Can't stop, addicted to the shindig

Chop Top, he says I'm gonna win big

Choose not a life of imitation

Distant cousin to the reservation!

He wasn't always this incredibly quiet.

Moving from the city to a quiet town didn't exactly help him to come out of his shell, either. Working with his grandfather and not having his voice heard also made for a recipe of silence. Although his best friend, Kai, insisted on moving away with him after their graduation, he still hadn't regained his voice back. He got quiet often, and stayed quiet often.

Even in moments like this.

"F-faster, Gray!" the brunette under him shrieks.

He stops his thrusting for a moment, just to look down at her, carefully taking this image in. Her signature braid has come completely loose, hair surrounding her head like a sea of rich brown. She is biting her lip, staring up at him with dark eyes, completely naked. Her tanned thighs are wound and wrapped firmly around his strong waist, squeezing him tight as ever. He's inside of her, cautiously trying to pace himself against her wetness. He recalls this sort of image like déjà vu; it's something that he's experienced time and time again before.

He used to find himself in this scenario after almost every hook-up back in the city. Now, this routine had become the norm for these two. He liked to consider it as a helpful way to, er, de-stress.

But how much longer could it go on?

She stares up at him, exasperated. "I said faster, not to stop!" she exclaims in disbelief. He snaps back into focus, glancing down at her bare, small chest.

"Yeah, sorry," Gray mumbles, in a tone which tells Ann that he isn't sorry at all. It's the first thing that he's said throughout the whole act. He leans back, cradling her boney hips in his calloused hands, and thrusts into her faster. He feels the muscles between her legs contract.

"Shit, Gray!" she groans. "I- I'm coming! Please, don't stop."

He rams into her further and further, his entire erection pushing faster against her folds. He shuts his eyes for a moment, taking in how fucking good it feels. He knows that Ann must feel the same, because he peeks one eye open to watch as her back curves against the mattress. She tightens up against him, until she finally loosens, reaching her climax. Gray's mouth folds over hers urgently, in an attempt to quiet her from moaning his name loudly. Their lips are caught roughly between one another, his chapped, hers smooth. Watching and feeling her wave of pleasure is enough to drive him over the edge. He pulls out quickly, panting as he releases.

They take a moment to recuperate. Ann props herself onto her elbows leisurely, frowning at the sight of him. "You know you're wearing a condom, right?"

Gray has seated himself on the edge of her bed, panting slowly. He lifts his light blue eyes up to meet hers, and scoffs. "Almost forgot I was. These 'bareskin' brands sure don't fuck around. I could barely tell it was even on."

Ann rolls her eyes at him, reaching for her crumpled up boyshorts. They are cream-coloured, with pink hearts dotting the perimeter of them. She slips them on, but Gray catches a glance at her butt before the garment covers them. "You're completely silent 90% of the time, and the other 10% is just you being a sarcastic asshole." She grabs her yellow, smocked tank top, bringing it over her head, before quickly shimmying her way into her corduroy overalls. Gray asked her once why he never saw her putting a bra on when they hastily dressed. She explained that it was because her breasts were so small, so she just never wore one. It was an extreme contrast to the other girls that he had slept with prior.

"I'm just saying," Ann continues. "You don't need to pull out if you're wearing a condom. You do it so quickly, that if I blinked, I'd freaking miss it!" She rubs her forearm, looking to him for a response. Thanks for the Sex Ed 101, Ann.

Surprisingly, though, Gray just chuckles. Judging by Ann's dubious look, he wonders if most people get surprised when he lets his walls down to show even the slightest bit of emotion. "Not ready to be a dad, if that's alright with you," he retorts gruffly. He wraps the condom up and throws it out, hiking on his black boxers. He then pulls on his sweatpants, thanking himself for changing out of his uniformed jumpsuit prior. That shit was not comfortable.

Ann just smirks. She picks up his hat that has been thrown against the headboard, and hands it to him. Gray snatches it quickly, placing it on top of his head, wondering if it will disguise his mussed-up hair. He hopes that the red across his cheeks had calmed itself down, now that he has caught his breath. In case it hasn't, he pulls his cap over a majority of his face.

"You're paranoid, Gray," Ann replies, combing through her hair to re-do her braid. Gray watches her quick fingers, like a kid mesmerized by a magician completing a card trick. This "friends with benefit" thing that they had going wasn't new, but watching her fingers never got old. She always had quick hands. Veryquick hands. "How long have you been like this?"

Gray gives her the side eye, making his way to her doorway. "You know, as much as I love twenty questions, Ann, 'cause you know I do, I'm just not in the mood for a round tonight." He smirks, about to open the door, but stops as he feels something hit his back. Turning, he stares at the crumpled up shirt lying at his feet. He picks it up embarrassingly, removing his hat to slip it on.

"Wouldn't wanna forget that, huh?" Ann says, winking. He shrugs it on, trying to change the subject from his own stupidity.

"It was really good today," he tells her. She cocks an eyebrow.

"Couldn't tell since you never make any noise," Ann answers. Then, her expression shifts. "How much longer do you think that we can keeping doing this for?" she asks softly. He wonders if this is a rhetorical question. Although it has only been a couple of weeks, he knows that the two of them would be better off if they just stayed as plain-old friends.

He doesn't exactly love this arrangement, but he sure as hell wasn't initially opposed to it either. What else was there to do in a small, sleepy town? Hang out with his grandfather? Go to church? He scoffed inwardly. Moving from the city to the middle of nowhere last year wasn't a fun switch whatsoever, but meeting Ann had been sort of good. When they got drunk at her father's inn one night, he almost didn't believe her when she shrewdly told him that she temporarily wanted something with no strings attached. He hadn't done that before, but he missed sex. Like, a lot.

Kai, an expert in casual sex, told him to give it a go. Gray was always careful, and while they lacked intimacy and closeness, they made up for with hardcore sex. It's because he was good in bed; he could give himself a pat on the back for that, knowing that he had gotten every previous partner of his to come intensely.

"Sorry. Promise I enjoyed it, in case you couldn't tell." He ignores her question, nodding at the garbage, where his discarded condom is tucked away under previous trash. Maybe he is paranoid, but he'd rather not have the inn's owner, and Ann's father, Doug, find anything that he wouldn't want to find. He'd surely murder Gray if he knew that he was using his daughter's room to purely fuck her in it.

"You're always so respectful when we do this," Ann continues. Gray just blinks at her. What's she going on about? "Any girl would be lucky to have you. I just want us both to be happy."

"Thought I was an asshole," Gray retorts. Ann just laughs.

"You know, on second thought: I take it back," she says. "You are an asshole, and no girl wants her boyfriend to be an asshole." The corner of his lip curves ever so slightly.

"You deserve a nice guy like Cliff, Ann," Gray cautions her. She blushes profusely at the mention of the traveller's name. "Someone who will love you, and still fuck you upside the bed." The tips of her pointy ears have turned red as well.

Ann saunters over to him, and pinches his cheek. He frowns. "You got a way with words, huh, Gray?"

This would have been the point where he'd have kissed his partner goodbye, but the two of them had been keeping it strictly business, with not a stitch of romance. While he'd never admit it, a small sliver of him might be missing that portion too. Gray turns the doorknob to exit, silently and abruptly. Ann knows that his grandfather hates when he is out too late.

She rubs her tailbone, wincing, noting at how rough Gray was today. It felt good; he always made her feel good, but she wondered why Gray was getting rougher and rougher with each hook up. She knows that tonight was probably their last time. She has been longing for a boyfriend, for actual companionship, not just sex. She thought that she knew what she wanted before, but she contemplated that she was probably just increasingly horny at that time. Besides, Gray was not boyfriend material, at least not for her. He was a good friend, despite his miserableness, and even better for casual hookups, but she knew that all good things such as this would surely have to come to an end. Maybe he can switch to doing this with that new farmer, Ann muses to herself, tying a white ribbon into her hair

Gray doesn't even hear the first knock. He finds himself lost in a dream where her voice still calls out to him.

More like a nightmare.

"Gray!" Saibara yells from the other room. Now, he's awake. Gray jolts up, rubbing at his bleary eyes, waiting for his vision to clear. His palm drags over his face, and he winces when he accidentally catches his still-healing eyebrow piercing. Ouch.

"Get the door!" his grandfather commands. "I'm busy."

Busy doing jack shit, Gray grumbles to himself, trying to clear up his foggy mind. What'd he even do last night?

Oh yeah, he thinks, staring at his pile of dirty laundry. Ann. He isn't even mad that last night was probably their last time. Sex is fun, but it doesn't help his painful and constant feeling of loneliness.

Gray reaches for a pair of pants strewn about the floor, slowly getting dressed. He is exhausted, and cannot even comprehend what time it is. He stares up at his Red Hot Chili Peppers poster that Kai had gifted him in their sophomore year. It hangs on the wall to his bedroom, next to a poster of some Sports Illustratedmodels hugging. Their tops are bare, and they are clad only in cheeky, black bikini bottoms.

The knocking continues.

"Grayson, I said-"

He can't find his shirt, or any t-shirt for that matter. "Gramps, I'm trying to find a top-"

"What are you, self-conscious?"

Gray sighs. Sometimes, he wishes he could knock the old man out. He really does. "No, Gramps, fuck. I'm not self-conscious, I'm-"

"THEN GET THE DOOR!" Saibara voice is stern and loud. For an old guy pushing eighty, he can still find the strength in him… to scream. Gray shakes his head. His grandfather really just likes to push his buttons, doesn't he? Lumbering out of his room, he passes the wrought-iron anvil on his work-station, making his way to open the front door. Gray checks the clock that sits atop of the stove from across the room. It reads 8:33 AM. He yawns, next glancing at the calendar to read the date: Spring 5. It's a Thursday.

It's a Thursday?

Now, he's mad. Gray swings open the door, to give the still-knocking person on the opposite side a piece of his mind.

"You know, Mineral Blacksmith is closed today, right?" snaps Gray as he opens the door. He stops himself from cursing when he sees the person on the other end.

She's tiny; he notes that immediately. Short, in a scrawny kind of way. She has long, straight blonde hair, tumbling down her cropped white t-shirt. Her top has a singular butterfly on it: a monarch. She wears a short, pleated blue skirt, and a pair of white Converse. There is a band-aid covering her right knee. She looks up at him, choppy pieces of her bangs falling into her wide, sapphire eyes.

"You know, the sign on your door says 'OPEN ALWAYS' right?" the girl retorts back, scrunching her cute, freckled nose up at him. She is downright pretty, beautiful even. But, judging by her tone, he can already tell what a pain in the ass she is. Not that his was any better. But he likes to think that he has a knack for knowing that kind of shit.

Gray quickly does a double-take on the side of his door, searching for the store's hours. Sure enough, the girl is right; it says so on a scrap of paper that's been taped messily to the window. He scowls and rips it off, cursing his stupid grandfather's chicken-scratch writing.

"Do you always answer the door shirtless?" the girl asks, giggling. He can tell that she is trying to break the ice, but he scowls at her too. Her face wilts.

"Last I checked, Blondie, this was my house, so-"

"Your house?" Saibara walks up to him, grabbing the paper from his grandson's hands. He wacks his hand to Gray's bare chest. "Last I checked, this was my house, son."

Leave it to his grandfather to be a self-righteous asshole. Guess Gray must have got it from somewhere.

"You must be the new farmer," Saibara says to the girl, reaching over his grandson to shake her hand. She smiles, her glossed lips shining in the sun. Farmer? Gray thinks, dubiously. This girl looks like she just stepped off the set of One Tree Hill.

"Yes, I'm Claire," she tells him, brightly. Claire shakes his grandfather's hand enthusiastically.

"Saibara, it is a pleasure to meet you. This is my cheerful grandson, Gray." Saibara points to Gray, but he just stares stupidly.

"Hi," he mutters, shifting his eyes. He can feel his face growing red. What he wouldn't give to have his hat cover his cheeks right now.

"Hi," Claire replies, curtly. She offers him a small smile, but he doesn't return it. She rolls her eyes at him.

"Come inside, please," Saibara says, guiding her into the house. He turns to his grandson. "Put some clothes on," he admonishes, scratching his long white beard. Gray just scowls harder.