Heh... remember, children: I like unraveling tidiness.
And this damn title really is just... Bri.
Chapter 4 / Tippin' on Four Fours
Was the night eventful? Was the night chaotic, dramatic, quixotic? Was the night something for soldiers to write home to their sweethearts about? Sure, maybe, kind of. It was fun and easy and what all birthdays should be; nothing at all like the pervious ones. The unimportant people began clearing out by 2am while the others kept going well past four. Endless chitchat about new albums and Jude moving back to the small apartment she'd rented out on the west end of Toronto mingled in amidst old war stories and laughs of grandiosity. If all parties up until then had been the cloud, tonight was the silver lining.
The moon was beginning to fade into the backdrop of the skyline as Jude and Tommy said their final farewells to the guests who were too tired to stand let alone drive. Sometime around one, Jude had brought about the discussion of spending the night together to further catch-up, Tommy skillfully dodging exasperated "come on's" and flirtatious "you know you want to's" but finally relenting and agreeing to the plan. He knew that it must have looked odd seeing as they'd spent countless occasions at each other's apartments for nightly and often week long sleepovers, but he knew this wasn't the same.
They arrived silently and sleepily to Jude's hotel and ascended up to her room. Jude keyed the door and they both fell into the room.
"You can look in that suitcase," Jude motioned toward a large rolling case against a dresser, "for a shirt. I'm pretty sure one of yours is in there."
Tommy nodded dumbly, leaving the loveseat to rifle through the case. He was immediately overcome with familiar band tees and faded jeans; finally pulling out the oversized shirt he'd seen her wear one too many times. The arms had been cut off and the hem was unraveling, it's once pristine black reduced to an over-washed grey. Orange paint was splattered across the front while white paint lent itself to decorating the back.
"Tommy?" He looked up to see her arms thrust behind her back, elbows bent in severe angles. "Will you undo this damn thing? I'm not even sure how I got in it! There has to be a million hooks back there!"
"Yeah, no problem." He threw the shirt across the small sofa, coming up behind Jude. She sucked in her stomach, his fingers nimbly unhooking the clasps. He struggled after the tenth hook, growing frustrated with it. "You know? Next time, demand a zipper."
She laughed, feeling the last one give way to freedom and a deep breath. He stared down at her bared back, unconsciously running his hand along the indention of her spine. Even now, even after everything, he loved the feeling of her skin against his hands.
"Thank god!" Jude pushed the dress down from her chest and over her hips, stepping out of and clearing the deathly "contraption". "I thought I was never getting out of that dress!"
She turned around, breasts and thighs and everything exposed, and walked to the opened pack Tommy had just rummaged through. Tommy blinked hard at the mental images invading his brain, trying hard not to look at Jude knelt on the floor. He scratched nervously along his forehead, screwing his eyes tightly shut, Jude looking over and chuckling at his distress.
"Oh, PLEASE! You've seen me in a lot less than panties. Chill!" She threw one of her shorter shirts over herself, striding up in front of the still closed-eyes Tom. "Are you going to sleep in your monkey suit or do you want to change?" He mumbled that he'd "change in a second" and to his surprise, she yanked cleanly on his tie.
His eyes flew open while she just grinned and walked towards the bathroom. He went to work undressing, getting down to Jockeys and sliding into the faded t-shirt. He lay down on the bed yet couldn't manage to get Jude's figure out of his head. He tried focusing on the color of the curtains and the wood grain of the night stand and the pattern of the couch to no avail. He knew that if he didn't stop his thoughts soon, it was be one very long, much unfulfilled night ahead of him. Still, her blatant comments weren't lost on him.
Jude had always made a joke out of her sexuality, Tommy thinking it had something to do with nerves or inferiority complexes. The first time they'd had sex, she'd giggled a good week afterwards. She took every opportunity to throw out a secret, yet obscene, comment his way but if he reciprocated his comedienne, she'd blush furiously and tell him to shut up. Always Jude, she could dish it but taking it was a lot harder to swallow.
His eyes followed her as she walked around the bed and flopped down next to him, leaning against him and smiling distantly.
"When was the last time we did this?"
He thought for a moment, trying to recall when they had done this and he could only see long, swirling flaxen hair. He fingered one of her stray strands, messaging at its softness.
"You had long hair is all I know."
"That long?" She asked incredulously. "And to think you didn't want to do this. Silly Quincy..."
He puffed out his chest, defiant to her moniker for him. "Well, yeah... because... you know."
"Yeah; you still want me."
"Maybe..." He lingered reminiscently, letting the word hang in the air comfortably. The truth was that he did still want her but it wasn't easy for them anymore. Not that it had ever been easy in the first place, but now was a totally different thing. Too much seen, too much done, and too much been through, it was beyond admitting that you still wanted someone and vice versa.
"Remember last year when you decided to dye your hair red again?" He broke the quiet with probably the most random, neutral thing he could come up with. Jude stifled a throaty laugh at the disastrous use of highlighting cream.
"Baby, my hair wasn't red. It was this insane mix of blonde and neon pink. It took three boxes of bleach to get that stuff out. I still shudder in the hair color aisle."
"No one told you to use red dye for dark hair."
"Yes, well, the lady said it would just be bright. I didn't think her version of bright was watermelon Kool-Aid."
Tommy chortled loudly, thinking of the first time he'd seen her after the dying affair. It was one of those weekend trips and she wouldn't come out of the bathroom until he swore on his grandmother's head that he wouldn't laugh. Man, he prayed hard after that, hoping his grandmother would be okay for killing the promise.
"It didn't help matters that it smelled like watermelon Kool-Aid, huh? What was that stuff you used anyway?" They thought for a moment before both busting out with "Sephora Smoothing Balm". A fit of hysterics filled the room as they remembered the horrid amount of bees the styling product attracted. "Man, I missed you."
His voice came out more melancholy than he'd wished, hoping it would seem like more of an enjoyment of company instead of idealistically needy. Jude settled into the eerie silence his comment created. Tommy kicked himself for saying it out loud, for thinking it at all.
"Always good to know, but I'm back now so no need to miss me." She smirked while pushing herself to her side of the bed. "But now we sleep because tons of champagne and 5am doesn't equal a good moving day. Lord knows you hate waking up before noon on Sunday."
"You're right about that. Night, Jude." Tommy shifted smoothly beside her, flicking off the bedside lamp and the pair pulling the heavy comforter around them. Jude leaned over and pecked his earlobe for the final time that night, pulling back on a wink as he stiffly adjusted his shoulders into the mattress.
"Night, Tommy." Soon, he fell to sleep while Jude lay awake still, watching on admiringly amused. "Silly Quincy..."