A/N; More than half way there. This break is flying by (= Hope this chapter will be worth the wait.
Chapter 5 - Wednesday & Willpower
Where was he?
What was that eye piercing sunlight?
What was that eye piercing...cheetah print?
Shit, why was his cock throbbing like that?
Right.
He was in her room, in her bed.
For the first time ever, he was sleeping with a friend.
And his most recently acquired friend's body was currently pressing up against him in some very unfriendly like places. Not that he was complaining.
It was, hands down, the best sleepover he had ever had.
He had held her, fully encaging her with his much larger body until she fell asleep, him wide awake for hours, anxious like the ocean in a storm.
Cause this was trouble.
He had done some very good thinking. It was so difficult to know what made you happy when you hadn't yet experienced it, yet so easy to recognize it once you had.
Yeah, this was trouble.
He had finally given in in the early morning hours, allowing her peaceful breaths to become a soothing lullaby for his by her presence wired body and mind, blissfully drifting off into sleep with the memory of her beautiful voice still ringing in his ear.
At the moment, he wasn't sure if she was still asleep. He was pretty positive that if she was awake, though, she would have moved away from him as his morning wood was clearly and undoubtedly greeting her ass good morning.
It was a good morning, indeed. She had been awake for a couple of hours, her usual alarm clock of the piercing sun rays fulfilling their job like unfailing, dutiful soldiers. As per usual.
His soldier was apparently also reporting for duty. With a very straight posture.
His arm around her was surprisingly soft, not at all suffocating but almost reassuring.
It had been the best night of sleep she had gotten in ages.
She finally moved, reluctantly so, but her body was aching and needing to stretch, by doing so letting him know that she was, in fact, awake and inadvertently rubbing up against him in all the wrong yet so very right places in the process.
Completely on accident.
Or maybe not.
But what kind of friend would she be if she didn't thoroughly greet him good morning?
They laid there, well aware that the other one was awake yet unwilling, almost unable to move, the night long gone but neither of them quite ready to say goodbye to it.
She felt lightheaded, feverish, knowing that he was both the cause of and the medication for her sudden illness.
He couldn't stop himself from running his fingers over her, drawing small circles through the cloth on her back, similar to the once she had created on him with the sunblock on the beach the previous day.
Tingles. His hands on her created tingles, exploding throughout her body in fireworks of pleasurable sensations, and there hadn't even been any skin-to-skin contact. Yet.
Oh, oh, we're in danger.
She excused herself to go change and freshen up in the bathroom before her body once again pinned down her mind in their eternally on-going wrestling match.
He looked around. Her room was...well, a mess. Not that it was dirty, it wasn't, there were just a lot of...things. Maybe an organized mess was a more accurate description? There were stacks of books and folders, shoes everywhere, make-up and other things that girls deemed invaluable but he had no clue what they were important for fighting over space on the too few shelves, and an unhealthy amount of brushes and small boxes were situated in front of the mirror.
What the f was that on the other bed? It looked like a untamable cat had somehow mated with a flamingo, and the wild and all but eye pleasing love child was captured and made into a bed cover. The result was...baffling. But what baffled him the most was that someone had made the very questionable decision to actually purchased it.
There weren't a whole lot of pictures, but there was a small framed one on of the desks, of her and a couple and a another girl that resembled her. Her family. It was definitely taken a few years ago, as her hair was shorter and she looked carefree.
She had been pretty then.
She was beautiful now.
The room was different from his simple, not necessarily cleaner but definitely much more uncluttered, room.
Yet, he felt at home. Because it felt like her.
He realized that he needed to quickly do something about his morning breath, desperately searching through the shelves for some mints but only finding strawberry flavored bubble gum. Of course.
She returned, approaching him and stopping a little too close for comfort and a little too far away for his liking.
"Good morning", a shy smile on her face.
"Morning Pickle".
She could smell his breath. For some odd reason, it smelled like strawberries and reminded her of Trish. Weird. But nice. She kind of wanted to taste it. Taste him. Hmm.
"You're hungry?" her voice was not as neutral as she would have liked it to be. She was hoping he would be so that she would have a valid excuse to get him out of there. It was becoming increasingly difficult to hate grey when he was around.
He nodded. He was. And not just for her.
They journeyed towards the pantry, soon situating themselves on the all but comfy lounge sofa with the reoccurring bowl of cereal in hand.
"So, tonight is the night, huh?"
"Yeah"
"Are you nervous?"
"No" and he knew he was telling the truth. He was much more nervous sitting there on the couch with her. He was a little nervous about the song he was performing, though, not because it wasn't a good one but because it was painstakingly obvious that he had written it about her.
He tried to start the TV to distract himself, but it wouldn't cooperate, just an ant war playing out on the screen. There was an old, beat-up DVD player attached to it, and that, of course, turned on.
"Let's watch a movie or something".
She shrugged. "Sure, but I don't have any".
All that crap in her room and she didn't own any movies? Unbelievable.
"I'll be right back".
He returned, not five minutes later, a smile of happiness on his face and a stack of movies in hand. Most of them she had never even heard of before. And the ones she had, she hadn't watched for years.
"What did you do, raid the dollar section at the supermarket?"
"Maybe. But these are classics that I would have paid at least the double for."
So they spent the morning watching old movies, cooped up together on the beat up coach, their arms touching, her head periodically resting on his shoulder as he was reciting some of the lines. Somewhere in between watching the criminal fall in love with the princess, and Troy and Lelaina finally proclaiming their love for each other (she almost cried a little. Come on now. It was so obvious that they were more than friends), she realized that he was a romantic.
A cute romantic.
A sexy romantic.
Oh, if only she believed in love...
The end credits once again began rolling, her stomach was growling and she recalled that today, there wasn't an option of not to go to the grocery store. She was out of food. She rose.
"I have to make a run to the store. I guess...I'll see you later?"
"Can I...can I come?"
"I thought you hated the store".
He shrugged. How could he explain to her that he would do absolutely anything with her, even cut his nails or go...cloud watching...and he would never, ever be bored?
It didn't sound like a super friendly thing to confess.
"Beats sitting here by myself getting nervous."
He took a few steps and remembered something.
"Oh, and Pickle, I'm driving."
He walked to his room to change.
Holy crap.
He had made it.
He hadn't done anything stupid.
She was killing him, slowly, but he had survived.
Barely.
...
Apparently, his hangover the other day had calmed him down, because today he drove like a just-old-enough-to-drive speed car racer with an all-consuming death wish.
"Would it kill you to go less than 90?" She was holding on to the passenger seat as if she was scared of falling out of the car.
"Would it kill you to live a little?"
She shook her head and he just laughed and sped up even further.
They started off with a joint cart, but she soon realized that he was not so secretively unloading all the things she put in there at the same rate that he was adding them, with the very-not true-reasoning that her picks were boring.
She got her own cart.
He spent 10 minutes unsuccessfully trying to convince her to by a different brand of pickles. Just because.
Then they argued, several times, over the different products as well as price and flavors of chips and the pros and cons of lemons versus limes despite none of them actually buying either of them.
He somehow convinced her to have a cart race down one of the seemingly empty aisles, she was unsure if how he did it but she was pretty certain that there were some pouting and puppy eyes involved, and then she almost ran into an old man who unexpectedly popped up at the end of the aisle and inadvertently becoming a very unwilling target. She almost hit bullseye.
She exited, pretty sure she had only managed to gather about half the things she came there for, and loudly reminding herself never to go grocery shopping with him again.
"You were right, that was fun."
And when she thought he couldn't hear her, she giggled.
...
"Can I give you a ride to the Bar tonight? I'm not drinking."
They were back at the dorm, having just put away the groceries.
She nodded. Neither was she. She could care less about Trish's rules, which quite honestly she was pretty sure she had misunderstood anyways, or making money.
She was staying sober.
They met downstairs a few hours later and she was once again wearing shorts because it was hot. Outside, that is.
...
They both greeted Kira with a smile and a hug, him soon walking away to prepare for his performance and her taking her place behind the bar.
"So how did it go with you guys the other night?" Kira's voice was teasing yet curious.
"With what? Who?" She feigned innocence.
Kira gave her a look as if she was stupid. "With you and the fucking president. You and Austin, of course".
Oh.
"You could see your guys' chemistry from, I don't know, the other side of the Atlantic ocean. I know he's on a break from his girlfriend, from what I know you're single, I just assumed...you, know, one plus one equals..."
She blushed, confirming Kira's assumption without uttering a single word.
Kira just smiled. So it had gone exactly the way she had predicted.
Good.
She bartended for a few hours, the place more packed and alive in comparison to Sunday night and she found herself so busy that she didn't realize it was almost time for his performance.
Jimmy came by and let her end her shift a few minutes before he was set to start. She stepped out from behind the bar, taking a few steps before feeling an arm descending around her shoulder, at first thinking it was him, but it didn't feel quite like it, it didn't feel quite right. She looked up and her eyes landed on a tall, brown-haired man that she didn't recognize and didn't want to be familiar with.
"Can I buy you a drink?"
"No, thank you, I'm..."
"She's here with me." She looked up and saw her salvation in a secular age, the savior she had not known she needed but realized she had been looking for.
He pulled her in, almost violently tugging her away from her unwanted companion before he let his lips brush against hers, softly, lovingly, unfriendly. His arms were around her and for a split second, ok, maybe a split minute, she wished it was real.
The other man walked away, defeated.
He was whispering against her lips. "I can't leave you alone for even short periods of time, it's crazy".
The earlier performer was finishing up, and Jimmy was signaling to him that it was his turn.
"It's time. Stay out of trouble, please."
He kissed her forehead before walking up on the small stage. For some reason, that made her blush more than the soft kiss that was still lingering on her lips.
She mouthed a "Good luck" and he gave her a thumbs up.
And suddenly, there was just him and his guitar, on top of the high barstool, the bar darkened except for a small spotlight on him and the microphone.
"This song is for a friend of mine" and his eyes bore into hers like well-aimed darts.
The first few words were a blur, she was still dizzy from his pretend kiss, but she could hear something about keeping up a guard and breaking it down. By the chorus, she was not just mesmerized but hypnotized, his beautiful voice putting her in a trance, but she could now clearly hear his words.
No matter what you do I'm gonna steal your heart.
His eyes didn't leave hers, as if this was a private concert much like the one he had treated her to a few days prior, the rest of the audience fading into obscurity as all he cared for was her.
And she instinctively knew that he had written it for her.
The last few notes rang out, the applause from the audience snapping her out of her trance as she barely remembered where she was at.
She knew where she wanted to be, though.
At home.
In bed.
With him.
"Oh boy." Kira was suddenly right next to her.
"What?"
"He's...he's got it bad. Worse than I thought. "
She raised an eyebrow at her newfound friend.
"I've never seen him look at anyone else that way. He definitely doesn't look at Cassie that way. And that song..."
She almost choked on her water.
"You know complicati...Cassidy?"
"Yeah. We've known each other since freshman year. She's sweet. I knew her before Austin, actually. Im closer to Austin, now, though. "
"Oh."
She had had this weird misconception that her absent competitor was, if not the evil stepmother then at least maybe the stepsister.
But apparently, she wasn't.
She was sweet.
It was a weird feeling, the realization that the girl who cared for the man she by now absolutely cared for wasn't a complete bitch.
It had been easier to think of her as one.
"I..we...Austin and I are just friends."
Kira didn't even bother to answer, just treated her to a look that said it all.
She didn't believe her any more than she believed herself.
He approached her and she all but ran towards him, him picking her up and swirling her around in the air as if he hadn't seen her for years.
She wanted to.. she had no idea what she wanted to do. Well, she had some ideas but they were all extremely unfriendly.
So she settled for a close hug, a loud whisper in his ear.
"I have never heard anything more beautiful".
Funny, she had never seen anything more beautiful, either.
He looked happy, thrilled, drunk off of life.
He looked alive.
"I..."
A slap on the back interrupted him.
"Austin, that was amazing. Come back tomorrow and we'll discuss the next one. And be prepared to sing. Tomorrow is karaoke night." Jimmy sounded enthusiastic and they nodded in agreement before walking away, Kira smiling behind them as they exited the place together, his arm still around her shoulders, protectively, possessively, perfectly.
...
It was late, and as they were getting back at the dorm, this time around giddy off of non-artificial highs, he realized that he wasn't yet ready to say goodbye to her. Even if it was only for a few hours.
"Are you tired?", his voice hoping for a declination.
And she noticed that she wasn't.
Must be due to that good night's sleep.
She shook her head.
"Good. Let's go to the beach."
"Did you take a few shots when I wasn't paying attention? I don't like the beach. And it's the middle of the night."
"Come on, Pickle. Live a little."
Was that his new mantra or something?
He sensed her hesitation.
"When you're old and gray, with wrinkles everywhere, even your small toes, did you know that by the way? That your toes can wrinkle? So, picture it, full-blown raisin body. Is that the time to go skinny dipping? No. No it is not. For the sake of the world, it is not. Come on now. When would we ever have the beach to ourselves again? Think about it, when you're telling old tales to your grandchildren, don't you want to be able to say that you went skinny dipping in the ocean with a handsome stranger under the moonlit sky?"
He was rambling because he was nervous. He desperately wanted her to turn him down, yet praying for his life that she wouldn't.
He should major in freaking persuasion. Or puppy-eyeing.
"Fine. Let me change into my bikini."
"Skinny dipping or skimpy bikini. Your choice. I'm okay with either or. I'm not picky." Smirking. Why was it so attractive when he did that?
Their eyes interlocked. "I promise I won't let you drown", his voice sincere.
She already was.
As she walked away towards her room, he pumped his fist in the air as if he had won some sort of prize.
He looked like a dork.
...
"So how's the thinking coming along?", her voice loud in the quiet night.
"Making lots of progress. You?"
"Not thinking as much."
"Good."
They walked together towards the beach, and he grabbed her hand. If she was to question it, he would simply tell her that he was...protecting her from the...nighttime wild animals, or something.
She didn't question it.
The beach was serene, as beautiful as she had pictured it, the water almost still and the moonlight reflecting in it as if it was an enormous hallway mirror.
She undressed. "Don't peak", her voice teasing, knowing that he would because she sure as heck was.
Holy mother of God.
She was suddenly not so unaffected by his bare chest.
Or his v-shape.
Or his happy trail.
Or just him, in general.
For the world of him, he couldn't understand her dislike for bikinis. It was as if they had been invented with her in mind, and she was not just the ideal model for but also the ideal model of it.
She approached the water, hesitantly, letting her toes hit the surface. It was cool but not cold. He was right behind her, ready to persuade her as he knew she probably would change her mind. She didn't do water, after all.
But she didn't hesitate. She walked in, determined, as if she knew that if she didn't do it quickly, it wouldn't happen.
He followed, slower, the cooling liquid making him shiver.
He was in it knee deep. And he wasn't just talking about water.
She dove in, soon swimming, the water not cold but soothing, a balm for her muscles and her soul, the moon above functioning as a very large guiding light in the dark night.
And she shivered as she realized that he was her sun, ironically so due to his last name, hot and warm and full of energy. She was the moon, futilely trying to hide in darkness, unsuccessfully so as his beams reflected off of her and revealed her hiding place to the world. And funny enough, when he was around, she simply didn't feel the need to hide. Nor the want.
He was standing a few yards away from her, his hair wet, some drops trickling down his by water half-covered bare chest as the moonlight was making love to his handsome facial features.
She swam up to him, him welcoming her with open arms as she wrapped her legs around his waist, the water lifting her body and making her weightless, like the current status of her heart, and her head.
No words.
They were both fully aware that they were about to play with uncontrollable fire, despite being surrounded by miles upon miles of water.
And they wouldn't have it any other way.
Their faces were close, so very close, his breath heavy and coming out in short pants through his nose, she could see that he swallowed hard when she leaned in, as if he was terrified yet thrilled, almost as if he was about to get onto the emotional roller coaster ride she was currently embarking on.
She only knew the feeling because she was currently experiencing the exact same one.
And then she kissed him because she could not not do so and because there was nothing in the whole wide world in that moment that she wanted to do more.
And she continued to kiss him because when his lips was on her mouth, in her mouth, heaven was absolutely and undoubtedly a place on earth.
He walked them through the water towards the beach, carrying her, his tongue licking hers, thirstily drinking her in as if she was the ocean and he was dying from dehydration.
He reached for the towel, straightening in out on the sand with her still wrapped around him, putting her down on her back on top of it and blanketing her with his body, their tongues still interconnected as if there was no other state for the two of them to co-exist.
She suddenly regretted their drunken hookup even more, because kissing him mindlessly was, from what she could remember, fun, but kissing him mindfully was downright mindblowing.
They were soon rolling around on the soft sand, the sounds of their lips exploring each others the only noise in the otherwise quiet night, the grains getting all over her and sticking to her in all sorts of places and it was neither just fantastic, amazing, nor wonderful but all of the above.
Her hands were running all over his bare back and naked chest as the moon finally came out to play with the sun as the night met the morning.
He was using every ounce of willpower not to untie the side strings of her bikini bottoms and take her roughly on the sand.
Shit, he wanted to take her roughly, feel her wetness that he was sure to be present embrace him in tight, intimate hugs.
He was kissing the top of her breast, her nipple hardening and peeking through the thin material of her bikini top and he nibbled on it, lightly, her responding moan making his dick twitch against her leg.
Time to go back.
Before there was no going back.
As they were making out on their way back to the dorm, she pushed him down on a nearby park bench, straddling him, her core digging into his steel hard cock, teasing him relentlessly through his low-slung board-shorts and her very skimpy bikini bottom. She was licking his neck, the salt from the ocean water mixing with the flavor of him making her moan out loud and he had to clench his fists into knuckle-whitening balls as to not push her down on the bench and animalistically fuck her brains out.
She shivered and she let him believe it was because of the breeze.
She shivered and he knew it was because of him.
Amazing.
They continued their excursion towards the dorm, and as they got there, he pressed her up against the lobby front door, not caring at all if the security guard could see them, the bottom of her hair still damp from their swim and some lingering water drops running down the glass as her head was pressed back up against it, his lips glued to hers as he couldn't get enough of her. His groans were ringing out into the spring night, echoing throughout the nearby parking lot, mixing with her moans in an unsynchronized yet breathtakingly beautiful serenade.
A slight desperation slipped into his kiss as he knew that he soon, too soon, in the matter of minutes, needed to, had to, say bye to her.
Scratch that.
It was now a matter of seconds.
He broke away, panting heavily and hardly able to speak.
"Night pickle".
And he ran into the dorm.
She was left behind, speechless but grateful.
Grateful that one of them, at least, had some sense of self-control.
She was grateful.
And incredibly horny.
...
She was in the shower, the warm water unable to wash away the images of his tongue on her.
The sand, rather than her tears this time around, blending with the hot water swirling down the drain.
And she realized that she didn't hate the beach. Didn't mind the sand.
She had just made out under the stars. In a bikini.
Way to live a little.
And as she was heading to her room, alone, she observed the undecorated hallway walls.
She had never really noticed the color before.
They were a light shade of gray.
Such a beautiful color.
...
He was in the shower, the warm water unable to wash away the images of her tongue on him.
Ahhhhhhhh.
And as he was heading to his room, alone, undoubtedly headed for a lengthy jerk-off session, he sighed in relief knowing that this time around, he was doing it right.
But some committee should award him a fucking honorary black-belt in willpower.
So there may be a few song lyrics in here (=
The next update will take a few days, I'm superbusy and life is kicking my butt.