MrNonesense: My mom knew a married couple named Jean and Gene. They were nice. I looked those jokes up online. I can sometimes come out with my own, but I wasn't feeling it that day.

Guest: I don't like the name "Bebe" so I didn't use it. I also don't like the name Ron Andy, which is why I only refer to genderswapped Ronnie Anne as "Ron."

STR2D3PO: I wanted things to be a little different, so I had Claudia like Luke instead of Loki.

Guest: I do have something planned for Halloween. Stay tuned.

Lincoln Loud spent most of Friday morning in a state of stomach churning suspense, worried that something would go wrong at the last minute - he didn't sleep very much the night before, and when he did, he dreamed of Linka. At 6am, he decided to get up for the day and take a shower, then realized it was really early and that he'd probably have to take another before he and Lisa left.

At breakfast, he ate slowly, forcing himself not to rush - going fast wouldn't get him to Linka any sooner, so chill out, huh, Linc? Enjoy your generic Cocoa Puffs and breathe.

Alright. Yeah. No hurry. Just...eat...then...hang out.

In the Loud house, morning roasts, as he told Linka, happen, and today it was Lana's turn: She sat between Lola and Lori happily slurping cereal and ignoring her sisters as they mocked everything about her, from the way she was dressed ("She looks like Dennis the Menace if he was a transvestite," Lola said) to her 'grossness' ("She's literally the most disgusting person ever," Lori said, "I've seen turds cleaner than her"). The fun ended when Luan started cracking puns, like it always did. Lincoln wasn't a fan of puns, but he had to admit, it takes a mad genius to be able to whip one up as quickly as Luan did.

After breakfast, he took his bowl into the kitchen, sat it in the sink, then went upstairs. In his room, he stretched out on the bed, grabbed an Ace Savvy comic, and tried to lose himself in the world of heroes and villains, but the excitement bursting in his chest ensured that his focus strayed. In just a few short hours, he'd be holding and kissing Linka, breathing in her smell, holding her hand, and tasting her lips. To say he was stoked was an understatement: His entire body thrummed like a high tension wire and each minute that ticked by seemed to last forever. Time's a funny thing: When you're having fun, it goes too quick, when you're not or you're waiting, it dragged on and on. Summer days come and go like a warm breeze; school days stretch into forever like an icy tundra. Lisa said they'd only have about an hour and a half, which wasn't very much and would pass in a snap. Even so, that was an hour and a half he'd have with Linka; an hour and a half to hold her and love her and gaze into her big brown eyes.

His stomach fluttered at that last thought, and he shifted uncomfortably. Of all the things he was looking forward to - yes, including having sex with her - that, looking into her eyes and stroking her cheek, was number one. When he locked gazes with her, he felt something unlike anything he had ever known before, a warm, tingling, soul-stirring connection. He'd tried to define and articulate it to himself again and again over the past couple days, but he kept coming back to one word: Right. It felt right, as though right there, with her, was where God meant him to be, where destiny had been leading him his entire life. It sounded sappy, but he honestly believed that Linka was his soulmate.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and setting the comic aside, he took it out: An incoming call from Linka. He smiled softly: She was just as excited as he was. Last night they talked before bed, and he could hear it in her voice, a giddy undertone that somehow made her sound even more beautiful than she already did.

Swiping his thumb across the screen, he lifted it to his ear. "Hey," he said.

The line crackled with static, and Linka's voice was faint. "...staticky today."

Last night, they both noticed more white noise than before. He brought it up to Lisa and she said it most likely had to do with a solar flare, as the screen was snowy when she and Levi video conference.

"I only got part of that," he said with a frown.

"I said...very...today." Her words broke and scrambled, only half of her message getting through.

"Yeah, you're breaking up pretty bad."

Hiss.

"..fine, you just sound...far away. Are...excited?"

Lincoln grinned. "Very excited. I barely slept."

The phone was getting warm very quickly.

"...either. I…"

Crinkle. Hiss. Pop.

Oooh, that last one didn't sound too good. You know how electricity can surge through outlets during storms and fry electronics? I wonder if the same rules apply here. "Look, I better go. If you can hear me, I love you."

"...you too...coln."

Sigh. See what kind of BS I have to deal with? No one else on the face of the earth has to worry about solar flares interfering with them talking to their girlfriend, or about the possibility of their phone overheating and blowing up in their hand.

Well, actually, that last one they do - lithium batteries explode all the time, which is why they aren't allowed on airplanes anymore. Still, you get the picture. I can't really complain, though; I get to talk to and see her, which is more than some couples get.

Setting the phone aside, he grabbed the comic and tried once again to occupy himself, but it just wasn't going to happen. What time is it? He glanced at the clock and sighed. 9:53. Four hours and seven minutes until he and Lisa climbed into the teleporter and set off for opposite world, four hours until he could finally hold Linka in his arms again and kiss the tip of her nose...four long, mind-numbing hours. He should find something to fill the time, but he didn't want to do anything. Except see Linka. That was about it.

God, this day's going to last forever.

And it did.

By 10:30 he was pacing back and forth between the desk and the door, six steps to one and six steps to the other. Twelve. Twelve minus one is eleven. Linka's age. His room was once a closet. Closets are where girls keep clothes. Linka's a girl. One of the games on his dresser was Legend of Zelda...in which you play as a character named Link. Link with 'a' on the end is Linka.

Everything went back to her, is what I'm saying.

Starting at 11:00, Lincoln ventured into the hall, going to the bathroom door then back to the desk, then to the bathroom door again, then once more to the desk. His sisters came and went like childhood playmates, the ones you meet at the park or the beach, have a great time with, then never see again. For a time, Lynn walked with him. "Why are we pacing?" she asked.

"Because I'm restless," he said.

"Why are you restless?"

"Because I have stuff on my mind."

"Why do you have stuff on your mind?"

Lincoln sighed. The day he ran out of the living room almost in tears and Lisa came after him, she told the others that he was upset because a girl he liked rejected him. The point was to get them to leave him alone, but it worked about as well as you'd expect: They didn't mob him, but almost all of them had come to him over the past few days bearing well wishes and encouraging words. You're literally the best brother ever, Lori said, You're amazing, Lincy, and I wouldn't trade you for anything...except maybe a shot at seeing Lindsey Sweetwater cry, Lola told him. You would think that Lynn would know why he had a lot on his mind (or to know the lie version) and leave him alone about it, but nope. It was okay, though, because he wasn't really heartbroken and even if he was, she meant well. "Because a girl I like doesn't like me back."

The corners of Lynn's lips turned slightly down. "Oh. Well...screw her. You're a cool guy. Kind of a dork, but still cool."

"Thanks," Lincoln said flatly.

"I mean, so what you read comic books in your underwear, and watch that gay ass King of the Rings stuff, and can't play sports to save your life, and who cares that your arms look like limp noodles hanging off a pencil? You're smart, and nice, and all that other stuff. Being scrawny and having a pigeon chest doesn't make one bit of difference."

Wait, I have a pigeon chest? He glanced down at the front of his shirt. "It's not -"

"I mean, you might be a geek and a nerd and you might be kind of anxious and overly angsty, but you have so many amazing qualities…"

Anxious? Overly angsty? Alright, I'll give you the first one, but not the second. My level of angst is perfectly proportionate to my age. And don't even pretend that you aren't angsty too, Lynn; I know for a fact that you're self-conscious about how small your breasts are. Lucy says you poke them and tell them to grow, and that you once had her do an enhancement ritual that she made up just to mess with you.

Okay, I'm getting defensive. Sorry. "Are you trying to make me feel better or worse?"

Lynn blinked. "Better," she said genuinely.

Well...her heart was in the right place, and that's what really mattered. He did not have a pigeon chest, though, and he was not full of angst.

After Lynn bounced off to go swat a ball, he was alone save for the occasional passing sister. Luan told him a joke; Lola asked him which tiara she should wear today, gold or silver (he said silver, she went with gold); and Leni stood on the sidelines tracking him with her eyes. "You're, like, making me dizzy. I'm gonna puke."

He broke for lunch at noon even though he wasn't very hungry - his feet were starting to hurt and his back too. In the kitchen, he made himself a ham and cheese sandwich, filled a glass with milk, and sat across from Lucy at the table; she was bent over a notebook, a neon pink pencil dancing across the page. What did Lynn say? He looked like a pencil with wet noodles for arms? "What'cha writing? He asked to make conversation. "A poem?"

"No," Lucy said, "my thoughts and observations."

Oh. "I didn't know you kept a diary."

"I call it a chronicle," she said, "sounds more interesting.'

Yeah, actually, it does. A diary is something a little girl writes about her crushes and her new shoes in, a chronicle is what a hardy sea captain records his manly and endlessly interesting adventures in. Aye, me and me 'arties did battle with Ol Blue Lips today. I still aven't got me millionth dollar back but I have a plan to make a trade with him, arrr.

"What are you writing about?" Lincoln asked and took a bite of his sandwich - it tasted like nothing in his mouth.

Lucy didn't reply for a moment. "My observations on the nature of evil," she said. "People say that money is the root of all evil, but it's clear from that ludacris statement that they haven't pondered the matter very deeply. Evil, in its purest form, is selfishness. The 'evil' person takes and does what he or she wants because they care only about their own gratification. The serial killer kills because he has urges; a husband who catches his wife cheating and kills both her and her partner does so because he feels wronged; the genocidal dictator sends people to the gas chamber because he doesn't like them; drug dealers sell crack because they need money. Almost every evil act ever committed, going all the way back to Cain slaying Abel, can be traced to two letters: M and E. ME."

Something like awe descended over Lincoln and his jaw dropped. Wow. He knew Lucy was a deep thinker, but that was insane. It also held up under scrutiny. True, he was only eleven and didn't have much life experience, but from what he did have under his belt...yeah, she's right, selfishness really is the root of all evil. "That's...that's something," he said.

Lucy shrugged. "It's a theory. I could be wrong." She snapped her notebook closed, got up, and slipped it under her arm. "If you need me, I'll be in my dark place."

"Which one?"

Lucy missed a beat as she presumably considered - she had several and used them interchangeably. "The vent over your room."

And that was Lincoln's least favorite, because when she was there, what little privacy he had went right out the window. She couldn't see him, but she could hear him...and smell him; one time he farted, silent but deadly, and a few minutes later he was startled out of his skin when a ghostly gagging and retching drifted through the grate over his bed. Wow, Lincoln, you should check your underwear.

Good thing he wasn't planning on being in his room.

When she was gone, he finished his sandwich then texted Linka. I'm really looking forward to seeing you. It was redundant and unnecessary, but he felt like talking to her.

Leaving his phone on the table, he went into the kitchen, rinsed him plate, then grabbed a Sam's Cola from the fridge. Because there were thirteen people in the house (isn't that an unlucky number?), Mom and Dad kept groceries on the cheap. No name brands and no extras. That cheese he used for his sandwich? That was a rare luxury - usually the only topping was potato chips. Hmmm. Love that crunch. Sam's Cola wasn't bad, but it sure wasn't Coke - Coke was the god of caffeinated soda drinks and Lincoln was its faithful servant.

He cracked the can open and took a drink.

Hey, even the most righteous among us slip every now and then.

In the dining room, he checked his phone, but Linka hadn't texted back, so he shoved it into his pocket and went into the living room: Lori was texting, Leni watched TV, and Lola sat in the armchair staring into a compact and doing her makeup. The Little Miss High and Mighty pageant was in a few weeks; apparently this year there was an apply your own makeup portion and Lola wanted to make Lindsey Sweetwater my bitch in it, so she'd been doing her makeup non stop, putting it on, wiping it off, then putting it on again every...single...day...

Lincoln dropped next to Lori and Leni and kicked his feet up onto the coffee table. "Down," Lori commanded without looking up. Lincoln sighed and planted his feet on the floor. On TV, a fat woman lay in bed looking like a quivering pink mass, while a man stood off to the side and shook his head sadly. "Sandy's weight is only getting worse, I hope Dr. Now can help."

"What are you watching?" he asked Leni.

"The fat person show," Leni replied airily. Her smile dropped and her forehead creased. "I feel really bad for them. They need a hug."

Onscreen, a car pulled up to a drive thru window while a female voiceover narrated. "Dr. Now said I have to eat light, but I've lost half a pound this week, so I think I've earned a cheat day."

The woman, her eyes lost in the folds of her fat, stuck her head out and window and placed her order. "I'll have two number 9's, a number 9 large, a number 6 with extra dip, a number 7, two number 45's, one with cheese, and a large soda."

That's a lot of cheating, Lincoln thought as he took out his phone. Still no text. When did he send it? He checked the time - ten minutes ago. That's a long time.

Well...not really. She has a life, after all, and she can't be glued to her phone 24/7. Since he was in the neighborhood, he checked his Facebook - there was a flamewar in the Ace Savvy Fans - Michigan Chapter group. It looked political in nature: He saw libtard and conservacunt and noped out. Miss me with that crap. Next, he checked the Ace Savvy page he and Clyde co-created - the sole engagement since last month was someone posting a poorly drawn piece of fan art: One Eyed Jack getting head from Ace. Lincoln squinted. Seriously? Sighing, he deleted it and banned the guy who posted it, then went over to Discord. The Ace Savvy server was abuzz with...oh, lovely, more politics. He closed out and checked his message thread with Linka. Still no response.

Sigh.

On TV, Sandy sat in a doctor's office while a hunch-back doctor with glasses chided her. "You were supposed to lose fifty pounds but instead you gained a hundred." Sandy looked down at her stomach like a chastized child. "I cannot do the surgery. Lose one hundred and fifty pounds, then we'll talk."

The next scene was of Sandy pulling up to a McDonald's drive-thru. "I'm real depressed because Dr. Now won't do the surgery. This should make me feel better."

"Yeah," Leni said sadly, "she needs a hug."

Lori blew a raspberry. "You literally wouldn't be able to get your arms around her."

"Well...where there's a will, there's, like, a way," Leni said with a determined nod.

Lincoln glanced at his phone. Still nothing.

Maybe he should take a walk around the block, unload some of this energy - as it stood now, his foot was already tapping and his drummed a nervous tempo on his knee. He looked at his phone again. No text.

Okay, maybe the text got lost or something. Lisa did say it happened sometimes. I don't wanna pester her and look like a dweeb, then again, if it was her texting me, I wouldn't think she was a dweeb at all.

Screw it.

He picked up his phone and dashed off a message then hit SEND. Just checking to see if you got my last message. He sat it in his lap and looked at the screen, where Sandy was lying in a coffin so big it could double as a duplex. "Sandy had every opportunity to lose weight and improve her health but would not put in the effort, now she's deceased."

The phone buzzed, and Lincoln's heart skipped. He picked it up and read the text. No. I was starting to think you didn't want to talk to me anymore, shadow boy. :(

Of course I want to talk to you. You're my favorite person.

Aww :) Now that makes me happy. I'm kind of restless lol. I can't wait for you to be here.

Neither can I.

That made him smile...and was enough of a pick-me-up to get him through the rest of the day. At 1:50, he slunk into Lisa's room and shut the door, his heart slamming and his stomach a pit of nerves. Lisa sat at the computer typing, a long cord running from the mainframe to the teleporter suggesting that she was setting the concordance or something.

"You're late," she said.

Lincoln froze. "Late?"

"Yes," she said, "I expected you in here half an hour ago jumping and squealing like a child on Christmas morning."

Oh. "I wanted to, but I held off. Is-Is everything still a go?"

Lisa punched a button and the teleporter began to hum. "Yes. I just spoke to Levi on video conference. He and Linka are alone." She jumped up and went around the end of the desk and toward the teleporter. "The reception was especially poor today," she said as Lincoln followed.

"Yeah, Linka kept breaking up earlier and we lost a text somewhere."

Humming, Lisa waved a card in front of a black keypad flanking the door, and it opened with a vacuum whoosh. She stepped in, and Lincoln came behind, his heart starting to race. He'd never used Lisa's teleporter before, and though he trusted her to have done everything right, calamity could still strike - like getting lost in between worlds like a fly between window panes or something. He was uncomfortably reminded of an episode of The Twilight Zone where this jet airliner somehow went back in time...and kept going...and going...and going until the passengers could look out their windows and see dinosaurs. A shiver raced down his spine and a vision flashed before his eyes: He and Lisa emerging from the teleporter in the year 22000 BC and being beset by spiders as big as houses. Hark, brother, the end is at hand.

It'd be even worse if they stepped out into the year 1985. Big hair, denim jackets, Ronald Reagan in the white house *shiver*

Lisa punched a button and the door swished closed. As she typed in a keypad, Lincoln looked around at the crazy confusion of knobs, levers, buttons, and flashing lights. How anyone could make sense of it was beyond him, but if anyone could, it was Lisa. "This is safe, right?" he asked.

"Of course it is," she said dismissively, "I wouldn't let you in here if it wasn't." She put her hands behind her back and puffed her chest confidently out. Lincoln relaxed a little, then tensed when the machine whirred and began to vibrate. Lisa's expression remained stoic and unchanged, so Lincoln forced himself to calm down.

The glass shimmered with electricity, then cleared, revealing Linka and Levi standing side-by-side, the latter with his hands behind his back in a posture identical to Lisa's and the former with her hands fisted to her chest and her face glowing with excitement. When Lincoln saw her, his heart burst and a goofy smile spread across his face.

"Here we are," Lisa said. She stabbed the button, and the door slid open. Lincoln waited for her to go, but she shooed him on. He stepped out, and Linka ran over with a squeal, hitting him like the cutest train ever and wrapping her arms around his neck in a bear hug that wasn't so cute. Lincoln's eyes bugged out of his head, but he hugged her back anyway, her warm shape feeling so right in his arms that he melted into a puddle of goo and soaked into the carpet.

"I missed you so much," she said and hugged him tighter.

He pressed his cheek to hers and drew a deep breath through his nose, her scent muddling his brain and making him drunk. "I missed you too," he said. She pulled back a little, and their eyes locked - Lincoln's heart sped up and his chest stirred. I'm right where I'm supposed to be, he thought and cupped her cheek in his hand; they leaned slowly into one another and their lips met softly, their tongues caressing in a warm, gentle greeting. She flattened her palms on his chest, then took his face in her hands as their heads tilted back and forth, their bodies drawing together as if by magnetism.

Lisa walked up to Levi and nodded, a sly smile on her face. "Levi," she said.

He nodded back with a smile of his own. "Lisa."

Linka pried her lips away from Lincoln's and slipped her hand into his, their fingers weaving together. "How was the trip? Were you scared? I was flipping terrified when me and Levi did it. I thought we were gonna wind up on Mars or something. And when I saw Lisa's room I thought it was Levi's and I was like 'huh? Did we even leave the house?' Did you see me through the window? I saw you and my heart started doing a happy dance. I said 'there's Lincoln!' It was pretty cool seeing the teleporter show up. The air got all shimmery like I was gonna have a flashback then BOOM, there it was." She laughed musically. Lincoln was so caught up in her eyes and the sound of her voice that he didn't realize she was leading him toward her bedroom; she probably didn't even realize it either - they just started walking.

"I saw you," he said, picking that to reply to because she kind of rambled and threw a lot out there. "And my heart did a happy dance too." He glanced to his right, and came to a shuffling stop - Linka kept going but jerked back like a dog on a leash. "Are those your brothers?" he asked and nodded to the framed picture on the wall even though he knew it was.

Linka turned her head and followed his gaze. "Yep. That's them." She lead him over and they both looked up, Lincoln's head swimming from the surreality of seeing each one of his sisters as a boy.

"Wow," he drew, "that's crazy." He reached into his pocket and took out his phone; Linka leaned curiously over to see as he went into his pictures. He found a selfie with all of his sisters crowded around (Lola with duck lips, Luna making the Devil horns sign, Luan giving Lucy bunny ears) and showed it to Linka. "The normal world version."

"Oh, wow," she breathed and snatched the phone away, holding it up in front of her face with one hand and tucking her hair behind her ear with the other. "That is freaking mind-blowing." She giggled. "Luke looks good as a girl, and Loki's really pretty." She darted her eyes from face to face, giggling here and there. "Look at Lars. He might look better as a girl. And Loni is adorable." She handed it back to him and looked at the photo of her and her brothers. "I always kind of wondered what it would be like to have an older sister. Someone I could do girl stuff with. Like manicures and facials and talking about boys." She looked at him. "You ever feel like that?"

Lincoln nodded; he had. Growing up surrounded by girls, he secretly wanted a brother, someone to do guy things with (jeez, I just unironically echoed Linka's words exactly), someone who was like a cool friend but more. He'd largely grown out of it, though; his sisters weren't guys, and he didn't have the same relationship with them that he would have with an older brother, but he loved them entirely, and they always had his back. What more can you ask for?

"Yeah," he said and stared thoughtfully at the photo, "but I wouldn't -"

"Trade it for the world," Linka finished. They looked at one another, and laughed to themselves, clutching the other's hand tighter. They both started to speak at the same time, then stopped. "You go first," Linka said.

Lincoln fixed her eyes with his, lifted her hand to his lips, and kissed her knuckles one-by-one. "I love you...and even though being apart from you sucks ass, this right here...this makes up for it."

A beautiful smile touched Linka's lips and her eyes sparkled. "I love you too, and I agree."

Lincoln smiled and gazed into her eyes; in her, he no longer saw himself, but his hope, his happiness, and, even though he was eleven and hadn't put much thought into the matter, his forever.

"Do you want the grand tour?" Linka asked and brushed her hair nervously behind her ear, the blush on her cheeks deepening and burning bright pink. Knowing her as he did himself, she wanted nothing more than to take him to the bedroom and make love to him, but jumping right in without grace or preamble seemed...wrong. That's what you do with a cheap hook-up, not the girl (or boy) you love.

"Sure," he said genuinely. "I'm kind of curious to see how your house is different from mine."

Linka batted her eyelashes. "A lot different. I have ten gross, smelly brothers. What does your bathroom look like?"

They were descending the stairs now. Framed photos hung from the walls, said gross, smelly brothers staring down at him like members of a jury, investigating his worth and finding him lacking. You're not good enough for Linka, dude. No, he probably wasn't, Linka was beautiful and perfect in every way, no one was good enough for her. All he could do was try his best. "A bathroom," he finally said, and she giggled sweetly.

"Obviously. I mean..how clean is it?"

Lincoln thought for a second. "Pretty clean," he started uncertainly, "I mean...messes happen. My sisters aren't immaculate, they can be slovenly too." They reached the bottom of the stairs, and Lincoln looked interestedly around the living room. The couch, armchair, and coffee table were in the exact same spots as they were at home, the TV too. A strange and out of place bookcase flanked the archway into the dining room, its shelves crammed with DVDs.

Following his gaze, Linka said, "Most of those are video games and action movies."

"Video games?" Lincoln asked.

She nodded. "Yep. My brothers can spend hours playing games. I mean, I like playing them too from time to time, but they're really serious about them."

Lincoln grinned. "That's really cool. All my sisters hate video games."

Every so often, he'd try to get Lynn, Luan, or Lucy to play with him, but they treated games like they were leprosy or something, which kind of surprised him. Lynn struck him as the type who'd go crazy for Madden, and he had more than one game that would appeal to Lucy (in fact, he bought Eldritch Abomination with her in mind), and Luan...yeah, he didn't really have anything for her. Having someone always on tap...say ten brothers...to play with sounded freaking awesome.

"I like video games, I just don't like playing them all day long." She placed special emphasis on each of the last three words, her eyes rolling to the ceiling. Lincoln couldn't say why, but she was so cute in that moment that he wanted to pounce her.

He restrained himself, however. "Yeah?" he asked.

Their eyes met and, if possible, she blushed harder. Biting her bottom lip, she nodded and glanced down at the floor. "I like to do other things."

"Like?"

She looked up at him, smirked, then shrugged her shoulders like a girl enjoying the embrace of a cozy blanket and stepped into his arms, hers slipping around his neck and her body pressing gently to his. Lincoln's heart skipped a beat or five, and his dick twitched against her warmth. The clean scent of her skin drifted into his nose and the feeling of her heart pounding into his made him weak in the knees. Her eye glinted with a mischievous light, and the corners of her pink lips turned slightly up in a playful grin. She leaned in, her nose brushing against his, and Lincoln gave himself to the moment; their lips met, her sweet, fragrant breath filling his mouth, then their tongues danced, slow at first, then faster as their passions rose, Linka ran her fingers through his hair and Lincoln ran his hands down her curved back and over the fleshy globes of her butt. She flicked her tongue across his and pulled back, sucking his bottom lip with a wet smacking sound. "You," she said.

For a moment Lincoln simply gaped at her, then he pressed his lips needily to hers and kissed her again, pushing her gently back; she held on and let him guide her to the couch, their tongues lapping and swirling around one another, licking and tasting every crevice of the other's mouth. Somehow she wound up on her back, her legs resting on either one of his hips and her socked heels braced against his butt; her head spun and her heart thundered in her chest, resounding through the chambers of her skull like a distant cannonade. Her core tingled in giddy expectation, and her nipples hardened to the point of aching. Lincoln broke from her lips and kissed her jawline, his hand fumbling at the top button of her blouse and his fingers slipping in, skimming her flesh and sending tendrils of pulsating pleasure into her center.

She purred into his mouth when he found her breast and cupped it in his hand, his body heat soaking into her and raising goosebumps on her arms and butt. He molded his lips to her pulse and lovingly stroked it with his tongue; she moaned and raked her nails across his back, her hips lifting insistently against his bulging erection, her pinching walls crying out to be stroked and teased, the itching back of her passage yearning to be prodded and scratched. Lincoln kissed her face, the corner of her eye, and the bridge of her nose, his breathing coming in hot bursts. Their gazes locked, and he threaded his fingers into her hair, his nails grazing her scalp and his palm cupping her cheek. He leaned in, touching the tip of his nose to hers, and a giggle bubbled up from Linka's throat.

Whenever she was with Lincoln, she felt good - that's the only word to describe it. Simple and understated, but true. The world shrank to just them, and none of her worries mattered; it was as though they existed alone, nothing beyond the parameters of their trembling bodies - not matter, not space, not even time.

Ghosting his thumb across her cheekbone, he pecked her lips and she darted out her tongue, tasting him and giggling when he winced at the unexpected greeting. She was reminded of a loyal cat kissing its master, and she grinned. "Meow," she said.

Apparently he was thinking the same, because they both burst out laughing, Lincoln's forehead smooshing against hers. His body hitched and the swell of his denim clad erection rubbed her through the fabric of her skirt and underwear, making her heartbeat increase tenfold...no, twentyfold. "You're a weirdo," he said.

"I know," she said and kissed his chin. "If that's a dealbreaker…" she trailed off and lifted her brow.

Lincoln pressed his lips to hers and drank in her breath, letting it steep his already addled mind, becoming drunk on it. "It's not," he said. They looked into each other's eyes, and in unison, said, "I love you."

Hearing those three little words, and earnestly speaking them, flooded Linka's chest with teh warm-fuzzies. She ran her heels down the backs of her legs and flicked his cowlick; it bobbed from side to side like a spring, and Linka mentally supplied her own boioioioioioioioing sound effects. He smiled warmly, and she kissed him. He kissed her back, and from their they lost themselves in a lazy collage of gentle stokes, hungry kisses, and reverent touching, both basking in the the other. Linka threw her head back and bit her lip as Lincoln attacked her throat with urgent pecks, his hand petting her inner thigh, moving higher, past the hem of her skirt and into her panties; Lincoln pressed his forehead to hers and stared intently into her shimmering eyes as he pulled her underwear down, his body smoldering and aching to be wedded to hers; Linka let out a breathy sigh when his fingers danced across her sensitive lower lips, slipping between them and into her inky well, her fluids oozing out and dripping down her thighs in translucent rivulets.

Planting his hands on either side of her, Lincoln shifted his hips and brought his head to her opening. Linka took his face in her hands, brushed her teeth across her bottom lip, and lifted her butt off the couch; his tip squeezed through her entrance and slipped in a fraction of an inch, making both of them moan. She unwound her legs from around his hips and raised them in a V. Taking that as his cue, Lincoln bowed his head and slid his hips forward with agonized protraction, his shaft sinking deeper. Her walls gripped him in a tight hello, Lincoln, I really missed you hug, and her breathing sped up, the beautiful sting of penetration fogging her brain with lust. He reached the entrance to her womb, then pulled back, his crowned head kneading her walls and making her shake.

She let go of his face, slipped her hands under his shirt, and traced the outline of his yummy muscles, a sharp yelp tearing from her throat when he thrust roughly. A shadow of worry flickered across his face and he stopped. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," she panted, then clenched her walls around his dick as hard as she could, making him jump. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he said...then thrusted, battering her cervix and making her wince. "You?"

Oh, so that's how it was going to be? She might not be a boy, and she might not be a very rough and tumble one if she were, but she could be preeeetty competitive when the spirit took her. She bore down on her teeth in anticipation of the discomfort to come, then squeezed again, bowing her knees and slamming her heels into his back, pulling him closer like a bug to a spider's maw. She winced and both of them let out a strangled cry.

"Okay, let's not do that again," she panted.

"Agreed," Lincoln said with a nod.

She skipped her fingers over his chest and ran her heels down over his butt. "Let's change positions instead."

Now he was the one lying on his back, his dick standing proud and tall like a skyscraper over a city skyline. She knelt between his legs, splayed her hands on his quivering stomach, and moved them down, her palms scraping his warm skin. His face burned scarlet, his muddled eyes swirling with the smoke of his arousal. Seeing him like that made her so hot she could barely breathe. She leaned over and placed a wet kiss to his stomach, her chest pressing his dick flat against his pubic mound. He moaned deep in the back of his throat, and she smiled into his skin, kissing lower, lower, his musky smell making her mouth water.

On her stomach now, she wrapped her fingers around his base and pulled his leaking head to her lips. A bead of precum dribbled down the side. She blinked and rolled her eyes up to his face in what she hoped was an alluring and seductive manner, then kissed his tip. Lincoln's breath hitched and his body trembled, making her giggle. "Do you like that?" she asked huskily.

He nodded.

"Good," she said, her heart pounding faster, "because I do too." She swirled her tongue around, then pressed her lips to his apex and pushed down, taking him all the way to the back of her throat. Lincoln's hips bucked and the iron tinged saltiness of his essence coated her tongue. A strand of hair fell into her face, and she brushed it aside, pulled back, then bobbed down again, licking thirstily at his oozing precum. Making him feel good was such a turn on, and she couldn't take it anymore; she spit him out, mounted him, and aligned their sexes, her fingers digging into his shoulders and her hair falling in his face like a curtain enshrouding them in their own secret garden. Lincoln put his hands on her hips and held tight as she sank onto his rod, her body wrapping around him like a second skin. She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip as quivering pangs tore through her stomach. Lincoln touched the side of her face and sighed when he bottomed out. She lifted her hips in a smooth, wave-like motion, her excitement gushing out around him, then jerked down, stars and whorls of pleasure scattering across the backs of her eyelids. She'd never had sex with anyone else, but she doubted that anyone would ever feel as right inside of her as him -not too big, not too small, just enough to spread her walls and rake the embers of her desire into a raging fire.

She tossed her hair out of her face and looked down into his upturned face; his skin blazed crimson and his eyes were even more limpid now, like a clear stream clouded with silt. She pushed herself up, then slid back down, taking him to her limit and arching her back, a wide, open-mouth smile crossing her lips at the way his left eye twitched. "You look like you're about to cum," she teased.

"No," he said, "I'm n-not." His voice was a husky whisper, and deep inside her, his dick throbbed in time with his heart, pulsing against her walls, which responded by contracting slightly in a warm, wet hug. He stared up at her as she pinned his shoulders to the couch and rolled her hips; his dick rotated in her, circling like a spoon scraping the last of the yummy yogurt from the sides of a container, and together they moaned.

Linka wasn't yet an expert in matters of sex (this was only her second time, come to think of it), but it didn't take a rocket scientist to tell when a boy was about to blow his load. DIlated pupils? Check. Panting uncontrollably? Check. Gritting his teeth and calling me mommy? Well...check for the first one. "Yes you are," she said and lifted her hips; her body gripped him tightly, molding to him and rippling as it scraped along his length.

WIth a shuddery breath, Lincoln nodded. "M-M-Maybe."

Thank God, she was about to go too; all she needed was a little more friction and she'd take off like a rocket to the moon.

She tilted her head, claimed his lips, and curled her tongue against his as she increased her speed. Lincoln wound his fingers through her hair and kissed her deeply. Perhaps picking up on her desire to finish and achieve nirvana, he threw himself into each of her thrusts, their bodies working in tandem to shove the other into bliss. Linka's end started in the tips of her toes and rushed up to her center, swelling and swelling like a one of those tinfoil popcorn things you cooked on the stove, growing steadily bigger, stronger, hotter, and when it blew, the entire house was coming down. She broke from his lips, the taste of his mouth heavy on her breath, and buried her face in the crook of his neck; she was gonna scream, and all she could do was muffle it.

Lincoln walked his hands to her undulating butt and held firm, then hooked his feet over hers.

Still swelling, still getting bigger, hotter, harder. Maybe she was imagining it, but she could feel his fluid coating her walls, thin and hot like oil. That was enough to push her over the edge, but before she could go, Lincoln expanded, growing in her passage and pushing it even farther apart than it already was. She gasped and grabbed his shirt in both hands as if to keep herself from being swept away, her teeth baring and her eyes squeezing closed. Oh, here it comes, here it comes, here -

He threw his body against hers and released, his thick, boiling seed gushing from him like a geyser and flooding her womb with wet, searing heat. Her own orgasm burst like a bomb, and she screamed just like she knew she would, thrumming vibrations racing through her body and blistering every pleasure sensor from the tips of hers toes to the very top of her cowlick. She held onto his shirt as the shakes swept her, a long, trembling nngh falling from her lips; her mind rolled away, and for one perfect moment, she existed only as a throbbing ball of crackling sensation without mass or form, light as air and free as a cloud.

When she came back to herself, Lincoln was holding her, winded and quivering as though he just ran a marathon. Aftershocks surged through her, and she jerked, a shocked giggle bubbling up from her throat. Through her bangs, hanging limply in her eyes, Lincoln's smile was hazed and sleepy, his eyes narrow, keeping them open too hard apparently. "Wow," she said.

"Wow," he agreed.

She rested the side of her head on his chest, the strong, regular beat of his heart soothing. He started to shrink inside of her, and pulled out in a gush of their mingled fluid; more seeped out of her, and she winced. Now that her mind was clear and her pussy satisfied, she realized what a flipping mess they probably made. She didn't even want to imagine it right now; she wanted to drift in the tide of their shared afterglow. Just for a little while.

Neither spoke for a long time, peace and tranquility lying heavily over them like a blanket - they were together and all was right in the world. When Lincoln shifted, Linka realized she was dozing. "I think we made a mess of your couch."

"I know," Linka said, drawing the word miserably out. She could feel him drying on her inner thighs, and when she moved, her knee bit into a wet spot. "Don't wanna get up, though. I'm comfy."

Lincoln kissed her forehead and she preened sleepily. "Me too."

They stayed that way for a little while longer, then Linka sighed and pushed herself up - she wasn't OCD, but knowing that hers and Lincoln's cum was soaking into the couch was really beginning to bother her. She imagined one of her little brothers sitting in it and a hot rush of guilt blew through her chest like desert wind. "I gotta clean it up," she said and got to her feet, nearly falling because wow, my knees are rubbery.

"I'll help," Lincoln said and sat up. "Then maybe we can play a video game."

Now that sounded like fun...but when you love someone, doing anything with them sounds like fun.

...okay, maybe not anything, but you get the idea. "Okay," she said, then grinned deviously, "and if we have enough time afterwards, we can have sex again."

In Levi's room, Lisa pulled a straight back chair up to the desk and sat across from him; leaning over, he reached into the top drawer, pulled out a bag of gummy bears, and took a handful before holding it out to Lisa. She snaked her hand in, closed her fingers over a sizable portion, then withdrew. "It's good to see Lincoln and Linka so happy," she said and tossed a few into her mouth. "I thought she was going to stampede him to death."

Levi chuckled. "He looked delighted as well." His eyes were dark and brooding, and Lisa knew that he was thinking the same thing she was, and feeling the same reservations. "The separation has been hard on them," he added.

"It has," Lisa nodded. "But they seem to be making it work." She pointedly lifted her brow, and the corners of Levi's mouth twitched upwards; he ducked his head and stared at his feet for a long time before looking up again. When Lisa's eyes met his, she felt a familiar stirring in her breast. She didn't know she was going to speak until she did it. "I'm quite fond of you, Levi," she said.

She was not surprised when he nodded, yet her heart rate did increase. "And I of you," he said.

Lisa was not sentimental or given to flights of fancy or melodrama, but regardless, those four words were the sweetest she had ever heard, and if she allowed herself, she would have grinned like a lovestruck fool. "Our...arrangements may not be optimal, but I find myself thinking of you often and when I see your face or hear you voice, I feel -"

"So do I," Levi confessed. Lisa's heart pounded when he reached out and took her hand. "And when I try to imagine the future -"

"You're always there," Lisa finished.

They both smiled. "It's not the perfect set-up," Lisa said, "but in the end -"

"It's worth it," Levi said.

Dizzy and light-headed with happiness, Lisa nodded. "Very much so."