Author's Note: Obligatory Valentine's Day chapter hoo-rah! Just kidding, this has plot and stuff, it's not pointless holiday fluff, I promise. But yes. V-Day. Chocolate. Condoms. You know the drill.
Actually, this is part one of our V-day arc, providing some set up and background that we'll need next time. You'll get the payoff on Feb 14th, of course :)
It's important to remember that we've never been in Izzy's head when he's being physical with Amy. For the first time, you'll get to see what he's thinking when they go in for a smooch. It might not be what you're expecting!
Anyway, mmmmmm-wah! That's the sound of a kiss. Specifically, me kissing you, my lovely readers!
Eros He Ain't, Pt 1
Breathe. You're alright.
Izzy was lying beside Amy on his bed, and she was doing that wiggling thing, a rhythmic hip sway that always preceded a clumsy kiss. He had no clue if it was a nervous tick or a sign of excitement, but all that really mattered was the outcome.
Sure enough, she shut the book she was reading and sat it on his desk, then shifted from her back to her side. A hand fell on his stomach, then slid to his side, running along its length. Izzy tried to keep his glance on his laptop's display, but it was no good; interest got the best of him, and his eyes fell on hers. She smiled, and Izzy returned it automatically. Strange how a twist of the lips could be so inviting and warm, so affectionate…
I've already lost. Without his consent, his hand drifted to his laptop's screen, pushing it down against the keyboard. He laid it on the ground beside the bed, never completely looking away from the girl who was stretching her body out along his. She took hold of his arm and tugged, and he followed the movement, letting her draw him in.
Their foreheads touched, her eyes averted, and there was no helping it now. What could he do? She expected a kiss, she wanted a kiss, and damnation, so did he. It was always this way. He didn't want to be physical, he knew what could happen if he let things go too far, but he also knew how enjoyable kissing her was, and, like all living things, he was born with a compulsion to seek out pleasure.
The usual arguments played through his mind. It's only kissing. Perfectly innocent, as such things go. Breathe. Kiss her. You're not skilled at displaying affection, and she might be hurt if you don't provide occasional physical indication of such.
This was so much easier when I was intoxicated.
Yes, and that went perfectly well.
He hesitated for a moment too long, and Amy took action, touching her mouth to his. It set him off like a trigger, and, somehow, he was bending over her, and his hand was caught up in her hair, and she tasted sweet and sparkling like champaign, with a rushing kick like whiskey. For a few surreal moments, his thoughts fizzled out, and there was nothing but sensation, an accomplishment that no other stimulus had ever managed.
But, inevitably, his brain fell back into gear, and he was suddenly aware that his free hand was on her breast, squeezing it through her dress. He sputtered into her mouth, then pulled away as if she had bitten him. He tried to apologize, but his tongue kept tripping all over itself, and he only sputtered some more.
Idiot. Fool! You can't afford inattention. If you don't keep a firm grasp on things, then who knows what direction this encounter might wander down.
Amy stared at him for a moment, then smiled, a smile that made his stomach flip like a ride on a roller coaster. For the first time, there was a bit of feminine mischief in her expression, an awareness of her power over him, and it was foreign and alluring. Then her glance averted, and she was back to her normal self. "I, I don't mind," she muttered.
Suddenly, her hips were wiggling again, and Izzy's eyes fastened on them. That was strange. The wiggling only came before the first kiss of the evening, before the ice was broken and snogging was officially added to the schedule. What's this, then? Curiosity consumed him, making him forget his straying hand.
Amy hopped off of the bed and walked to the far side of his desk. She pawed through her backpack, which was waiting there, and extracted a box. Her crossed arms held it against her chest as she returned to the bed, blocking it from view.
Izzy felt his brow furrowing. The color of the box seemed vaguely familiar, as did the size, but he couldn't place either. Amy's hands fussed with it, picking at the shrink wrap. He tried to wait patiently, but her shaking hands weren't making any progress, and he slipped it out of her grasp. She flailed after it, then froze, then stared awkwardly at the ceiling.
He wanted, quite dearly, to start asking questions, but he guessed that the box's contents would be more succinct than Amy's words. Thus, he flipped the package, his clever fingers searching for a good spot to tear it open.
He nearly dropped it when he saw the horse head on the front.
"Amy- these- these are-"
"I know what they are," Amy said, her voice going uncommonly high.
For a moment, everything felt so surreal that Izzy was tempted to pinch himself. But there was no way around it; this was reality, and, in reality, Amy had brought him a 36 pack of condoms. He stared, flabbergasted, at the packaging, as if he expected to find an explanation printed there.
As powerful as his brain was, it couldn't handle this, and Izzy dropped the box on the empty bit of comforter in between them. Amy's eyes flicked from the ceiling to the condoms, and her hands began to twist the fabric of her dress. "N-no?" she said at last. When he didn't provide a timely answer, she swept them away and shoved them under the bed, as if he had expressed offense.
"S-sorry?" Her hands moved to the collar of her button-down shirt dress, and Izzy realized that he must have popped a few of the buttons open at some point. She was trying to put herself back to rights, but her hands were trembling too much.
"Why 36 of them?" he asked, more to say something than anything else. Amy's cheeks darkened visibly.
"Because they were cheapest per cond- per unit that way."
"…Ah." Say something else, idiot! His brain was swirling with activity, but it was all blocked from fruition by fear. He had been afraid of this moment from the start, before the start, and, although he knew it had to come eventually, he was entirely unprepared.
For three months, Izzy had successfully limited their romantic interactions to kissing, and Amy hadn't offered much protest. Now there was an enormous box of condoms under his bed, and an extremely embarrassed girl on top of it, wiggling her hips in a way that beckoned to his hands, calling his fingers to sink into them, to explore, to slip upward and undo more buttons, to pause just long enough to get the shrink wrap off that box and-
Shockingly, this is not helping. Izzy cleared his throat and forced himself to move, until he was seated beside Amy. "May I ask why you bought them?" He was aware that the words were far from suave, and he put an arm around her shoulders to compensate. Her body stiffened beneath it.
"I, well, I assume you don't want to be a father yet any more than I want to be a mother." She was trying to play it nonchalant, but her eyes were on the ceiling again, and her hands were still wringing her dress.
Izzy closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe, to stay calm. "I was trying to ask why you chose now to introduce the topic of sex."
"Should I not?" Amy asked, and her uncertain, defensive tone had Izzy backtracking desperately.
"It's fine, it's fine. You didn't do anything wrong. I just… Please. I'd like to know what you're thinking."
Amy watched him for a long moment, her expression shifting from embarrassment and nerves to a grim sort of resignation. "Well… I guess I was talking to Mimi about… You know… My ex." Izzy twitched, and Amy began to speak more quickly, possibly in an effort to ward of questions. "You know, because she's always talking about sex these days, and she didn't know why it was making me uncomfortable, and she was asking about that, and somehow we ended up on my ex. And then she was all upset- Mimi was- and then she was talking about how terrible that was, but how I should try not to let that stop me from being… intimate… with you, if I wanted that. And I said I do want that, but yes, sometimes I wonder if it will scare me, and she went kind of nuts, telling me how great it is- sex, I mean- and, uh, how it can make you feel really good and really close to your partner, and I, I, I… I guess I want that. I mean, I do want that."
By the end of her speech, her words were a nearly indecipherable blur, but somehow Izzy made sense of every one of them, despite the fact that she was speaking into her lap. The shirt dress was miserably wrinkled at this point. He had to say something, he knew he did, but his mouth was completely dry, and nothing coming close to viable speech was forming in his mind. His insides were jittering and heating up, and it was all strangely itchy and unpleasant.
You know she can't say things like this easily, his mind told him at last. You know she's not deceiving you. For Tesla's sake, she's trembling like a newborn fawn. He forced himself to look at her, and his arm jerked when he noticed the liquid pooling in the corners of her eyes. He pulled her in automatically, holding her against his side.
"So… You're not interested?" she murmured. Apparently, she wanted to say more, but her voice broke pathetically, and she hid her face in his shoulder.
Izzy ran his fingers through her hair and swallowed a sigh. I'm more than interested. I've literally dreamed of it. Only once or twice since we began dating, but frequently beforehand. She would have benefited from hearing that, but he just couldn't say the words. It was too humiliating, too embarrassing, too base an admission. "I'm interested," he said at last, "but I don't… I don't think now is an ideal time."
His eyes closed when he felt a hot drop of liquid hit his shirt. "I'm sorry," she breathed, and she sounded so uncertain and miserable, like a lost child. "I'm sorry."
"There's no need to apologize," Izzy said quickly, rubbing her back. "You aren't at fault, and I appreciate that you… Frankly, I'm having trouble comprehending that you're expressing such desires towards me. Not because they're unwelcome," he added, sensing that the words were open to misinterpretation, "but because I'm not sure I merit such depth of feeling."
There was a long pause, then a winding sigh filled his ear, and he fought not to react to the ticklish sensation. "So… What's wrong with now?" Amy asked. Her hand landed on his knee, squeezing gently.
Ah, deuce. Izzy cleared his throat and made a faltering sound, searching for a solid, ironclad explanation. He had reasons, but he didn't particularly want to talk about them. But, on the other hand, Amy had just poured her heart out to him, saying that she wanted him when it was clear that he might not feel the same way. He had to say something.
He took a deep breath and released her, then laid out on the bed, inviting her to lay beside him by patting the waiting space. She hesitated, then obeyed, and that moment of uncertainty was oddly painful for Izzy. She's cautious. I've put her on guard.
"My primary concern," he began, wrapping an arm around her waist, "and please don't see this as me blaming you, but… I'm worried that you… Amy. We both know that you've been hurt in the past by intimacy, and I'm afraid of putting you in a similar situation. I care about you, and hurting you… Seeing you like that again…"
He wanted to say more, but the memory of Halloween night, of Amy's eyes filling with fear and panic, was enough to stall his thought process. Amy's hands cradled his face, and she rested her forehead on his.
"I'm okay, Izzy. How I feel about you and how I felt about Jerry… It couldn't be more different. It's true that I might feel scared if we tried, but I know you won't hurt me, so I'll be fine. And we can work our way up, I'd be happy with that, too. Just a little at a time. I don't mind just keeping the condoms around, you know… Just in case."
Izzy's hand tightened around her waist. She had turned aside his strongest argument, which meant that he'd have to talk about himself now, about the other reason he was avoiding intimacy. Without his knowledge, his breathing went shallow and quick, and his eyes began to flit about, as if in search of a reprieve.
"Izzy- what's wrong? Are you okay?!" The panic in Amy's voice made Izzy look right at her, and he saw wide eyes and a rapidly paling face. Her hand landed on his forehead, then ran down his cheek. "Do you feel sick? You kind of look nauseous."
This is pathetic. You're frightening her. "I'm fine," he said through gritted teeth. He forced himself to take a deep breath. "I'm fine." He reminded himself that Amy had told him everything about her ex. He had to tell her something about Shauna out of fairness, and to prevent pushing her away with his unexplained distant behavior.
But he sure as hell didn't have to like it. "Do you remember playing Kings on Halloween?" he asked, and he was unable to keep the reluctance and slight bitterness out of his tone.
Amy blinked, no doubt surprised by the sudden turn of subject. "Uh? I mean, I was pretty drunk, but I remember it. Why do you ask?"
"Specifically, the subject of our romantic histories was brought up," Izzy reminded her. She frowned, then tilted her head.
"I… Think I remember that? Yes- wait- Yes, I remember, because I really didn't want to admit that I wasn't a virgin, and Matt didn't want me to either, but I didn't want to lie, so I drank, and-" She came to an abrupt pause, her eyes widening by the second. "And… You did, too."
And just like that, humiliation flooded Izzy, making him want to stand up and walk right out of the room. "It's okay, Izzy," Amy said, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I mean, I have an ex, too. So does Tai, and so does Matt, and Mimi, too. It's just a thing that happens. You haven't given me a hard time over mine; why would I give you a hard time over yours?" She smiled in what she probably thought was a supportive way, but there was some uneasiness there. Izzy wondered if she sensed that there was more to this than what she was implying. On occasion, Amy was as perceptive as she was ditsy.
"That's not the problem." The only person who knew the whole story with Shauna- his version, anyway, the whole high school knew Shauna's- was Joe. His parents had most of the information, but Izzy had edited with them, because he couldn't stand to have them think less of him. And what he did say upset his mother far too much, anyway. He wasn't sure how much he could risk telling Amy, and, just as dangerously, he wasn't sure how much he could afford to not tell her.
"Izzy…" Amy tilted his chin up and kissed him, a sweet, entreating kiss, but he just couldn't return it. "You can tell me anything. I promise I won't tell anyone."
Izzy's eyes drifted shut, and he sighed. "I know. It's just… I was such a damned fool, and… I'm ashamed to admit it, but it's still painful. It shouldn't hurt anymore, I should have written it off as experience months ago. And it surely shouldn't be interfering with my relationship with you, not when I know that you lack the capacity for intentional injury. But somehow…"
Somehow, there were times when his fingers ran over smooth, pale skin, and his eyes saw a deep tan. Somehow, building desire morphed into fear and self-loathing, and Amy's happy little sighs sounded like warning bells. Although he knew logically that Amy wouldn't hurt him, and he functioned well enough in a relationship with her when they weren't being physical, there were just too many negative memories tied up in his sexuality.
Izzy shook his head, fighting to get out of his mind and back into the conversation. Amy was staring at him, and her eyes seemed to pin him down. They were keenly focused on his, as if secrets were written there. Piercing, otherworld eyes. Izzy swallowed hard, forcing himself not to inch back or look away.
"Tell me what you need." There was a strange authority to her voice, softened with warmth.
"You're… You're not going to inquire about what happened?" He knew the question was foolish. For whatever reason, Amy was giving him a reprieve, and he was asking why instead of embracing it.
She gave him a lopsided smile, and suddenly, she was normal Amy again. "You ask enough questions for both of us. You'll tell me when you're ready. I won't force it."
Izzy stared at her for a long moment, hardly able to believe what he was hearing. Then he bent over her and kissed her neck, paying special attention to a spot that elicited a soft sigh. Her hands closed around his upper arms, holding him in place.
"You'll still kiss me, right? And cuddle?" Her tone was mostly light, but there were definite signs of anxiety there. That, combined with the sudden strength of Amy's grip, revealed that she wasn't quite as at ease with things as she was trying to make him believe she was.
Izzy's lips pressed into a firm line, and he pulled away from Amy's throat. "I can't seem to help myself," he said. He passed his mouth lightly over hers, then brushed her bangs away from her eyes. He recognized that she was trying to spare him from an uncomfortable conversation, but he knew that she needed more information. He wasn't the only vulnerable party here.
"I need you to understand that my relationship with my ex was an unmitigated disaster. And… the fact that we were physically intimate caused a large portion of my humiliation afterward. I'm aware that many young adults have a… laid-back attitude towards sex. That's fine, so long as all the parties involved understand that the sex is casual. But, for whatever reason, I'm not able to be so free with myself. At the time, I was under the impression that we were dating exclusively, and that there was some level of mutual affection and attraction involved."
"She cheated on you?!" Amy's eyes went wide, and her mouth popped open. She grabbed on to him and held, as if his ex was some kind of monster that might crash into the room at any moment, trying to inflict more damage.
Bless her. She finds that concept shocking. Izzy patted her head, partially to soothe, and partially because he found her so endearing in that moment.
"She did, yes." He said it blandly, almost offhandedly. "But, more than that, she never had any feelings for me at all, not love, not affection, not even desire. And, when I realized that I had shared so much of myself with someone who held me in disdain, I… It was sickening. So much so that I still feel ill when I think about it. Worse yet, I… I know this sounds strange, and I hope you won't think I'm being dishonest with you, but I… I'm simply not as interested in sexual matters as my peers are. Before I began feeling attracted to you, aside from a few moments of curiosity growing up, the entirety of my sexual experiences and thoughts came directly from my ex. As a result, I seem to be having difficulty separating current sexual feelings from memories of her."
Amy stiffened, then pulled away. "You… You're saying that when you kiss me, you're thinking of…?"
"No!" Izzy cried, reaching for her shoulder. She was already tearing up, and he was cursing himself in the most colorful language he could conceive. "Not directly. It's more that I begin to remember how I felt when I realized that I had given too much of myself to the wrong person in the past."
She was silent and still for a long moment. "So… Then… Do you think I'm the wrong person, too?"
It was entirely inappropriate, but a dark, almost manic laugh bubbled out of his throat. "I'm completely failing to make myself understood," he said, shaking his head. His hands closed on her cheeks, and his thumbs landed near her eyes, brushing off the half-formed moisture there. "If you were another wrong person, Amy, I'd have no difficulties whatsoever. I'd still be blissfully standoffish, concerned with nothing but computers and math. It's only because you're so infuriatingly not wrong that things became so complicated…!"
The next pass of his thumbs dislodged fat, full tears, and he flinched as the burning liquid spread against his fingertips. "I'm sorry," she murmured, looking anywhere but at him. "I'm sorry. Do you… Do you want to leave…?"
Something died a sputtering, elongated death in Izzy's brain. He could feel the pop and fizzle of terminal failure as his mind tried to follow her complete lapse of logic. The rational part of him struggled for dominance, but, for once, it was trumped by emotions, namely acute frustration and something like hysteria. "Use your brain, woman!" he demanded, throwing his hands up. "Yours is a magnificent piece of equipment, if only you'd use it! There might have been a time when I wanted to, but it passed months ago. I have no desire to leave; I'm not leaving; therefore, if you're going to cry, then do so because you can't be rid of me so easily!"
Suddenly, he was aware of how heavily he was breathing, and of the fact that he was pinning her down again. The release of shouting was enough to put his brain back in control, but something about Amy's expression held him in place. Her eyes were wide, but there wasn't any fear there. Her full lower lip had drifted down, and her tongue passed over it in a gesture that wasn't quite nerves.
"Tell me what you need," she repeated, and there was an odd breathlessness to her tone. Izzy suddenly noticed that her dress was unbuttoned enough to display a round, pale shoulder, and the red bra strap curving over it.
Izzy lowered himself onto her, being careful to do it slowly, deliberately, giving her plenty of time to understand his intent, to object. "Your forgiveness. Your patience. Time." He paused, then kissed her cheek, partially to stall, but mostly because it was flushing so alluringly. "Your company."
Amy's arms moved beneath his, and he shifted enough to free them. Her hands settled on the small of his back, holding him in place. "Okay," she said, pressing her cheek against his. Izzy felt his body slowly relaxing, one muscle at a time.
"Thank you," he murmured. It occurred to him that he should have said more, that the words weren't payback enough for the gift being offered, but it was the best he could do. Amy's hands slid under his shirt, roaming up his back, and he let them, easing into the massage that following.
"Um, is there any chance of Joe spending the night in Mimi's room tonight?" The query was punctuated with a hesitant squeeze near the bottom of his shoulder blades.
"You want to spend the night with me," Izzy translated. Amy's fingers stiffened so much that he could perceive the callouses on the tips of her left hand.
"Just to share your bed. For sleeping."
He kissed her, then offered the best smile he could manage. "I'll see what I can do," he promised.
A Few Days Later
Tai slipped into Amy's room, hoping not to call attention to himself. His laundry detergent was gone, entirely used up by Amy in her quest to keep him presentable. He was currently less than presentable, and, on the day before Valentine's Day, this was an emergency situation. Large feet, typically accustomed to free, energetic movement, crept along the tile, trying to move quietly, inching towards her closet. Amy was bent over her desk, staring into the pages of an open textbook.
His hand landed on the closet door. Almost there, he thought, opening it slowly. It occurred to him that Amy would lend him the detergent, but this was more fun, and would take less time than an explanation. Maybe. Probably not. Okay, so it's entirely for fun. And bragging rights.
"I know playing ninja spy is fun, Tai, but… If you need something from the closet, you can just ask."
"Damn it," Tai grumbled, freezing in place. "How did you know I was here? You never looked away from your work."
Amy snorted into her book. "Tai. I love you." He braced, knowing that Amy used vows of affection to precede saying something unpleasant. "You reek of sweat."
Tai shrugged. He already knew he smelled; that's why he was here. "Yeah. I know. I came from practice."
"You didn't shower?" Amy asked, looking up at last. Her eyes ran over him, and she tipped her head and frowned when she noticed his still-wet hair.
"I did," he answered, somewhat sheepishly. "But, ah, it's kinda been so long since I washed this shirt-"
"Stop. Just stop. Please." Grimacing, Amy shut the book and rolled away from the desk. "Bring me your clothes," she said, sighing. "No offense, but you can't keep walking around like that."
"I was just gonna grab your detergent. I'm out." While it was easier to let Amy do his laundry, both his mother and Kari had made him promise to start doing it himself. Damn TK and his tattling. He didn't wait for her permission before sliding the closet open and grabbing the detergent. His eyes immediately landed on a bold blue box hidden behind it.
Tai's breath caught in his chest, and he felt his muscles freeze. "Amy," he said, trying and failing to sound calm, "why is there a 36 pack of Trojans in your closet?"
A loud, annoying squeak followed, then another. Tai pried his eyes away from the box and looked over at Amy, who was anxiously twirling her desk chair around. "B-because they were cheaper per unit that way," she said at last, fussing incessantly with her long hair.
Tai sat the detergent on the floor, freeing up his hands, as if he might need them for battle. "That's not what I meant." He glanced back over at the condoms, glaring at them, and found that they were, at least, unopened. He calmed marginally, regaining some of his lost control.
Amy crossed her arms beneath her chest and stared off to the side. "You never know when you'll need them, Tai. You've said that to me more than once."
"Well, yeah," Tai reluctantly allowed. He began to curse himself and his big mouth, particularly the bragging bravado of his mid teens. Thank God he hadn't said anything like that to his sister. Even his sixteen-year-old self had that much brains…. If only just.
But Amy, his shadow, Amy, who never judged him, Amy who, in a lot of ways, was one of the guys… He had said far, far too much to her, and it was finally starting to bite him in the ass.
"But… You haven't needed them yet," he said, picking up the box. Hopefully, his tone was as nonchalant as he was trying to make it. He shook the box, and the condoms made dull thudding sounds against the container.
A short, pudgy finger tapped her upper arm. She opened her mouth, closed it, narrowed her eyes, then bent over slightly, frowning. "No. And it seems like… Well, you can have them, if you need."
Tai felt a brow rising. "Sweet!" he said, tucking the box under his arm. Talk about solving two problems at once! "I do need them. And you know they charge like three times as much for everything at the convenience stores on campus. You buy your stuff off campus, right? Since Izzy's got a car."
"Uh, yes. I did get those off campus. They want almost forty dollars for that box here, it was just under fifteen where I got it."
Nodding, Tai pulled out his wallet. "I'm taking your detergent, too. I, uh, have a lot of stuff to clean, so…" He removed enough cash to cover both things, or at least he hoped so, then walked over to Amy. She stared at him blankly, making no move to accept. Sighing, Tai put the money down on her desk. "Amy. Your parents don't give you any spending money. Take the damn cash."
She ignored the money, but Tai wasn't about to take it back, so that much was solved. "Why are you suddenly doing your laundry?" Amy asked, tipping her head. A small smile tugged at her lips, and Tai couldn't help but wonder if she guessed his motive. Sometimes it was spooky what she could pick up on.
He shrugged, hoping to downplay his excitement, but a huge smirk was already forming. "Ah, you know. One of my old teammates is throwing an Anti-Valentine's Day party tomorrow. Singles only."
"Anti-Valentine's Day?" Amy echoed, her brow furrowing.
"It's like this," Tai said, taking a seat on her bed. "A lot of girls get pissed at the world if they don't have a Valentine, right? So essentially, some of them get to thinking, fuck relationships and romance."
"I think I see where this is going," Amy said, dropping her face into her palm. Tai's smirk took full control of his face, causing a slight pain in his cheek muscles.
"And so they go to a party for singles and prove to themselves that they're still hot and sexy, even if they don't happen to have a boyfriend at the moment."
"Annnnd it went there." Amy was shaking her head, but still smiling. "Tai. I'm going to say what I always say to you before one of these things."
Tai sighed and ruffled her hair. "Here we go," he muttered, rolling his eyes. He would never say it, but his annoyance was a front at this point. It felt good to have someone worry about him like this, and the ritual was oddly comforting.
Amy held up her pointer finger and fixed him with a serious look. "If you take advantage of someone, I will kick your butt. And then I'll tell Matt, and he'll kick your but. And then TK, then Kari, then your Mom, and then you'll be dead."
"Sure." He agreed easily enough, but it was a real threat, especially if word got back to his mother. Thankfully, he had no intention of ever doing that, so it wasn't a problem.
A second finger snapped up. "Wrap it up," she continued.
Tai shook the box of condoms. "Check."
"Don't put your mouth anywhere suspect without a dental dam."
"Define 'suspect,'" Tai returned, hoping to tease her, but she went on without blinking, raising the fourth finger.
"Don't get too drunk beforehand. Or after, but especially before." Tai just snorted. They both knew how much alcohol it took to phase him. "And be really careful with your heart."
"Yeah, yeah." Tai knew from experience that this was the end of the spiel, so he stood and collected his spoils. "Listen, I've got a shit ton of laundry to do, so-"
"You didn't let me finish," Amy complained, taking hold of his arm. Tai turned towards her, raising a brow in the process. That was the end, or, at least, it always had been.
Her grip tightened, and her eyes averted. "Have… have fun, okay? Good luck."
Tai froze, and his jaw went slack. Amy had always been reluctantly tolerant of his casual sex in the past, reserving judgment, but making her disapproval gently known. How and when had that changed? He muttered an agreement, then left the room, silently mulling over it.
But, by the time he was halfway through his second load of laundry, he had forgotten Amy's condom stash and change of attitude entirely, focusing instead on his hopes for tomorrow.
Author's note: Dear Amy and Izzy, how can you be so dysfunctional, yet have so much chemistry at the same time? The dichotomy between Izzy's uncertainty with being physical and how much he's drawn to keep touching and kissing her is sort of… making this really weird tension? Like, what even am I doing here…? I'm not even sure if I liked that scene and the tone it made, but I do like how… different they are together.
But it felt kind of good to write Izzy losing his cool, there. Sort of like, you know, playing your Xbox, and it goes "pwup! Achievement unlocked!"
Okay, I'll stop nerding all over you poor people now.
This chapter didn't have much action wise, but there are a few spots I like. One is that moment where Amy almost, almost got mad at Tai over his intrusive condom question. Another, as I mentioned, was Izzy losing his cool (wish I could be that eloquent when my brain fizzles out) XD And I think I also decided what will finally make Amy and Izzy learn how to really, really talk to each other about what they're feeling and thinking, and the answer might surprise you…. Which is always good!
And dude, what's going to happen with Tai? I'm pretty curious! (Wait, aren't I the one writing this thing? Oops!)
Oh yeah, one more thing. I love that Izzy's way of saying he likes someone is to declare that they are not, in fact, the wrong person for him. God Izzy. I can't even what are you thinking.
