Made of Glass is BACK, baby! This month is just gonna be about starting gay stories, I don't need to finish them, I'm just writing for me.
Rosalie's beat after a long day of cataloging. It's hard being one of the only two women in the auto-shop; it leaves her desperate for a spa day. Royce hadn't thought so, he hasn't responded to her text about it all day. But this wedding stuff is weighing them both down; it's so much to plan.
Plus, Jasper had texted her that he had met someone at the bus station coming in, who apparently had to stay with them for the weekend.
Just arrived. Made new friend. Will be staying til Sunday afternoon.
She drives home, in her sweet black Range, mildly annoyed that the gay cowboy didn't even ask her. He may pay half the rent, but he's so busy touring lately that Rosalie was beginning to feel like the apartment was much more hers than his.
She hates those artsy, intellectual types – excluding him. Probably because she isn't like that at all, scholarly pursuits rarely took a hold of her. She is methodical, logical. Figuring out a car's engine is easy – read the manual, have a poke around; there's no dissertation needed, it's all laid out for you.
But Rosalie's still slightly annoyed at the thought of an unexpected house guest when she climbs the stairs and makes it inside.
She can hear talking, some laughing; it annoys her further. Rosalie wishes she kept her heels on, wishes she'd redone her lipstick after lunch. She always gets like this when there are guests over; she feels sloppy otherwise. She knows it was her mother's polished, career-housewife voice in her head; dress for success. But her mother's idea of success was a rich husband and a Birkin bag, so Rosalie's nearly almost half-way there already.
Rosalie doesn't let herself care, she takes her time slipping out of her heels, sighing a little from the throb of relief she feels. She pads into the kitchen, and sees Jasper first, back to her as he takes a swig of beer. Leaning against the kitchen counter in saggy grey socks, his guest blocked behind him.
"Hiya, Cowboy," Rosie all but purrs at him. He doesn't jolt or pause; just plonks his beer down and scoops her into a tight hug. It feels good – his shirt smells a little different, but his shoulders are the same, his arms are too. She's glad to have her step-brother back.
"Missed you, Duchess." His words rumble through her palms spread over his back. Rosalie ignores how misty-eyed she is when the hug breaks. But this is the longest they'd spent apart in a while. "Come on, Dutch. Meet Eleanor McCarty."
Jasper puts on a big charming grin, letting Rosalie give him a shove as he ushers her forward a little.
Rosalie looks at Eleanor and stares a little. Eleanor was big and broad, and Rosalie felt her heart skip a beat with confusion. Donned in a baggy pair of jeans and a plain white rolled up shirt. She had a friendly expression, extending a hand towards her. Her hair wasn't long, but it was big – a million charming corkscrew curls around her head, and kind brown eyes.
"Hello, Rosaline, was it? I'm Eli!" she declares, her big voice is more feminine than her appearance and it startles Rosalie a bit. This woman is some sort of tomboy, that much was obvious. The suddenness of her appearance makes Rosalie flustered.
"Rosa-lee," Jasper almost sings as he corrects her, taking a swig of his beer.
Rosalie takes her hand a bit too late but shakes hurriedly. Eli's palms were large and slightly rough and it makes her uncomfortable. Rosalie knows the handshake was too quick, but she felt a bit off-kilter right now. Eli doesn't seem to mind, sitting back with a smile.
"Get you a beer, Dutch?" Jasper offers, opening the fridge.
"I'll have a glass of white," Rosalie informs him primly, twisting her engagement ring on her finger. Thankfully, she'd gotten her nails filled just the day before.
Jasper pours her a glass and slides it over to her. Rosalie takes a sip and focuses on letting herself be calm. Jasper never hid his sexuality from her. Archie Brandon is an effeminate ballet dancer that her brother has been seriously dating for what seems like ever. Rosalie had met all different kinds of Jasper's friends.
Rosalie doesn't want to make this poor woman feel like a zoo animal, and she is worried she's staring. She doesn't have any prejudices, this intense, buzzing feeling in her skin couldn't be because she's disgusted. She'd met other butch lesbians, after all. They were great, very nice. She couldn't let herself be weird around this woman.
"How'd you two meet?" Rosalie asks Eli, taking a long, luxurious sip, letting it fortify her. Eli waits for her to put her glass back down before answering.
"Bus station," Eli informs her happily. "I was a bit turned 'round and he called out and told me how to get to the hospital!" Her accent is thick, like she was from Memphis or something.
Rosalie frowns. "Why did you need the hospital?" she presses. Jasper says her name warningly, but she ignores him, because Eli is free to tell her to butt out herself.
"Jus' a special check-up," Eli tells her with a shrug, taking another sip of her beer. "That's a pretty colour," Eli nods to Rosalie's hand, holding her wine.
Rosalie smiles, switching her wine glass to her other hand to show off the rock. "24-carats," she says with pride. It was expensive, though of course Royce had the money.
Eli nods once, lips pursed but not angrily so, but as though she's trying to not smile, and reaches over to just tap on Rosalie's pinky. "Meant the nails," she says, before laughing shortly, "but the ring's mighty fine."
Rosalie feels her cheeks flush but glares when Jasper laughs at her. "Thank you," she says clearly, straightening her shoulders and working through the momentary embarrassment. She wouldn't snap or lash out – she was an almost married woman, after all, she didn't have childish fits of pique, anymore. "I love this color pink."
Rosalie smiles gleefully at her nice new nails. She feels gratified that their guest had noticed. Royce already made her promise that the wedding is going to be blue-accented, for his Yale years. She's going to have to get a bridal manicure to match.
"Very nice!" Eli replies with a firm nod. Perhaps her guest's attentiveness flatters her, but Rosalie preens a little at her approval.
"I can take you to get yours done, if you'd like," Rosalie says quickly, a little surprised with her own train of thought. But she could already picture Eli in Rosalie's usual nail spot, sitting and watching Rosalie get her fingers polished. The thought made her excited, doubtless because Rosalie loved doing little, girly things.
But her brain caught up with her; she didn't know this woman, or how long she'd be in the city. Eli is shaking her head already, as well.
"Not my style," Eli tells her cheerfully. That seemed the truth; Eli's nails were short and neat, and she had a rainbow sweatband, ringed with a black and brown stripe on each end, on her wrist. Rosalie found herself examining Eli's hand; they were big for a woman. Her hands were thick, obviously she worked some type of manual labor.
" … call home?" Eli is saying, and Rosalie glances up, seeing their guest looking at her brother.
"By all means." Jasper points out towards the living room. "Phone's on the coffee table." Eli gets to her feet and goes over to it. Rosalie watches as the woman also takes her beer, and the coaster, and lays the beer down on the coaster before she picks up the phone.
Both blondes look away to give her privacy as she dials. Jasper met his step-sister's eyes with amusement. "Thought you'd have a tantrum," Jasper murmurs.
"What?" Rosalie asks sharply. She hates being accused of being a brat. She only has an attentive eye and particular tastes. It isn't so abnormal.
"Wasn't sure you'd like havin' a stranger in the apartment," Jasper's tone is knowing, but not judgy. She rolls her shoulders as she considers his words. She'd only just met Eli, but Rosalie usually judged people quickly, and she didn't find anything wrong with her. "But Duchess, she's a big girl; looked real pitiful standing all lost in the station."
Rosalie thought Eli was indeed big, she could only imagine the woman looking a little overwhelmed in a big bus station.
"She's from some tiny town in Tennessee. I remember when I was in a big Yankee city for the first time." Jasper laughs at himself, and Rosalie grins with him. That city had been New York, where their parents had met. "Seems earnest too; I'm glad you like her."
Rosalie didn't bother denying it; Jasper could read people easily, and they were too close for her to fool him.
"Of course, it's no big deal," Rosalie tells him, and she's sure she's being so lax because she had missed him. Usually she did guard her space viciously. "I'll stay with Royce, if she'd like my bed," Rosalie offers. Rosalie had a Queen bed, it would easily fit Eli.
But Jasper just shakes his head. "She can just stay on the couch," he points out, and it was a futon. Rosie gives him a look, though, because she knows Jasper doesn't like Royce. "How's the wedding coming?" he asks, sounding petulant under her almost-glare.
Rosalie shakes her head. "Yeah, fine – oh my god," Rosalie waves her hands eagerly. "So today, I finally got the boss to agree to turn the air conditioner down," She says quickly, remembering her day at work.
Jasper nods, looking amused. "Because you're secretly a grandma …."
"Shut up!" she snaps, feeling A Rage coming on, but the heat in her tone isn't directed at him. "It's because the temperature is perfect for men wearing full suits, but not a woman in a normal blouse!" She considered it a victory.
"Knock me over with a feather." Jasper drains the last of his beer and squints at the clock on the wall. "I gotta call Archie in a bit or he'll not sleep." His voice is soft and drippy. Rosalie found herself smiling as she nods. She remembered the four years Jasper had spent at high school with her; the way he was so closed off, constantly tense and miserable. He's a different person now he had Archie. Though his mother told Rosalie that was how Jasper had been as a growing boy.
"Eli, all good?" Jasper asks, snapping Rosalie out of her revere. Eli is smiling quiet in the doorway, finished with her phone call.
"Little tired," Eli replies with a grimace, sounding downright apologetic.
"Duchess, you mind settling 'er in?" Jasper asks, but he's already heading into his often-empty bedroom, throwing out a drawling 'good-night' over his shoulder. He's always tired after traveling, and Rosalie knows he'll be useless tomorrow. Rosie doesn't feel the need to answer him, she just leads Eli through to the living room again.
"So we have a pull-out, and I'll set it up while you have a shower," Rosalie explains, getting a few sheets and a spare towel from the linen cupboard. Eli looks surprised as Rosalie handed her just the towel.
"I don't wanna be trouble, I'll do it …" Eli attempts to reach for the sheets, but Rosalie just side-stepped her.
"I'd rather get it done now," Rosalie explains, not really wanting to be kept up while Eli set things up herself. Rosalie opens the door to the bathroom and made a shooing motion inside. "Use whatever of my products you'd like," she adds, and while she usually loathed sharing, she thought it would be a little amusing if Eli ended up smelling like tropical coconut. Amusing, and, probably nice. Rosalie feels like she wants Eli to be her friend, and it's a slightly foreign impulse for her. Rosalie had a nigh impenetrable guard up for friends.
Eli grins while shaking her head and drops down by a beat-up duffel bag next to an equally-abused suitcase. She unzips it and rummages around. Rosalie leaves her to it, going to the couch and removing the cushions.
Eli pulls out a camo-print zippered bag, and a neatly-folded handful of nigh-indistinguishable black probably-clothes.
She gives Rosalie a nod as she walks into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
Rosalie pulls out the couch and smooths down the sheets as the water turns on. Meaning Eli is cuently showering. Rosie finds herself idly wondering if the woman wraps her breasts …. Rosalie had seen only the bare hint of a chest, though Eli had worn a tight-fitting shirt. The woman was incredibly muscular too – broad shoulders and arms.
She's so lost in her thoughts that her phone ringing makes her jump a little, and immediately click her tongue and throw her head back in irritation. She swipes it out of her purse, still in the hallway, and looks down at Royce's name flashing on the screen. She picks up quickly.
"Hey baby," he purrs over the phone.
Rosalie feels a flash of annoyance. "You haven't replied to me all day," she scolds him. She hates being ignored, though she had forgotten about her text until he spoke.
"I was busy, and I'm calling now. I miss you, do you want to come over?" he asks, his tone deeper than normal. He's trying to be sexy, but Rosalie always thought it made him sound like a chain smoker.
Rosalie has an adverse reaction to the idea of going all the way to his apartment at this time of night. "No, it's late, I'm tired," she says, still snappy. They were engaged, and for all that Rosalie expected a text back.
"I can think of something that'll wake you up. I'll come over," Royce tells her, and Rosalie feels another flash of irritation that he doesn't even try and ask first.
"Don't – my brother has a guest over," she says quickly. The shower is still running, but she hasn't finished making the bed and she's getting annoyed at this call.
Royce's tone is immediately harder. "Didn't know that fa – uh, he was here."
Rosalie ignores the pause; he'd corrected himself, after all.
"Yeah, he just got in today," Rosalie explains, still terse. "He hasn't mentioned you asking him to be your best man." They hadn't really talked about the wedding, but she knows it would be something her own brother would mention to her first. Royce lets out a gust of a sigh through the phone, and it crackles harshly in Rosalie's ear.
"Babe, I thought we talked about this-"
"He's my brother!" Rosalie snaps, feeling real fury building in her now. Royce had all but told her that because Jasper is 'only her step-brother' he thought he could choose his all his groomsmen out of his fraternity fuckwits. "I don't want you standing next to Steve, who keeps staring at my tits! You're asking him, and you'll do it before he leaves!" She has every right to make him do it; she was the one who has to have his idiot childhood friend Lauren as her maid-of-honor, after all.
"God, okay …. I gotta go," Royce's tone is bored, "I'll talk to you tomorrow – think about me, ok?"
"Think about me more," Rosalie purrs back in response.
"Don't be so full of yourself," Royce laughs, teasing, "night."
She hangs up, feeling drained and heavy. It could get hard to talk to Royce when she feels like he isn't listening to her.
"Um, hey?"
Rosalie's head snaps towards the bathroom. While she'd been on the phone, Eli had finished showering and s looking slightly awkward. She's donned in all-black; singlet, boxer-shorts and durag. Rosalie finds herself staring down at Eli's calves. They're huge; like she played basketball or something.
"Would you feel more comfortable if I wore sweatpants?" Eleanor asks. Rosalie snaps out of her staring and looks up to see Eli looking mildly concerned.
"No I wouldn't," Rosalie says honestly, and walks past her to finish the bed. She's incredibly annoyed that she hasn't made it in time for Eli to finish her shower. Eli trots behind her until she can drop her clothes on top of her duffel as Rosalie quickly fixes the sheets. Rosalie glances over, sees Eli carefully tucking away what looked like a boob-tube with several hook-and-eye clasps.
Eli met her gaze and Rosalie ducks her head quickly; because she realized in that second that it was a binder. Which made sense – as Eli's chest could actually rival Rosalie's in size, now that she can see it. Embarrassed, Rosalie finishes with the sheets and takes a hasty step back.
"So, um, if you need anything, I'll just be in my room," Rosalie says, and Eli sits on the futon and smiles up at her.
"Thanks for this."
Rosalie nods once and bids her goodnight, going straight to her room and closing the door. She still feels a bit strange; looking at Eleanor for too long made her chest feel wobbly and uncomfortable. She isn't sure why she's reacting like this – she really isn't prejudice, or she hasn't been until now. She is a little disappointed in herself that she's feeling so uncomfortable.
Annoyed with herself and even more bothered that she left her wine outside instead of bringing it in with her, Rosalie feels a little too awkward to go out and fetch it. She just decides to start dressing for bed and trying to sleep early.
There is a knock on the door, just as Rose is slipping on her favorite pajama suit. She opens it, and Eli is there, smiling with her wine glass balanced in her hands.
"You forgot this!" Eli chirps, and then her smile fades as she takes in Rosie's dress. "Unless you didn't want it anymore …."
Rosalie is elated though and takes it quickly. "No, I did! Thank you!" she says, genuinely pleased.
Eli goes back to smiling, her substantial chest puffing out, and shrugs with one shoulder. Rosie thought it's sweet that Eli is obviously so pleased with helping.
"It was really thoughtful of you," Rosalie continues, and found herself grinning as Eli shrugs again faux-casually.
"It was no problem; did you need anythin' else?" Eli asks. Rosalie is struck by the ridiculous earnestness of being asked by a guest in her own home, and laughs lightly.
"I should be asking you that!" Rosalie points out, and Eli grins again, but she seems bashful. "Is the couch alright?" she asks instead.
Eli nods once and took a half-step back. "It's great – have a good sleep," Eli says, and Rosalie wishes her the same before closing her door.
Honestly gonna have to tell me if you want more - I had this as a oneshot ages ago but it's got a full 20,000 words and counting!