entire group – oh no, that would be cruel and unjustified! It was only for the swimmer and the model—that bitch.
Kou grunted when a tug came from her side—the swimmer wanted to continue the damn run. "G-Give me one more minute", she pleaded. Her eyes looked towards the stairs leading to a bridge and the lamp-posts lining the brigde – one she knew well since it lead to her band practice - the dock.
She wanted to drive but the Olympian refused – like hell she was going to argue with him since he's stubborn - worse than a donkey! The model didn't have time to fight with him, she didn't want to be late for band practice; it would only piss off the other members and make the parrot of a drummer sprout inappropriate lies. Hence she allowed him to run—why the hell did she agree to this torture?!
The red-head was indeed thin – but she was no athlete—definitely not a runner at least. She was blessed with a high-metabolism and model looks. Her job did not—did not, require her to run – she didn't even pack the van, the boys did.
Her crimson eyes glared at the steps in anger since they were her next enemy.
Another tug of the hip made her glare move to the swimmer – pissed that she hast to work this hard. "Haru", Kou snapped his name; he continued to jog in place. "Stop it", he tugged the chain connecting them again—in the direction of the stairs—he wasn't going to stop, he wanted to finish his run. "What did I say?!" his rivals sister shouted as she stumbled forward from his force.
He knew this wasn't the councilors' idea—it was his dick of a manager. There is no questioning it - his manager knew the swimmer had social issues and his client wasn't going to make process with his partner on his own.
The thick chain wrapped around both their waist mocked the Olympian—this is his manager forcing him to be social—to get to know the girl, which irritated the swimmer even more. It's enough he took his precious water-sama away—now he's forced to be around people. "Screw that man!" Haru growled as he dragged the dying woman's weigh up the first step.
"Haruka Nanase!" the use of his full name caused him to look over to his dying partner. "Fuck off!"—that didn't sit well with him at all.
The swimmer glared with his bright-eyes before running at full-speed—forcing the model to keep-up with him or be dragged.
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By the time they reached the dock Kou was dizzy—couldn't even stand without holding onto him. The swimmer pushed her away slightly but when she stumbled around, he pulled her closer to his side allowing her sweat to cake his bare arm—grossing the male out. "Women shouldn't sweat this much" he grunted in his silent world.
His eyes wandered to his partner—mouth opened slightly while she panted, eyes closed trying to focus her thoughts, tight athletes sweater opened slightly to see—"Breast" his eyes darted without a worry. "Big bouncy boobs" eyes clouding with lust he watched sweat trail down between the two humps.
He is a breast-man.
She could feel his cold eyes on her body—she knew he was staring at her breast—she wasn't stupid. "You pervert!" Kou thought as she looked into his darkening eyes. "How would you feel if I stared at your junk?" she growled; his eyes alerted somewhere else.
Haru wanted to flea for his perverted-nature—usually he doesn't give a shit, unless he was drunk—but with the red-head he cared—more than he liked. When she made the bitchy remark he was ready to show her who's boss, but, he doesn't.
Kou groaned as she slid open the large metal door to the practice room. Her eyes went to the drummer as she smirked for her arrival—there was definitely something said—something involving sex and lots of it.
"Glad you decided to finally show-up", one of the boys snarled from their bass—not noticing the male next to their lead singer.
"Shut-up", the model growled before pulling Haru to her microphone. "I had a little shit to handle" referring to the swimmer so lowly got her a deadly glare.
"I am not a little shit" Haru growled.
She rolled her eyes while unzipping her jacket. "My bad—you're a much bigger shit", the dandy smile on her lips made the comment even worse.
The drummer blinked for the shirtless man that her old-time friend has next to her—this is the first time in years she's even been this close to another man – one that wasn't in the band. There were many occasion the model would have a one-night stand but that was induced by drugs and alcohol—she never remember in the morning, until she met the sleeping face of a male.
Chigusa smiled as she recalled the models frustrations a few days ago. "This must be the pickle you wish to tickle", she snickered as she stood from her drum-set and made her way to the two addicts.
The singer gritted her teeth for the sly expression on Haru's face—the first expression she's seen him make.
"I don't want anyone's pickle", Kou snapped with her eyes locked on the drummer.
The swimmer watched as the drummer walked around him—inspecting all his assets (muscles). "He's quiet the looker, Kou" she snickered. "What's his name?"
"None of your fucking business", the model spat—knowing the drummers love for men she refrained from telling her the true name of the Olympian. If she knew who he was there would be war—not with the swimmer—but with Kou herself.
Haru noticed the tension in the air—he remembered Chigusa from high-school—she and Kou were best-friends. But, it seemed the opposite now – well from the models look, it seemed more like hatred than friendship.
He wasn't going to ask about it—it's none of his business.
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*Pug*Deep end*
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After her band-practice Haru carried the exhausted model to her apartment. He would have loved to run back but, she fell asleep on a stool during her break—he attempted to wake her up to end her snore-fest, but, nothing worked.
It was clear—he was going to be walking instead of running.
He could feel everything—her breast against his back and sweet breath on his skin—it was driving him bat-crazy. "Kou", the swimmer called in front of her door.
No reply.
"Kou", he said loudly—no response.
"Kou!" Haru exclaimed—nothing
"Kou?!" she blinked for his voice and moaned in response. "I need the key", the model yawned while reaching above the door— breast resting on his head as she strained her sleepy self for the spare on the frame. He groaned when she leaned forward—if she didn't get the key soon they were going to have another problem – one that was growing in his pants.
"I can't reach it" the red-head complained—until suddenly the key dropped from the frame and into the swimmers large palm. "There it is", she grumped.
Haru glared at the key—thanks to its' hiding ability he had to suffer—suffer with a boner for his best-friends sister—one with a big-mouth and an addict past.
Struggling with the lock he felt her arms wrap around his shoulders—he stopped—the model had went back to sleep; resting her head on his shoulder and burying it into his neck. The soft snores and tiny breathes in the crock of his neck made his problem worse—he was going to kill his manager.
His breath hitched when the door opened and her apartment entered his orbs—books were scattered over the floor, her undergarments hanging on door-knobs—then the pug sitting patiently in the middle of the floor.
The sausage growled and barked for the stranger—awaken his owner draped over the swimmers shoulder. "What the hell is that?" Haru hissed as he closed the door.
Kou grunted and pressed her body against his strong back making him freeze in mid-step.
The pug barked louder and growled at the man—pissed off that he was holding his beloved owner. Haru tried to avoid the dog but it followed him—if he took a step to the right it was there—to the left it was there too. He had no way of avoiding the animal. "Lay off", the swimmer glared but the pug continued.
"Haro" Kou yawned in the swimmer ear—he thought she was saying his name. Perhaps having a dirty-dream about him of something along those lines. "Be nice"—and the dog went silent.
"Haro? You named you dog: Haro?" the Olympian narrowed his eyes for the name—it sounded like a knock-off version of his name – or something you'd say when drunk or even high.
Flopping the model onto her un-made bed he sighed—this isn't going to be easy.
He gripped the chain that made he leaned over her. They were being forced to live together – the chain meant he had to follow her and she had to follow him—his alone time was shot.
Looking down to his uprising friend he knew he was fucked—there was something about her that made him aroused—he didn't know what but it affected his friend full-force. The swimmer couldn't understand what it was—she is beautiful (he'll admit)—but her beauty is washed-out by her foul mouth and crude demeanor; she is like a trucker.
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*Pug*Deep end*
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The model yawned as she awoke from her nap—the sound of the television in her room blurred as she blinked—she never turned on the television when she got home.
Kicking her feet slightly she felt a body—instantly her eyes widened. Had she gotten drunk? Did she prick with a needle—no, no she didn't.
Looking over see noticed her partner watching the discovery-channel.
Then she remembered the chain connecting them. "Haru" his eyes turned from the television and to the model hugging a pillow—his face still hold no-emotions. "Are we really going to do this?"
He raised a brow – uncertain of what she was talking about. "Living together", she directed.
"Seems that way", he replied before fiddling with the chain—it looked expensive—probably one that was purchased from the highest-hardware stores—which meant they weren't getting out of this without the key.
She sighed into her pillow—she's just going to have to deal with it. "What do you want for dinner?"
They had to live together somehow.
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Today's random image: stairs of a bridge and lamp-posts.