Treacherous
Disclaimer: I do not own the Total Drama series or anything else copyrighted.
A/N: Thanks to everyone for the amazing reviews on the last chapter - I'm so happy to hear that you all are enjoying the story so far! I've got some pretty big plans for telling Duncan and Courtney's story in between season 1 and 2 - I always envisioned there to be a year in between the two seasons, seeing as sixteen-year-olds do have to go to school at some point, and Fresh TV's timelines are a little funky. If at any point you're getting confused during the story, don't hesitate to let me know, and I'll for sure put my tentative timeline out there. It isn't too confusing, so I don't think it should be too much of a problem. Anyways, thank-you as always for reading! There hasn't been too much arguing in between this chapter and the last update, but don't worry ya'll, it's Duncney, so just when everything gets going good, something will be sure to throw a wrench in between their relationship. Without further ado, and because the sound of my own rambling is starting to annoy me, here's Chapter 10!
Chapter 10 – Playa de Romance
Everything had happened so quickly. One minute I was on top of the world, having admitted my feelings to Duncan and feeling as if we were the only two people on the island, and the next I was riding the Boat of Losers home. I cursed myself mentally for letting my guard down.
When I arrived at Playa de Losers, I was initially stunned by the resort itself, but swiftly got over it. Upon my arrival, the producers thought they should "let me know" that it had been Harold who had stuffed the votes because he wanted to get back at Duncan for pranking him. My grief quickly turned into vengeance, and I spent my first few days on the island working with my lawyers to get a lawsuit going against the show for a 'wrongful termination' case. If they could treat the show as a job – which technically, it was, considering its fiscal and societal impacts on my personal life – then it would be a shoe in; my termination on the show had likely breached the contract I had originally signed onto.
When Harold arrived on the island just a day after I did, he became the new target of my frustrations. He hid from me for over two weeks until I finally found him, which made me even angrier; if I had enacted my revenge on his first day at the resort, then maybe I could have spent the rest of my time there relaxing and hanging out with other campers – while checking up on my ongoing legal case, of course. Several of the contestants had tried to dissuade me from my course of retribution, but it was no use – until Harold had gotten what he deserved, I found myself unable to focus on anything else. My brain switched into a mode of tunnel vision. Not only had he cost me my chances of winning $100,000 (it wouldn't have been much trouble to go far with Duncan as an ally – look how long he lasted on his own!), but he had also cost me the chance of seeing what would have happened to me in another four weeks of letting my hair down. Maybe it would have been nothing. Maybe I would've come to my senses in a day and made a full return to Type-A, perfectionistic Courtney. But there was also a chance that in another four weeks, I could have changed to be a full-time version of the Courtney that I was in the last challenge I competed in – the more laid-back, impulsive Courtney. Or maybe I would've come to find a happy medium between the two. Regardless, I hated Harold for taking those possibilities away from me.
And then there was the Duncan thing. I hated Harold for taking away everything that might have happened between the two of us in another four weeks on the island. We weren't even really a couple – I mean, sure, we had kissed and were definitely each other's romantic interests, but we hadn't even had enough time to discuss what we actually were. And before I could even fathom how to bring the topic up, I was whisked away from him and dropped off on some stupid beach resort, left to contemplate all the reasons why something between us wouldn't work back in the real world – all the things that being around him stopped me from thinking about. It felt as if each day without him we were taking a step back in all the progress we'd made together.
After I finally found Harold and had painfully twisted a streetlamp around him, which I figured was a decent enough way to take all of my pent-up frustrations out on him, it was another four days until Duncan had arrived. I spent most of my time hanging around the pool with LeShawna, as she was one of few people whose company I actually grew to enjoy and Bridgette was too busy making out with her new boyfriend to spend much time with anyone else.
"You comin' to the dock, girl?" LeShawna asked, moving from her beach chair next to mine. It was another elimination night, and everyone at camp usually gathered around the end of the dock to welcome in the next surprise loser.
"No, I'm good," I smiled back at her, feeling my stomach do a little backflip. I spent the first few elimination nights on Playa de Losers standing anxiously at the end of the dock with everyone else, secretly hoping to see a flash of neon green in the distance. I grew sick of the teasing from other campers ("We know who you can't wait to see, Courtney"), the disappointment when I realized it wasn't him, and the guilt I harbored each time for the part of me that hoped he'd lose so we could spend more time together before returning to the real world. And what would I say if it was him? How would I act? Would he forget about everything that happened a few weeks prior and write it off as a summer fling? Or worse, came a voice from the back of my mind. He could've cozied up to Gwen or Heather while you were gone.
"Are you sure? Could be your boy," LeShawna teased in a sing-song voice. I just shook my head, the butterflies in my stomach moving too vivaciously for me to say something snappy back. LeShawna had told me several times over the past few days that Duncan still had it bad for me, even after I was gone. While I wasn't one hundred percent sure I could believe her, it still was nice to hear, and her assurances eased some of my anxieties by even the smallest amount.
I picked up Wuthering Heights, which I had been re-reading over the past few days, as LeShawna left for the dock. I willed myself to focus, but it was a futile attempt, and I ended up staring blankly at the pages in front of me.
"It's coming!" I heard voices begin talking excitedly in the distance, and I did my best to tune them out.
"Duncan!" Someone cried out. I shot up from my seat, looking over and seeing the boat a few feet away from the end of the dock. And there he was, duffle bag in one hand, preparing to step onto the dock the minute it landed. The green in his hair was fading some, and he looked a little worse for wear, but I couldn't help thinking that he was as attractive as ever. I felt myself stand up, and before I knew it, my feet were carrying me towards the dock. We locked eyes as soon as he got off the boat. I watched him take in a deep breath, but his exhale was masked with a mix between his signature smirk and a genuine smile. The look he gave me was all I needed for the corners of my lips to twist upward, and as he strode over to me, I picked up speed. I dropped my book and the towel that I was carrying with me, along with all of my worries, fears, and inhibitions, as I threw my arms around his neck and he pulled me into a tight hug. I kicked up my feet as he spun me around and whispered huskily in my ear, "Miss me?"
When he put me down, I pulled away, but he kept a tight grip on my hand, lacing our fingers together, as he made his way around, greeting a few people with a slap on the back or a "Hey, man." I couldn't contain the small but satisfied smile on my face as we made our way off the dock together. He had lost out on $100,000 a mere few hours beforehand, but in that moment, he made me feel like the grand prize.
"So you never answered my question."
It was nearing midnight, and Duncan and I were lying on top of my bed, me cuddling up to him as I did so many nights ago in the woods.
"Hmm?" I asked, redirecting my attention from our hands, which were interlocked and playing with each other idly, to his face. He was looking down at me smugly.
"Did you miss me?" He whispered.
I ran my tongue along my top teeth, debating how best to get out of answering, before I moved to kiss him again.
"Ah, ah, ah," he reprimanded, putting a finger over my lips to stop me.
"Ugh," I huffed, rolling off of him. "You're really gonna make me answer that?" Being with Duncan felt more natural than anyone I had spent time with before, romantically or otherwise, but I still didn't like admitting my feelings out loud; while instinct directed most of my physical behaviors around him, verbal confessions made my true feelings seem all the more real – which were still completely terrifying. His affinity for teasing me about them, too, didn't make it any easier.
"Of course, babe," he answered coolly, amusement clear in his expression.
I figured it was better to answer sarcastically. "Yes, of course I missed you, I cried my eyes out every minute of every day, pining over when I'd get to see you again." My stomach twisted as I realized that there was some sense of truth behind the words.
He rolled his eyes, and pulled me back on top of him. "That's what I thought," he said smugly.
I scoffed. "You know, LeShawna told me you missed me." My heartbeat picked up quickly, as a part of me feared what she had said wasn't true.
"Every day," he replied simply, pulling me down for another kiss.
The kisses we shared that night were different than any I'd ever experienced and much different than our first. They were passionate, hungry, and I could feel the cool metal of his tongue piercing as it roamed its way around my mouth. Each kiss was a battle for dominance, him pushing for control, me pushing back, surprising him at first, and leaving us both dizzy and out of breath by the time we pulled away. I had made-out with a few boys before, ex-boyfriends and homecoming dates, but never like this. Physical touch appeared to be our mutual love language, and it felt as if each kiss communicated something to the other. "I missed you" - "I want you" - "I need you" - "I'm afraid" - "Don't be afraid." Our communication filled the room, and I had never felt so connected to anyone in my life.
"Since when are you such great friends with LeShawna?" he asked in between make-out sessions.
"Since Bridgette and Geoff won't stop swapping spit for longer than a minute," I laughed, and he snickered.
We were silent for a moment, and I was pressed up against his chest. I looked away before I spoke. "I'm glad you're here now," I mumbled.
"What was that?" He asked teasingly, straightening up a little. "I didn't quite hear you."
"Stop it," I warned him, but the words fell out half as serious as I intended them to be.
He leaned down, and kissed my bangs. "Me too," he mumbled into my hair.
"What was that?" I snapped up, grinning. "I didn't quite catch that."
"Ha-ha, very funny," he quipped sarcastically, as I stood up on the bed, jumping around like a ten-year-old as I teased him. "Stop it, stop it," he grumbled, both of us laughing. "Come here," he moved to his knees and tugged on one of my legs, leading me to fall on my knees opposite him.
My grin fell to a contented smile as I we stared at each other in silence, eyes communicating wordlessly how strongly we felt about each other. Seconds, minutes, or hours later – I wasn't quite sure – I broke the moment with a chaste kiss, and hopped up from the bed, moving to rummage through my drawers.
"I am going to change for bed in the bathroom, you," He opened his mouth to say something undoubtedly perverted, but I cut him off. "Are going to stay out here while I do so." As I made my way to the bathroom of my on-suite, I turned back to him, and spoke in a softer voice. "You're welcome to stay if you want." I didn't give him time to answer before I closed the bathroom door.
When I walked out in my cropped pink tank top and matching short-shorts, he had already stripped down to his boxers. He was stood up looking out the window with his back to me. I felt my breath catch in my throat before he turned around.
I watched his eyes rake over my body before he looked at my face and grinned. "Time for bed?" He asked, raising his brow suggestively.
I rolled my eyes, crawling under the covers. "If you make me regret this in any way, shape, or form, I am gonna make you so miserable."
"Oh, relax," he said, snuggling up behind me, throwing his left arm around me, and pulling me closer toward him. I was suddenly aware of how little fabric we had between the two of us and where exactly my backside was pressed up against. The places around my midriff where his bare skin touched mine felt like they were on fire.
"Goodnight, princess," he mumbled. It occurred to me how tired he must have been.
I rolled my eyes, trying desperately to ignore the butterflies in my stomach that had long since taken flight. "Goodnight, ogre."
After a few minutes, his breathing became steadier, but his grip around my waist remained as tight as ever. Realizing he must've fallen asleep, I was able to relax a bit more, and eventually succumbed to unconsciousness myself.
