**
I mumble something when I wake up; something left over from my dream that I can't remember anyway. The clock is glaring at me, telling me it's not time to get up so get my ass back to sleep, instead I sit up, throwing off the sheet as I climb out and almost step on Harry.
He's on his back; hair messy like he's been running his hands through it . . . it looks like when he woke up yesterday, after _my_ hands were through it. I love him. I get up, angry with him for yesterday and trying not to remember last night. I move into the living room, planning on the Today show or something but the couch stops me. Stupid couch, Harry doesn't even want to sleep on it. I veer into the kitchen instead and start some coffee.
I told him I'd have coffee everyday if he let me be his roommate, but . . . things happened and coffee wasn't so important anymore. I heard him moving around and . . . I wonder if he looked to see if I was there? He stumbles out of the bedroom, messy hair, stubble, a pair of plaid-printed boxer shorts, and a morning erection.
"Mornim," he grumbles.
"Rule Number Seven: Wear clothes at the table," I say with a bite so he doesn't see the way I look at him. He sighs and reaches out for my hand just as I'm setting down a coffee cup.
"Dana . . . I'm sorry."
**
"Yeah. You should be."
O-kay. Didn't expect that one. I apologized, and I'm serious. I . . .
"No. I said I'm sorry."
She drops the cup the inch to the table and jerks her hand back. "What the fuck do you want? A cookie?"
"I guess that's no breakfast then?"
She rolls her eyes and gets a box of Count Chocula, dropping it onto the table. "Eat up."
"Dana, talk to me."
"We did talk, you said enough for the both of us." She goes back to going here and there in the kitchen with her little short-tank top combo.
"I didn't say the right thing."
"Yeah, it sucks when you ruin things with your roommate/screw-buddy."
"That's not what you are!" I yell. That stops her cold and she looks at me. I see some of the fight go out of her and she sighs.
"Then what am I, Harry?"
I look at the tabletop. How do I say this? I've never said it to anyone besides my parents - and my father only heard it when I was a child. I hear her shift.
"I get it."
"No, it's . . . I was just . . . it's hard to say."
"Just tell me! I can't take the confusion anymore, we just finished this and I don't want to start it again." She's crying. I hate it when she cries.
"How do you feel about me?"
She breathes, shaky. She pulls out a seat and sits down.
"Harry, you . . . You are the person that's always there for me. You've been my White Knight and you've been a jerk - though you probably didn't know it, and it involved you being with Miss . . . Lauren. It hurt seeing you like that and I tried to ignore . . ." She takes another breath wiping her tears away and my hand travels across to meet hers. "I was almost over this infatuation, you know, it used to be just a crush and I just thought you were really hot . . . Then I saw you weren't some made-up fantasy. I know you aren't perfect, Harry. Once I realized that it was like it changed . . . You're still pretty hot though." She laughs at that.
"Thanks . . . Now?"
"Now the fact that you have flaws, you are who you are . . . I'm in love with you, Harry. You, and not some thought or ideal that I wanted, you can be a compete ass sometimes and I'm in love with you . . . and you can be the most incredible person I've ever met and I'm in love with you . . . How do you feel?" She snorts a laugh out because she thinks I'm going to reject her.
She's beautiful. She's always beautiful. "I'm in love with you."
Her head shoots up and she stares at me with and shakes her head. "No, you aren't."
Huh?
**
He's saying it to make me feel better and that's a fucked up thing to do. If he doesn't love me he doesn't, he shouldn't have to lie.
"Yeah, I do," he tightens on my hand and looks right into my eyes. "Trust me, I was kind of clueless to it myself. I never wanted to fall in love, Dana, and I never thought it was an issue to anyone I was with. A lot of women have ended a relationship angry me because I didn't feel like they did . . . and there's nothing I can do about that, because I never really understood it, not really. I didn't want to anyway. But now . . . I know why they were upset. I love you and the thought of you not loving me back makes me feel like I'd . . ." His eyes fall to the table and I reach to lay a hand over his forearm.
"Harry."
And when he looks up at me his eyes almost look . . . glassy. But not really, like if you remembered it later you'd automatically dismiss it, like the light was playing tricks.
"I love you, Dana. I don't do this, talk about how I feel, I just don't, so you can believe me when I say it. I'm in love with you. I love you . . . I love you, Dana." . . . He's serious. "Fuck. I slept on the FLOOR last night because I couldn't sleep in bed with you."
"I'm sorry," I whisper. He has so much raw emotion right now that . . . "Harry."
I get up and he pushes the chair out and without thinking I straddle on his lap and wrap my arms around his neck. It's hard for him, that's obvious, someone that is so skilled in getting other people to open up and he's pretty freaked out by doing it himself.
"I love you," he tells me, his words on my throat.
I smile.
**
This feels . . . different. I don't share my feelings, that's not me. I don't do that. This is why I stole cars as a teenager, I didn't talk about how I felt, I acted out. I don't do this.
"I love you, Harry."
And she makes it worth it. She pulls back, a soft smile as she stokes my face. She leans in and it's extraordinary to have her lips on mine again. I love her.
"Break Rule Number One?" she asks, kissing me again.
"Yeah," I tell her, even thought I don't remember what Rule One was.
"I love you."
**
I undressed him in the bedroom, he was only wearing boxer shorts, but he seemed to like it. I was going to try to focus on him, but he undressed me without my being aware of anything but his mouth on my neck on that one spot that I love when he bites. And then his kisses moved lower until they were all over and . . . Harry was late for work.
We spent almost an hour together before the alarm went off. And we hadn't even gotten to everything yet. I was just discovering him when the alarm went off much to Harry's chagrin; it's broken now.
Then the answering machine started with Guber's calls wondering where Harry was. After the fourth one we finally decided we couldn't spend all day in bed - it wasn't a weekend . . .
We have plans this weekend.
"Shirt?" he asks, coming out of the bathroom, his hair wet as he scrubs his hand through it. All half-dressed and . . . Harry. Wheee.
"Don't know," I say. He looks at me in said shirt and smiles, it's *that* smile. I've seen it a lot now. That's his 'I love you' smile. Took me a while to figure it out. He walks over to me and curls his fingers into the cloth of the Yankees jersey I wear and slides it off of me. He kisses my lips . . . That's . . .
"I love you." He says it first and it means a whole hell of a lot. "You're beautiful."
Compliments from all directions. He lays on top of me and I'm very glad I didn't bother to put anything else on because he feels so good on top of me.
"I love you," I tell him quite happily as I kiss him.
**
"Guess you and Dana made up," Kevin says as I walk into the Lounge on break. "Love that grin, latest style?"
"Shouldn't you be at home?"
"And miss my dearest friends?"
"You are such a gossiping old woman."
"Whose advice works, apparently," he says proudly.
"So you made me realize some stuff."
"That you were an imbecile? That I'm always right? That--"
"I get it," I say pulling out a bottle of water. "And . . . thanks."
"Oh, Harry, I am *so* touched right now."
"Jackass."
"Lucky bastard."
"Hey, Harry," a voice says. I whirl around to see Lauren standing there with an attempt at a smile firmly in place.
"Hey, Lauren."
"Kevin, how was vacation?"
"Sun, and . . . fun . . . I have some things to do," he says with eyes darting between up.
"No, don't leave. I'm just here to pick up Marilyn for lunch." She shifts from one foot to another while Kevin sits back down and I crack the cap on the water. I take a long drink and it's quiet before Lauren approaches me. "Harry, can I talk to you?"
My look must not seem to be nice because she steps back a little. "I don't know."
I don't think I want to hear her complain about Dana, in fact I know I don't.
"Just a minute and . . . it's not about . . . everything." She looks at Kevin and I cross my arms.
"Yeah. Okay."
We walk out into the hall and she sighs. "I know . . . we didn't happen the way we--"
I start to shake my head and she revises herself.
"It didn't work out how *I* would have liked. But it's over and . . . I know that. We have to work together, Harry, I just hope we can be cordial to each other."
"I never had a problem with that, Lauren. I wouldn't mind working with you on anything, besides, our issues shouldn't effect the school anyway."
She seems like she just remembered that and nods. "Right, that's right. So . . . we're okay?"
"Sure." I guess so. I never had a problem to begin with.
"Good," she grins. "I'm really glad. I mean with Dana and everything, you had to have realized it was a shock, I mean, it's *Dana*."
I kind of laugh and shake my head. She always puts her foot in her mouth. "I don't want to hear it. I'm with Dana, not the student, the woman, and I don't want to have to defend that. I shouldn't have to."
"Yes, you're right." Yeah, I know. "Sorry."
"Hey guys," Marilyn calls out cautiously. Her eyes scan us over and she looks at Lauren. "You ready?"
She smiles tightly and nods just as tightly. "Yeah, ready."
They walk away, Marilyn giving a supportive look as she goes, I head back into the Lounge.
"What was that?" Kevin asks.
"Quit asking for gossip!"
"Come on, it's my vacation!"
**
This couch isn't that bad. It doesn't go with anything in the apartment, really, everything else seems like Harry has had it forever, but it's comfy . . . Ooo, there's that nesting thing again. I look at the clock and my mother's been released by now, at least according to whomever I spoke to this morning.
I can hope she isn't going to the bar right now, but I'm not going to fool myself.
But I can hope.
"Dana?" Harry smiles. I tell you, new relationships, just seeing him there . . .
"Hi." I meet him with a kiss, long, lingering, incredibly delighted - reminding him that we didn't finish this morning.
"I love you."
"Look at you," I kid lightly. "Mr. All about the Emotion."
"Comes naturally."
"I love you." Look at us open people. Crazy.
"So I'm thinking, how bout we break rule Number . . . what's the shower one?"
I grab him by his shirt and smile. "Does it matter?"
**
We didn't make it to the shower, but the couch needed to be marked anyway. It's big enough to lay on without too much of me going over the edge, nice. Dana's on top of me, one knee on the couch, the other braced on the floor and *naked*, stunningly naked. She's smiling, all that hair spilling over me as her hips hover at my erection. I think she's out to kill me.
She kisses me with that smile and I manage to slip a hand up to rub into her slick sex and she moans, closing her eyes and moving her hips. Fuck.
The phone rings and since it's right next to us she jumps a little before laughing. We aren't getting it. I pull her down, kissing her as I manage to roll us over on the couch - it doesn't really match anything but I think it's my favorite damn thing next to the bed, and the shower . . . and the wall next to the bedroom.
Unfortunately, with Dana's hand over mine, I'm a little distracted, more so when she reaches down to grab me. I jerk forward, somehow hitting the table with my foot and unhinging the phone. DAMMIT.
Dana struggles up and looks a little hazy, picking up the receiver and trying to clear her throat before she answers. "Hello?"
I slump forward, but just for a minute, her breast too much of a distraction to stay interrupted.
Suffice it to say I'm surprised when she accomplishes putting a hand over my mouth.
"It's so nice to hear from you, Mrs. Droken . . . Rena."
Nothing a man appreciates more than a call from his mother during sex.
She pushes slightly on my mouth as I groan out my annoyance. "Harry? Yes, he's here. Sure."
She holds the phone out to me but I shake my head and push it away. Persisting, she holds it right up to my ear, but I don't say anything. She throws her head back onto the cushion under her with a silent laugh before looking at me, reaching up and -
"OW!"
"Harrison?"
Wily minx. I rub my nipple that she savagely twisted and lift my eyebrows in implication as her laugh becomes steadily less quiet.
"Harrison?"
"Yeah. Mom. I'm here."
"I told you to call, but I suppose you forgot your dear old mother as soon as she's out of your eye range." I struggle to sit up and Dana sighs a little, getting up and walking past me with a smile as she heads into the bedroom. I reach for my shirt, covering myself because, well, just because. "So what do you have to say for yourself?"
"I meant to call, things just happened."
"Well, I suppose I'll forgive you if you tell me you were romancing Dana," she hints. Kevin and my mother would make the best gossip partners - Ooo, did you hear about so-and-so? Why NO, tell, tell!
"Actually . . ." I can hear her grinning over the phone, I swear.
"So my look was right?"
"Yes. You were right." I'm a broken record lately.
"I just knew it, you two make the most lovely couple. Roommates? Phftt. All that stuff at brunch, too, oh, Harrison, I knew it'd work out. Let me talk to Dana."
Dana standing stark naked in the doorway, tilting her head.
"She's busy, Mom. Bathroom."
"I can wait."
Ahhhhh . . .
" . . . Really, really busy, Mom."
She doesn't say anything but then she chuckles softly over the line. "Oh. I see."
No, don't see it. The last time you saw you were trying to be mother *and* father, I didn't relish my first sex-talk.
"I gotta go. Bye, Mom."
**
When Harry comes into the bedroom, I look morosely at the clock.
"I have to get work."
He winces first, then sits on the bed, then flops back and puts a hand over his face. I reach over, stoking his chest, running my hand further down before stopping myself, it's not fair. To either of us. Getting up I go into the living room, finding and pulling on my clothes.
When I come back in, he's still on the bed, half-leaning against the wall. Still without a stitch of clothing, and looking at me . . .
"What's wrong?" He's silent and I already know. "I'm not thrilled about going to work either, Harry."
That's an understatement.
"Quit?"
"And live off of you? Sure, who needs a pesky paycheck? Wouldn't want to pay those overdue bills - adds character to the mailbox."
"Dana." Jealousy. Plain and simple. "I hate it, you know."
"I know," I say, climbing onto the bed and laying next to him. "But it's just a job, Harry."
"I know," he repeats in a mumble. "It's just that once I've seen . . . you . . . it's kind of hard to know other guys are too."
I sigh. Don't really have an answer for that one.
"I hate it."
"It's just a job," I repeat. "And I'm cleaned out, my bank balance is scary."
"We could send the couch back," he tries.
"That would be just wrong, no on wants a couch we had any kind of sex on. 'Sides . . . it's a good couch now," I play. ". . . I love you."
"I love you too. Which makes it really hard to see you do this," he says quietly.
And the way he says it . . . Ugh, he's going to make me lose my job! I understand what he's getting at, it was the same thing I've been thinking over lately - Privacy. We're together now and even if it's a job - the kind you disconnect your self from - it's like after that intimacy it should be just he and I seeing each other. It's silly, with today's outlook, anyway, but that's how it feels. I wouldn't exactly jump for joy at him shaking it for every Tina, Dina, and Sally.
Dammit.
"It's a job." Great defense. "Just a job."
It is. I know some of the girls love it, and some even get turned on being on stage, it was never like that for me. I got up there, smiled, turned a couple of times, got the money and that was it . . . I sound like one of those monkeys that dance to accordions.
And now I've begun to view it differently . . .
I sigh raggedly and lay my head on his shoulder.
"I've got to go."
I get up and go to the bottom of the closet, pulling out a pair of my work shoes. His gaze locks on them and I dangle the stilettos from my fingertips. They're glossy pink, a thick base and break-neck heel. He's never seen them before and I smile. He likes 'em.
But I'll bet he'd like to be the only one who sees them.
.
I mumble something when I wake up; something left over from my dream that I can't remember anyway. The clock is glaring at me, telling me it's not time to get up so get my ass back to sleep, instead I sit up, throwing off the sheet as I climb out and almost step on Harry.
He's on his back; hair messy like he's been running his hands through it . . . it looks like when he woke up yesterday, after _my_ hands were through it. I love him. I get up, angry with him for yesterday and trying not to remember last night. I move into the living room, planning on the Today show or something but the couch stops me. Stupid couch, Harry doesn't even want to sleep on it. I veer into the kitchen instead and start some coffee.
I told him I'd have coffee everyday if he let me be his roommate, but . . . things happened and coffee wasn't so important anymore. I heard him moving around and . . . I wonder if he looked to see if I was there? He stumbles out of the bedroom, messy hair, stubble, a pair of plaid-printed boxer shorts, and a morning erection.
"Mornim," he grumbles.
"Rule Number Seven: Wear clothes at the table," I say with a bite so he doesn't see the way I look at him. He sighs and reaches out for my hand just as I'm setting down a coffee cup.
"Dana . . . I'm sorry."
**
"Yeah. You should be."
O-kay. Didn't expect that one. I apologized, and I'm serious. I . . .
"No. I said I'm sorry."
She drops the cup the inch to the table and jerks her hand back. "What the fuck do you want? A cookie?"
"I guess that's no breakfast then?"
She rolls her eyes and gets a box of Count Chocula, dropping it onto the table. "Eat up."
"Dana, talk to me."
"We did talk, you said enough for the both of us." She goes back to going here and there in the kitchen with her little short-tank top combo.
"I didn't say the right thing."
"Yeah, it sucks when you ruin things with your roommate/screw-buddy."
"That's not what you are!" I yell. That stops her cold and she looks at me. I see some of the fight go out of her and she sighs.
"Then what am I, Harry?"
I look at the tabletop. How do I say this? I've never said it to anyone besides my parents - and my father only heard it when I was a child. I hear her shift.
"I get it."
"No, it's . . . I was just . . . it's hard to say."
"Just tell me! I can't take the confusion anymore, we just finished this and I don't want to start it again." She's crying. I hate it when she cries.
"How do you feel about me?"
She breathes, shaky. She pulls out a seat and sits down.
"Harry, you . . . You are the person that's always there for me. You've been my White Knight and you've been a jerk - though you probably didn't know it, and it involved you being with Miss . . . Lauren. It hurt seeing you like that and I tried to ignore . . ." She takes another breath wiping her tears away and my hand travels across to meet hers. "I was almost over this infatuation, you know, it used to be just a crush and I just thought you were really hot . . . Then I saw you weren't some made-up fantasy. I know you aren't perfect, Harry. Once I realized that it was like it changed . . . You're still pretty hot though." She laughs at that.
"Thanks . . . Now?"
"Now the fact that you have flaws, you are who you are . . . I'm in love with you, Harry. You, and not some thought or ideal that I wanted, you can be a compete ass sometimes and I'm in love with you . . . and you can be the most incredible person I've ever met and I'm in love with you . . . How do you feel?" She snorts a laugh out because she thinks I'm going to reject her.
She's beautiful. She's always beautiful. "I'm in love with you."
Her head shoots up and she stares at me with and shakes her head. "No, you aren't."
Huh?
**
He's saying it to make me feel better and that's a fucked up thing to do. If he doesn't love me he doesn't, he shouldn't have to lie.
"Yeah, I do," he tightens on my hand and looks right into my eyes. "Trust me, I was kind of clueless to it myself. I never wanted to fall in love, Dana, and I never thought it was an issue to anyone I was with. A lot of women have ended a relationship angry me because I didn't feel like they did . . . and there's nothing I can do about that, because I never really understood it, not really. I didn't want to anyway. But now . . . I know why they were upset. I love you and the thought of you not loving me back makes me feel like I'd . . ." His eyes fall to the table and I reach to lay a hand over his forearm.
"Harry."
And when he looks up at me his eyes almost look . . . glassy. But not really, like if you remembered it later you'd automatically dismiss it, like the light was playing tricks.
"I love you, Dana. I don't do this, talk about how I feel, I just don't, so you can believe me when I say it. I'm in love with you. I love you . . . I love you, Dana." . . . He's serious. "Fuck. I slept on the FLOOR last night because I couldn't sleep in bed with you."
"I'm sorry," I whisper. He has so much raw emotion right now that . . . "Harry."
I get up and he pushes the chair out and without thinking I straddle on his lap and wrap my arms around his neck. It's hard for him, that's obvious, someone that is so skilled in getting other people to open up and he's pretty freaked out by doing it himself.
"I love you," he tells me, his words on my throat.
I smile.
**
This feels . . . different. I don't share my feelings, that's not me. I don't do that. This is why I stole cars as a teenager, I didn't talk about how I felt, I acted out. I don't do this.
"I love you, Harry."
And she makes it worth it. She pulls back, a soft smile as she stokes my face. She leans in and it's extraordinary to have her lips on mine again. I love her.
"Break Rule Number One?" she asks, kissing me again.
"Yeah," I tell her, even thought I don't remember what Rule One was.
"I love you."
**
I undressed him in the bedroom, he was only wearing boxer shorts, but he seemed to like it. I was going to try to focus on him, but he undressed me without my being aware of anything but his mouth on my neck on that one spot that I love when he bites. And then his kisses moved lower until they were all over and . . . Harry was late for work.
We spent almost an hour together before the alarm went off. And we hadn't even gotten to everything yet. I was just discovering him when the alarm went off much to Harry's chagrin; it's broken now.
Then the answering machine started with Guber's calls wondering where Harry was. After the fourth one we finally decided we couldn't spend all day in bed - it wasn't a weekend . . .
We have plans this weekend.
"Shirt?" he asks, coming out of the bathroom, his hair wet as he scrubs his hand through it. All half-dressed and . . . Harry. Wheee.
"Don't know," I say. He looks at me in said shirt and smiles, it's *that* smile. I've seen it a lot now. That's his 'I love you' smile. Took me a while to figure it out. He walks over to me and curls his fingers into the cloth of the Yankees jersey I wear and slides it off of me. He kisses my lips . . . That's . . .
"I love you." He says it first and it means a whole hell of a lot. "You're beautiful."
Compliments from all directions. He lays on top of me and I'm very glad I didn't bother to put anything else on because he feels so good on top of me.
"I love you," I tell him quite happily as I kiss him.
**
"Guess you and Dana made up," Kevin says as I walk into the Lounge on break. "Love that grin, latest style?"
"Shouldn't you be at home?"
"And miss my dearest friends?"
"You are such a gossiping old woman."
"Whose advice works, apparently," he says proudly.
"So you made me realize some stuff."
"That you were an imbecile? That I'm always right? That--"
"I get it," I say pulling out a bottle of water. "And . . . thanks."
"Oh, Harry, I am *so* touched right now."
"Jackass."
"Lucky bastard."
"Hey, Harry," a voice says. I whirl around to see Lauren standing there with an attempt at a smile firmly in place.
"Hey, Lauren."
"Kevin, how was vacation?"
"Sun, and . . . fun . . . I have some things to do," he says with eyes darting between up.
"No, don't leave. I'm just here to pick up Marilyn for lunch." She shifts from one foot to another while Kevin sits back down and I crack the cap on the water. I take a long drink and it's quiet before Lauren approaches me. "Harry, can I talk to you?"
My look must not seem to be nice because she steps back a little. "I don't know."
I don't think I want to hear her complain about Dana, in fact I know I don't.
"Just a minute and . . . it's not about . . . everything." She looks at Kevin and I cross my arms.
"Yeah. Okay."
We walk out into the hall and she sighs. "I know . . . we didn't happen the way we--"
I start to shake my head and she revises herself.
"It didn't work out how *I* would have liked. But it's over and . . . I know that. We have to work together, Harry, I just hope we can be cordial to each other."
"I never had a problem with that, Lauren. I wouldn't mind working with you on anything, besides, our issues shouldn't effect the school anyway."
She seems like she just remembered that and nods. "Right, that's right. So . . . we're okay?"
"Sure." I guess so. I never had a problem to begin with.
"Good," she grins. "I'm really glad. I mean with Dana and everything, you had to have realized it was a shock, I mean, it's *Dana*."
I kind of laugh and shake my head. She always puts her foot in her mouth. "I don't want to hear it. I'm with Dana, not the student, the woman, and I don't want to have to defend that. I shouldn't have to."
"Yes, you're right." Yeah, I know. "Sorry."
"Hey guys," Marilyn calls out cautiously. Her eyes scan us over and she looks at Lauren. "You ready?"
She smiles tightly and nods just as tightly. "Yeah, ready."
They walk away, Marilyn giving a supportive look as she goes, I head back into the Lounge.
"What was that?" Kevin asks.
"Quit asking for gossip!"
"Come on, it's my vacation!"
**
This couch isn't that bad. It doesn't go with anything in the apartment, really, everything else seems like Harry has had it forever, but it's comfy . . . Ooo, there's that nesting thing again. I look at the clock and my mother's been released by now, at least according to whomever I spoke to this morning.
I can hope she isn't going to the bar right now, but I'm not going to fool myself.
But I can hope.
"Dana?" Harry smiles. I tell you, new relationships, just seeing him there . . .
"Hi." I meet him with a kiss, long, lingering, incredibly delighted - reminding him that we didn't finish this morning.
"I love you."
"Look at you," I kid lightly. "Mr. All about the Emotion."
"Comes naturally."
"I love you." Look at us open people. Crazy.
"So I'm thinking, how bout we break rule Number . . . what's the shower one?"
I grab him by his shirt and smile. "Does it matter?"
**
We didn't make it to the shower, but the couch needed to be marked anyway. It's big enough to lay on without too much of me going over the edge, nice. Dana's on top of me, one knee on the couch, the other braced on the floor and *naked*, stunningly naked. She's smiling, all that hair spilling over me as her hips hover at my erection. I think she's out to kill me.
She kisses me with that smile and I manage to slip a hand up to rub into her slick sex and she moans, closing her eyes and moving her hips. Fuck.
The phone rings and since it's right next to us she jumps a little before laughing. We aren't getting it. I pull her down, kissing her as I manage to roll us over on the couch - it doesn't really match anything but I think it's my favorite damn thing next to the bed, and the shower . . . and the wall next to the bedroom.
Unfortunately, with Dana's hand over mine, I'm a little distracted, more so when she reaches down to grab me. I jerk forward, somehow hitting the table with my foot and unhinging the phone. DAMMIT.
Dana struggles up and looks a little hazy, picking up the receiver and trying to clear her throat before she answers. "Hello?"
I slump forward, but just for a minute, her breast too much of a distraction to stay interrupted.
Suffice it to say I'm surprised when she accomplishes putting a hand over my mouth.
"It's so nice to hear from you, Mrs. Droken . . . Rena."
Nothing a man appreciates more than a call from his mother during sex.
She pushes slightly on my mouth as I groan out my annoyance. "Harry? Yes, he's here. Sure."
She holds the phone out to me but I shake my head and push it away. Persisting, she holds it right up to my ear, but I don't say anything. She throws her head back onto the cushion under her with a silent laugh before looking at me, reaching up and -
"OW!"
"Harrison?"
Wily minx. I rub my nipple that she savagely twisted and lift my eyebrows in implication as her laugh becomes steadily less quiet.
"Harrison?"
"Yeah. Mom. I'm here."
"I told you to call, but I suppose you forgot your dear old mother as soon as she's out of your eye range." I struggle to sit up and Dana sighs a little, getting up and walking past me with a smile as she heads into the bedroom. I reach for my shirt, covering myself because, well, just because. "So what do you have to say for yourself?"
"I meant to call, things just happened."
"Well, I suppose I'll forgive you if you tell me you were romancing Dana," she hints. Kevin and my mother would make the best gossip partners - Ooo, did you hear about so-and-so? Why NO, tell, tell!
"Actually . . ." I can hear her grinning over the phone, I swear.
"So my look was right?"
"Yes. You were right." I'm a broken record lately.
"I just knew it, you two make the most lovely couple. Roommates? Phftt. All that stuff at brunch, too, oh, Harrison, I knew it'd work out. Let me talk to Dana."
Dana standing stark naked in the doorway, tilting her head.
"She's busy, Mom. Bathroom."
"I can wait."
Ahhhhh . . .
" . . . Really, really busy, Mom."
She doesn't say anything but then she chuckles softly over the line. "Oh. I see."
No, don't see it. The last time you saw you were trying to be mother *and* father, I didn't relish my first sex-talk.
"I gotta go. Bye, Mom."
**
When Harry comes into the bedroom, I look morosely at the clock.
"I have to get work."
He winces first, then sits on the bed, then flops back and puts a hand over his face. I reach over, stoking his chest, running my hand further down before stopping myself, it's not fair. To either of us. Getting up I go into the living room, finding and pulling on my clothes.
When I come back in, he's still on the bed, half-leaning against the wall. Still without a stitch of clothing, and looking at me . . .
"What's wrong?" He's silent and I already know. "I'm not thrilled about going to work either, Harry."
That's an understatement.
"Quit?"
"And live off of you? Sure, who needs a pesky paycheck? Wouldn't want to pay those overdue bills - adds character to the mailbox."
"Dana." Jealousy. Plain and simple. "I hate it, you know."
"I know," I say, climbing onto the bed and laying next to him. "But it's just a job, Harry."
"I know," he repeats in a mumble. "It's just that once I've seen . . . you . . . it's kind of hard to know other guys are too."
I sigh. Don't really have an answer for that one.
"I hate it."
"It's just a job," I repeat. "And I'm cleaned out, my bank balance is scary."
"We could send the couch back," he tries.
"That would be just wrong, no on wants a couch we had any kind of sex on. 'Sides . . . it's a good couch now," I play. ". . . I love you."
"I love you too. Which makes it really hard to see you do this," he says quietly.
And the way he says it . . . Ugh, he's going to make me lose my job! I understand what he's getting at, it was the same thing I've been thinking over lately - Privacy. We're together now and even if it's a job - the kind you disconnect your self from - it's like after that intimacy it should be just he and I seeing each other. It's silly, with today's outlook, anyway, but that's how it feels. I wouldn't exactly jump for joy at him shaking it for every Tina, Dina, and Sally.
Dammit.
"It's a job." Great defense. "Just a job."
It is. I know some of the girls love it, and some even get turned on being on stage, it was never like that for me. I got up there, smiled, turned a couple of times, got the money and that was it . . . I sound like one of those monkeys that dance to accordions.
And now I've begun to view it differently . . .
I sigh raggedly and lay my head on his shoulder.
"I've got to go."
I get up and go to the bottom of the closet, pulling out a pair of my work shoes. His gaze locks on them and I dangle the stilettos from my fingertips. They're glossy pink, a thick base and break-neck heel. He's never seen them before and I smile. He likes 'em.
But I'll bet he'd like to be the only one who sees them.
.
