I can say anything I want to now because this is rated M now omg so much power what am I going to do with it omg wow I have no word filter by the way so ya know sorry if the fuck word just slips out like seven times in a row every so often I don't even notice it.

Regardless the new rating, this chapter's still pretty tame. Tbh, I don't have a whole hella lot of experience writing much more than intense makeout scenes, so ya know we'll see what we end up with later. lol

xoxoxoxo

Free Runner

11: Something Kind of Like Second Base

xoxoxoxo

Fionna ended her call with an exasperated sigh. "I told them I was at 'Marceline's' house for some last minute studying before exams," she huffed, "which start tomorrow for me, just by the way. They were just all freaked out 'cause they got the call from the school saying I wasn't there. Didn't even ask why I just up and disappeared from their fucking house. What the fuck ever. I'm just done, anyway. Done." I didn't have to ask who "they" were; I could at least comprehend that much, although I was still the slightest bit hazy after the kiss.

The kiss. Jesus fucking Christ. That kiss, though. Maybe it'd just been a while, but that had to be one of the best kisses I'd ever experienced in my life because wow.

Oh, wait. Right. Conversation.

"How many exams do you have to take?" I asked.

"Five," she said. "I have two elective classes that don't have any exams, but I have three tomorrow and two on Friday."

"That's kind of disgusting." I remembered I had finals of my own starting the next week. "What are they on?"

"The first one tomorrow's on history and that one's not so bad because I always remember history stuff well so I don't have to study. And then I have a 'final'," she put little air-quotes there, "in Latin but we pretty much don't do anything in there so it's kind of like not having a final. Then there's Math—and that's pretty much the only one I'm super worried about because I really just suck at math—then English and environmental science on Friday."

"What math are you in?" I asked.

"Algebra II."

"That's the worst kind of algebra."

"Yeah really, though, tell me about it."

"I haven't taken math in two years so yeah that's kind of a blessing."

"I'm extremely jealous."

"You're a really good kisser," I said.

"What?" Fionna looked down at me and made a very confused face.

"Like, hella good. At kissing. That was really good."

"Uh…" Her face started to burn a few shades of pink and she averted her gaze. "I mean, thanks, I guess? I haven't really kissed anyone since, like, the eighth grade so that's a good thing I guess."

"I hope you weren't kissing people like that in eighth grade 'cause that'd be messed up."

"Uh…"

"Are you thirsty I'm thirsty," I announced, standing up quickly and walking to the kitchen. "We have orange juice, chocolate milk, boring milk, and eight different kinds of cranberry juice; pick your poison." I got out a couple of glasses and poured myself a mix of cran-grape and orange juice.

"I'll take some chocolate milk …?" Fionna lumbered over my way and watched me as I poured her a glass. "And, I mean, you're a good kisser, too, I guess. I haven't exactly kissed enough people to be able to compare, so…"

"Really? People always told me I was too sloppy. Or that I bite too much."

Fionna turned pink again. "You didn't bite me."

"Did I not? I'll have to fix that next time."

"Next time?" Fionna asked, burning redder.

"Unless you don't want to," I cooed, setting her glass down in front of her and taking a sip from my own as I leaned over the counter. I winked at her when I knew she didn't know what else to say, which earned me a punch in the arm.

"You're such a troll," Fionna griped, but she couldn't hide her smile.

"C'mon," I said, heading back toward the couch, "let's go see if there's any good movies on."

We settled for Tangled, since it was apparently Fionna's favorite recent Disney princess movie and I had only seen the first half of it with Ashley. Fionna hummed along to all of the songs, which was adorable because she was always so attentive to whatever she was watching and she had this habit of combing her hair through her fingers whenever she was interested in something. I ended up watching her half the time instead of the movie, but I didn't exactly feel beat up about it. Of what I did watch I could tell it was the heartwarming, feel-good type of movie that was good to watch on a rainy day. I told myself I'd get around to watching the whole thing eventually.

Fionna's stomach growled promptly after the movie was over.

"Ergh, what time is it?" she mumbled, stretching in her seat.

I checked the clock. "Four."

"Only? I'm starving," she said, staggering to her feet and wandering to my kitchen again, opening cabinets in search of, I dunno, chips or something.

I followed her over and lounged against the stove. "You eat a lot."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing. I eat a lot too. I like eating. Eating is fun. Everyone should do it."

"Preach it."

"We could always make something. Bacon pancakes, perhaps?" I suggested.

She lit up at the thought. "Oh, yes yes yes, please let's do it. Yes."

I grinned at her enthusiasm and rummaged through my pantry for some pancake mix. "Can you get the bacon?" I asked, grabbing some measuring cups and a bowl.

"Yeah sure," she said, hopping over to my fridge and digging through the meats bin until she found the bacon bag. "Uh, Marshall? We have a slight problem."

I looked back at her and sighed. "What is it?"

"There is only one piece of bacon left," she admitted. She held the bag up in front of me. "It's… kind of a retarded little piece, too," she added, wiggling it a bit.

I groaned and combed my hand through my hair. "Shiiiiiit," I said, "we'll have to go buy some more."

She looked into my eyes intensely. "We will do what we must do," she said. "To the store!" She started toward the door in a second, leaving me to scramble around for my wallet and phone behind her. She was already at the bottom of the stairs when I finally caught up with her.

"Thanks for waiting," I said sarcastically.

"I realize that I do not know which way the grocery store is," she said, looking around, ignoring me. I grabbed her arm and led her down a couple of streets and around the corner, where a convenient mini-grocer was nestled between a day care and a travel agency building.

She entered enthusiastically, heading straight for the cold food area. She'd picked up three packets of bacon already and was going for a fourth when I caught up to her.

"What the hell are you doing with three tons of bacon?" I deadpanned.

"I'm buying it. I'll do what I want," she retorted, pulling a small wad of cash from her tiny girl pocket and waving it under my nose. I snorted and pushed her hand away.

"Then why'd I go through all that trouble finding my wallet earlier?" I griped.

"To waste my precious bacon time, obviously," she said, heading back for the checkout lane.

"Wait a second. While we're here, shouldn't we at least pick up a few more groceries so we can make more than just, like, bacon and eggs?"

"You do what you want, Marshall. I'll meet you back at the apartment with my bacon."

I watched with a blank expression as she continued on to checkout, though I couldn't hold back the smile as I shook my head at her. I picked up some tomatoes, and red onions, thinking something tasty was bound to come from that if cooked the right way, and some strawberries and apples for something slightly healthier to snack on later, then went to check out.

The woman behind the counter was older with long, silvery hair. She watched me with an amused glint in her, very pale blue, eyes as I set my items in front of her.

"That's a spunky one you've got there," she remarked as she scanned my items.

"What? Oh, you, ah, you heard all that?" I scratched the back of my head sheepishly. "Yeah, she's just a friend staying at my apartment for a little bit. We were, um, out of bacon," I explained.

"Oh, just a friend, I'm sure," she said, bemused. "She was very enthusiastic."

"That's for sure," I huffed.

The woman handed me my bags with a warm smile and cold hands. She wished me a good day before I ran outside and back to my apartment.

Fionna was sitting outside my door, clutching her bacon tightly as I walked up.

"It's hot outside," she said.

"That it is."

"The door's locked."

"That it is."

"You wanna open it?"

"Nah."

"Where are your keys?"

"In my pocket."

"Which pocket."

"I don't know, the one with a key-shaped bulge in it."

Fionna stood herself up and walked around me.

"I can't find it, Marshall, open the door," she said.

"It might be behind my wallet, check there."

"Maaarshhaaaaaalllll," she whined.

I grinned at her and whipped the key out of my back pocket. "I should probably give you one of my spares, sometime," I muttered under my breath, unlocking the door.

"OH, sweet air conditioning," Fionna gasped as she walked inside. She let her bacon fall to the floor as she flopped onto the couch face-first.

I picked it up and set it with my bags on the kitchen counter before I joined her, splaying down on top of her. She grunted audibly but didn't object further.

Her stomach growled like a large dog.

"Pancakes," she muttered beneath me.

I got up off of her back and she took in an enormous gulp of air.

"You put away the food and get out some eggs while I get the water," I directed, as she waddled to the kitchen. She waved me off but did what I told her.

I measured out the water and mix, and just a splash of vanilla for flavor.

"Marshall, all of the food you bought is red," Fionna said.

I looked up at her and stared blankly past her for a second. "Son of a bitch," I scoffed.

She laughed and set some eggs and one of the packets of bacon on the counter.

"Okay now you need to coat the bacon in some brown sugar—it's right over here next to my bowl—and cook it halfway. Oh, cut it up a little bit first before you put it in the pan." I pulled a knife and cutting board out from the drawer in front of me. "And then we'll mix it in with the pancake batter and it will be delicious."

Fionna hopped excitedly before working on her task while I heated up a pan for the bacon to go in. It wasn't two seconds that I finished mixing the pancake batter that I heard her yelp.

"Yoooooow shit."

"What'd you do?"

"I cut my finger."

"Well that was dumb."

Fionna glared at me. I rolled my eyes.

"C'mon, let's go get it cleaned up before you bleed all over the food," I said, taking her arm and whisking her away into the bathroom.

I ran some cold water and had her put her hand under it while I looked through the medicine cabinet under the sink for some Neosporin and a Band-Aid.

After I deemed it clean enough, I dried her hand off and inspected the damage. She had a perfect little slice running down the knuckle of her middle finger.

"What, did you decide to cut your fingers up instead of the bacon?" I teased.

"We all make regrettable decisions," she replied.

I smeared ointment on the bandage and carefully wrapped it around her knuckle. "There, you're good to go," I said, looking up as I finished.

She tested her grip and rubbed her hand. "Thanks," she said.

I picked up her hand again.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

I looked at her slim, straight fingers and felt the softness of her hand. "You have small hands," I stated.

"Well you have ridiculously long fingers," she replied.

"Do I?"

She held my hand up against hers, and surely enough my hands were an entire joint longer than hers. I tangled my fingers with hers and gripped her hand lightly.

"It's probably from all of the bass playing," I said.

I lifted her other hand with mine and laced our fingers together. My eyes locked on hers. I leaned forward a little. She did the same. I pressed my lips to hers in a short, soft kiss. She blinked slowly, her pupils began to dilate, and I kissed her again. I pushed her back against the wall and she let out a tiny gasp. I kissed her again, a little longer, a little deeper, and released one of her hands to thread my fingers into her hair. She placed her newly released hand onto the back of my neck as I kissed a trail down her jaw line. She gasped as I moved lower, leaving open-mouthed kisses on her neck, nipping her shoulder just a bit, earning a quick yelp, and I chuckled into her collarbone. I pushed our bodies together and she squirmed beneath me, forcing herself closer. My fingers reached for the edge of her t-shirt, grazing the soft skin above her hip bone.

I felt the need begin to build up in the base of my abdomen. I started slowly pushing up the fabric of her shirt, getting halfway up before releasing her other arm so that I could pull it over her head the rest of the way.

I kissed her again before looking down. The lines of her body were perfect, from the gentle curve of her waist to her chest to her exquisitely defined clavicle.

"Beautiful…" I muttered, before attacking her mouth again. I grabbed her hips and forced them against mine. She kissed back with eagerness that told me to keep going. I pulled back and had my own shirt off in a second before pushing our bodies together once more. The skin-on-skin contact was electric. She ground her hips down on mine, and I couldn't stifle the moan that escaped my lips, which only encouraged her onward.

Her fingers were at the button of my pants, one hand working the button and the other one on the zipper. I stopped her before she could go any further. She gave me a questioning look when, at the perfect time, our stomachs growled in synchronicity. I shot her a sideways smile and she blushed into a giggle.

"Maybe we should get something to eat," I suggested.

Fionna just laughed as she reached down to pick up her shirt.

xoxoxoxo

Yeah no I can't stay serious for more than 100 words at a time you're gonna have to bear with me on this stuff. I can't even take myself seriously most of the time like yeah nope not even gonna happen whoops.

Well anyway I hope you enjoyed this chapter where exactly zero things actually happened that pertain to plot or character development. Oh, yes.

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