Author's Notes: This has come surprisingly quickly in comparison to the painful process of creating the last few chapters. I just hope it works.


Chapter 17

Otis opened the door just as the latest peal of the doorbell died away and he stared at Maeve standing on the doorstep, still wearing her Speedy Grill shirt over the maroon striped top he remembered her wearing on the first day of term.

"Sorry, we have enough bananas, thanks," he said.

"Fuck you," Maeve said as she stepped forward and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"I suppose one more won't go astray."

"That's going to get real old real fast, dickwad," she said, glaring into his eyes.

"Scary woman. Got it," Otis said and stepped aside for her to pass.

"Better believe it," Maeve said, smirking as she walked past him.

They entered the kitchen and Maeve could see the table was partially set for two.

"Jean not here?" Maeve asked.

"No, she has a date with Ola's dad."

"Are they serious?" she asked, curiously.

"I think so. Mum asked me which dress she should wear."

"So?"

"She's never asked me about which dress to wear on a date."

Maeve pursed her lips and nodded. "What's he like?"

"Seems nice. I don't know. Haven't had much to do with him."

"So Ola really is going to be your step-sister." She smirked. "Greg."

Otis scrunched his face. "Don't start that again."

"How do you feel about that? Having a step-dad?"

Otis frowned. "I hadn't thought about it."

"And Ola being here when I come over?"

"Um…"

"Freaked out yet?"

"No," said Otis, unconvincingly.

Maeve smirked again and put her bag down on a chair then turned to Otis, holding the hem of her shirt, frowning.

"Do you mind if I wash this? Some idiot spilt mayo on it."

"Sure. Give it to me. I'll put it in the machine."

"Take your photo first. The stain shouldn't show up."

Otis frowned then remembered. "Oh, I left my phone upstairs."

"Use mine. I'll send it to you."

Maeve reached into her bag and took out her phone and handed it to Otis. He took it and swiped then held it out to her.

"You need to unlock it," he said.

"'Clinic17'."

Otis typed, frowning. "You shouldn't tell me your PIN."

Maeve shrugged. "I trust you."

"Got it," Otis said, holding up the phone.

"How do you want me? Natural, or porn star pose?"

"Natural," Otis said, firmly.

Maeve smirked and glanced around then walked over to lean against the bench by the sink, tilting her head and smiling defiantly at him.

"Say 'banana'," he said and took the photo.

"Fuck you," Maeve said then took off her Speedy Grill shirt. "Remind me to take it with me when I leave," she said, handing it to Otis as he handed her the phone.

"I'll hang it up where we can see it," he said as he put the shirt in the machine, added a small dose of laundry liquid and pressed 'start'.

When he turned back to Maeve, she was watching him with a small smile flickering across her lips.

"What?" he asked.

"You looked really sexy doing that," she said softly.

Otis frowned in puzzlement.

Maeve shrugged. "You have your turn-ons. I have mine."

Otis smiled shyly and Maeve walked across to him, put her arms around him and reached up to kiss him. She had spent all day missing this.

"So what are we having for dinner?" she asked.

"Lemon butter chicken breasts. I thought something simple."

"Sounds nice."

"Just got a few minutes more prep and then I can start cooking. They don't take long."

"Do you mind if I have a shower first? Borrow some of your clothes? I'm kinda sweaty."

"Sure. Towels are in the tall built-in next to the bathroom."

Maeve kissed him again then looked directly into his eyes and asked, with a soft smirk on her face, "Do you want to come up and talk to me? I don't mean outside the door."

Otis drew in a soft breath and kept his gaze connected to Maeve's. "I still have to do some prep. I'll start cooking when you're finished."

Maeve studied him curiously then nodded and released him. "Won't be long," she murmured.


Otis straightened the plates and cutlery on the bench for the third time, wondering how long she would be, then he heard soft footsteps on the stairs and turned to watch her walk down wearing one of his over-sized grey t-shirts and darker grey loose shorts. He wondered if she was wearing pants underneath.

Maeve walked over to him, softly smiling. "That feels better," she said and studied the contents of the plates on the bench. "What's first?"

"I can do it, you just—" Otis began then saw disappointment flicker across her face. "Um, actually, you can slice the lemons. Thinnish slices. I'll just pop these in."

Maeve smiled softly to herself and grabbed a lemon and a sharp knife and began to slice. Otis picked up a chicken breast and placed it in the pan with the simmering butter. He turned the heat up a fraction.

"They look really nice," Maeve said.

"Very easy to cook," said Otis. "Stuck strictly with the recipe tonight. Thought of using olive oil instead of butter – less saturated fat – but we've run out."

"Butter's fine."

"There's some rice in the steamer there. I'll put it in bowls for each of us once we're cooking the chicken and lemon together."

"This looks really good, Otis. Thanks for asking me over. I would have probably just thrown some noodles in the pot if I was at home."

"Mum's actually right," Otis said. "You should cook nice meals for yourself a little more often. I know money's tight, but I can teach you some really cheap meals that taste fantastic."

Maeve put the lemon slices on a plate and grabbed another lemon. "Did she say anything about last night?"

"She thinks we slept together."

"Did you tell her we didn't?" Maeve asked, quietly.

Otis shook his head. "Just let her think it."

He flipped the chicken pieces in the pan then frowned, took a small breath.

"Are you going to tell Aimee about-?" he began, tentatively.

"No fucking way," said Maeve, almost shocked he would ask.

Otis gave her a look of regretful apology.

"I mean, she'll ask what we did," Maeve continued. "I'll tell her about your magic fingers."

Otis smiled shyly at her.

"She'll probably ask me to let her try you out for herself," Maeve said blandly.

Otis scrunched his face. "Does she mean it? That thing with the kissing?"

Maeve shrugged. "I don't think so. She's with Steve and I've never known her to cheat on anybody and I don't think she'll dump him for you."

Otis nodded, letting out a small breath.

Maeve looked up at him, smirking. "You seem disappointed. So you want to sleep with your step-sister and with my best friend?"

"I do not want to sleep with Ola and Aimee," Otis protested.

"Why not? What's wrong with them?" Maeve asked, blandly.

"There's nothing wrong with them," Otis said, turning red.

"So you do want to sleep with them?" Maeve said, putting the last lot of lemon slices on the separate plate.

"Maeve…" Otis almost whined.

Maeve grinned up at him. "You are still so easy, muppet."

Otis shook his head and started removing the chicken breasts from the pan and placing them on a small plate. "Death of me, Maeve Wiley," he muttered. "Death of me."

Maeve ran her eyes across him as he started placing lemon slices in the pan, amazed all over again at how cute he could be when he was flustered.

"So what are you going to tell Eric?" she asked.

"I don't know. I'll have to think of something."

"You can tell him I wanked you off. Don't have to let him know it wasn't all the way."

"He'll probably be going on again about how we broke your bed."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, when I invited you over, he said you'd take one look at mum's art collection and drag me upstairs for so much energetic sex we'd break my bed."

Maeve smirked and glanced around the room before looking back at Otis. She was about to say something but changed her mind and instead said, "You break my bed, you buy me a new one."

"It would be a joint effort," Otis protested.

"Doesn't matter," she said, staring at him thoughtfully.

Otis started to flip the lemon slices in the pan.

Maeve alternated her gaze between the lemon in the pan and the chicken on the plate. "So how much longer? I'm starving."

"Couple of minutes I can put the chicken back in the pan and then it won't be long. You can put the rice in the bowls while we wait."


Maeve finished the last of her rice and put down her fork and settled back into her chair, staring across at Otis.

"I think your mum was underselling you," she said.

"Oh, this was simple. It was nothing complex," Otis said with a shrug.

"Take the compliment," Maeve said firmly. "Own the victory."

Otis pressed his lips together and nodded. "Thank you," he said.

"I'm thinking what I can cook for you someday."

"I like noodles," Otis said.

Maeve smiled wryly. "It'll be something better than that."

"What meals can you cook?"

"Sean taught me how to do spaghetti carbonara," she said.

"That's nice. I like that," Otis said.

"Okay, spaghetti carbonara. After I get paid."

"There's no rush."

Maeve took a sip of water.

"Oh, do you want some wine?" Otis asked. "Mum still has some open in the fridge from last night. Or I can check if there's beer in the other fridge. I think we still have some."

"You going to have some?"

"Um, probably not."

Maeve shook her head. "Then, nuh."

"Don't let that stop you. If you want to drink—"

Maeve smirked knowingly at him. "You just want to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me."

"I'd never—"

"I know you wouldn't," she murmured.

Otis sighed. "Maybe I should let you get me drunk so you can take advantage of me."

Maeve looked at him, intrigued. "How much do you think it would take?"

"Six bottles of Talisker," Otis said.

"Christ," Maeve laughed. "You'd be in the morgue."

"At least I'd be stiff and unable to faint," Otis said with an uncertain smile.

Maeve laughed in surprise and studied him curiously, then she looked around the table and said, "Let's clear up the table and—" She frowned. "What are we going to do now?"

"Do you want dessert?"

"What do you have?"

"Chocolate mousse. Strawberry cheesecake. They're in packets but they shouldn't take long to thaw. Or there's…" He hesitated. "Banana and caramel ice cream," he said uncertainly.

Maeve set her jaw against a smile. "Strawberry cheesecake sounds nice."

"Great," Otis said, relieved. "I'll get it out."

He stood and hurried to the fridge to remove the cheesecake and place it on the bench.

"Five minutes should be enough. Maybe ten," he said as he turned to see Maeve carrying some dishes to the sink. "Oh, let me do that," he protested.

"You've seen my place," Maeve said. "I need the practice."

Otis smiled gently to himself then walked to the table and grabbed some dishes and carried them to the sink. "Just put them in the sink. Dishwasher needs emptying."

Maeve turned and put her arms around his waist as he reached the sink. He smiled and put the dishes down and let his arms encircle her. She smiled gently up at him.

"Thank you for dinner," she murmured and rose up to kiss him.

"Glad you liked it," Otis murmured.

Maeve held him for a few more moments, smiling gently at him. "Aren't you warm in those trousers?" she murmured.

"You want me to take my trousers off?" he asked, surprised.

"You've got boxers on, haven't you? Not going full commando?"

"I never go full commando," he said with a knowing smile.

"Well?"

He hesitated. "I didn't have a shower since this morning. Let me have a shower first."

"Okay," Maeve said quietly, releasing him.

"Won't be long. Dessert will be ready when I get back."

He started toward the stairs then noticed Maeve moving back toward the table.

"Oh, leave them," he said. "They can wait until I get back down."

"Okay," she said with a shrug, then picked up her drink and took a sip.

Otis nodded and hurried up the stairs. Maeve watched him thoughtfully until he disappeared from sight.


Otis nervously walked down the stairs as quietly as he could, wearing a light blue t-shirt and his light green boxers that closed with a single button. He had wanted to wear the light blue checked boxers to almost match his shirt but it was still in the wash. He had ignored the two-button boxers. He didn't want two buttons tonight.

He stopped on the mid-point landing and glanced down and made sure he wasn't sticking out. He could see a bit of a bulge and he knew he wasn't completely dormant - he knew that before he put them on - but he wasn't as awake as he had been in the shower.

He swallowed uncertainly. He'd been thinking about this all day – the next time they were together -and he had many, many revelations. Or maybe just one important one. But he was still a little nervous.

Not Lily-style nervous. Not even the nervousness he felt last night. This was a different type of nervousness. This was an anticipatory nervousness but not like the anticipatory nervousness he felt before he and Maeve moved to her bedroom and last night went pear-shaped. This was a new type of anticipation. A new type of nervousness.

That comment from mum had more repercussions than he could ever have thought.

He suddenly felt as if he was being watched and looked up to see Maeve sitting on the lounge, book held in one hand, gently watching him.

He blushed.

"You just going to stand there all night admiring Silent Otis or you gonna come and join me?" she asked.

Otis blushed even more, if that was possible. "Silent Otis?" he asked.

"Well, Little Otis doesn't really fit and I thought calling it Jawbreaker was a bit too soon," she smirked.

If his face got any hotter, Otis knew he would spontaneously combust.

Maeve giggled – no, she never giggled – and jerked her head and said, "Get on over here, muppet."

As an embarrassed Otis walked over to sit beside her, Maeve settled her bookmark in place then put her book down beside herself.

She shuffled position to face him, one leg curled up under herself. "It's okay, muppet. Continuing on from this morning isn't why I wanted you out of those trousers."

Otis looked at her and frowned and Maeve noticed a flicker of almost-disappointment cross his face.

"I just wanted to see your legs," she said.

"My legs?" Otis asked, surprised, and glanced down at his legs spread before him, frowning. "There's nothing special about my legs."

"Au contraire, mon cher."

He scrunched his face and looked at Maeve. "You like my legs?"

Maeve nodded and looked down at his legs. "I do," she said.

"Why?"

She shrugged. "Don't know. Just do."

Otis shook his head in puzzlement. "Okay," he said uncertainly.

Maeve studied his face for a moment, then asked quietly, "Did you want to continue on from this morning?"

"Oh, we don't have to," he stammered.

"Do you want to?" she asked softly.

Otis took a breath and looked at her and Maeve was now certain he did but she wasn't surprised or disappointed when he murmured, "Maybe later. Dessert should be thawed out by now."

"Okay," Maeve said as they stood and walked toward the kitchen.

"Let me just—" began Otis then stopped as he saw the table was clear. "Oh, you've done it already." He glanced across at the sink and noticed it was clear also and he realised Maeve must have emptied the dishwasher and packed the clean dishes away.

"Had to kill time," Maeve said. "And I've hung my shirt out."

"Thank you," Otis said appreciatively as he glanced at her yellow shirt hanging up.

Maeve shrugged. "You get the plates and I'll start cutting."

Otis walked to the cupboard to grab two dessert plates while Maeve grabbed a knife and began slicing.

He placed the plates on the bench beside the cheesecake then searched in the drawer for two dessert spoons.

When the slices were on the plates and they each had a spoon, they walked to the table and sat down.

"Ooh, this is good," said Maeve after taking a spoonful.

"This was always my favourite as a kid. Mum would have to stop me sneaking into the fridge and eating the cake at one sitting."

They ate in silence for a few moments then Otis sighed softly.

"What?" Maeve asked.

"I was just thinking. I should tell Eric, shouldn't I? About the thing with my dad."

Maeve looked at him sympathetically. "It's up to you, Otis," she said gently.

"We've been friends since we were nine and I've never said anything about it. I should tell him."

Maeve ate another piece of her cheesecake and watched him silently.

Otis nodded decisively. "I'll tell him on Monday," he said. "I'll tell him something on Monday."

Maeve kept eating her cheesecake in silence until she was sure Otis wasn't going to say anymore.

"So what are we going to do after we finish this?" she eventually asked, indicating the cheesecake.

"We could watch a movie," Otis said. "We have Netflix."

"That'll take too long. I can't stay too late tonight."

"You…" Otis began then continued hesitantly, "You could stay here tonight."

Maeve thought about it then shook her head regretfully. "I'd need to get home in the morning, have a shower, grab new clothes and then get to the bus-stop."

"I can ask mum if she can give you a lift in the morning. She's an early riser."

"Do you think she'll be home tonight?"

"If she isn't, I can get you a cab."

"That's too much. No way," Maeve said firmly.

"You can borrow my bike."

"How will you get to school on Monday?"

"I'll manage."

"That's miles, Otis. I can't see you sitting on Eric's handlebars all that way."

"You don't need to go home. You can go directly to the bus stop from here. It's not too far."

Maeve sighed. "I'll still need a change of clothes."

"Your skirt's okay, isn't it? We can wash your top and… other things."

Maeve shook her head. "That bra won't be dry by morning and I'm not wearing a damp bra again."

"Maybe you can borrow one of mum's."

Maeve gave him a look as if he was an idiot. "We're not all interchangeable, Otis."

"What size are you?" he asked.

Maeve smirked and straightened, pushing out her chest. "What size do you think I am?"

Otis kept his eyes on Maeve's as long as he could before glancing briefly downward. "I don't know," he said, embarrassed, wondering if a minefield had snuck up on him while he wasn't looking.

"34C," she said wryly. "What's your mum's size?"

Otis blinked a few times then said, in a very small voice, "I don't know."

"Thank god for that," Maeve muttered.

"Sorry, I'm pushing," Otis said as he stared down at his cheesecake and raised a spoonful to his mouth.

Maeve watched him silently, gently amused. "You really want me to stay, don't you?" she asked quietly.

"If you can't… It's just… We're not going to see each other at school this week."

Maeve sighed fondly. "Don't tell me you plan on sleeping on the couch."

Otis looked up at her, softly hopeful. "I thought we could… sleep in my bed. It's tight, but we know we fit."

"What if you wake up with a boner?" Maeve asked quietly.

"I won't panic. I know that now. And we can just… deal with it if it happens."

Maeve ran her eyes across him for a few moments, then softly asked, "What happened today?"

"What do you mean," Otis asked, puzzled.

"You seem… different than this morning. You're wanting to wake up with a boner with me. I'm making all these sex comments and you're not freaking out – mostly," she amended. "Not like you used to."

"I freaked out a couple of times."

"Those were different," Maeve said then remembered and laughed, waving a hand at him. "And that fucking comment about being stiff in the morgue. Surprised the shit out of me."

Otis gave a small smile and nodded, breathing softly, thoughts turning inward momentarily.

"What happened?" Maeve asked again, quietly.

Otis took a slow deep breath. "I've been thinking a lot. About last night. This morning. And something mum said. She was joking, but…"

"What did she say?" Maeve asked, softly.

"When she asked me which dress she should wear, I said I didn't want to say in case I got it wrong and Ola's dad preferred the other one and mum said, 'Cowardice doesn't become you, Otis.' She was joking," he said earnestly, "but…"

"What did that mean for you?" Maeve asked, gently.

"I'm sick of being a coward."

"You're not a coward," Maeve said sharply.

Otis took a deep breath and sighed. "I have lived so much of my life with fear. In fear. Whatever. And you know what one thing FEAR means?"

Maeve was silent for a moment then said, softly, "False Evidence Appearing Real."

Otis nodded. "False Evidence. Those feelings. Those memories. Those aren't real things to be afraid of." He looked Maeve directly in the eyes. "I don't want to be ruled by false evidence anymore."

Maeve's breath hitched but she kept silent.

"When I was jerking off this morning," he continued, "it was okay. My hand… felt okay. Your hand… Aaagh, freakout." He waved his hands in the air. "Same activity. Different feeling. Why? False evidence."

Otis sat back and looked directly at Maeve.

"It's all been false evidence," he said.

"So what does this mean for us?" Maeve asked, softly.

"I'm not ready for sex. Fucking. I'm not going to try that until after I talk to someone."

Maeve nodded and studied him silently.

"And I'm not saying I won't still freak out a little sometimes. I told you, healing is closer to a spiral than a straight line."

Maeve nodded and took a soft breath.

"And I'm not saying we have to– I'm not pushing, Maeve…"

Maeve nodded, hoping he could see that she truly understood.

"But if we do do anything… if something happens… I don't want to be afraid of it anymore."

Otis stared at Maeve, watching her tender gaze upon him.

"There's a bit of 'fake it till you make it' but a lot of it's real. And I know I thought I could push more before all that shit last night but this feels different."

"A lot's actually happened since last night," Maeve murmured.

Otis nodded. "We've talked about it. I had never talked about it. That's made a huge difference."

Maeve wandered her tender gaze across his face, pressing her lips gently together.

"I don't know if you realise how much talking about it with someone I trust has helped," he continued. "I don't know if you realise how much you've actually given me ever since we bumped into each other."

Maeve drew in a slow breath.

"I could never have understood any of this without you, Maeve."

Maeve blinked a few times and swallowed.

"Thank you for being my friend," Otis said quietly, never taking his eyes from her.

Maeve hitched in a breath and pushed her chair back and began walking around the table toward him.

He pushed his chair back and started to rise but stopped as Maeve waved her hand at him and shook her head. "Stay there," she murmured, voice slightly raw.

He waited until she stood over him and waved her hand at his lap and gave him a quizzical look and he nodded and she sat across his lap and put her arm around him and leaned her head down for a long tender kiss.

When it finished, she leant her forehead softly against his and gently brushed her nose across his.

"Love you, muppet," she whispered.

Otis hesitated for moment then said, "I thought you meant you were going to give me a handjob."

Maeve giggled – laughed – and lifted her head, bit her lip and looked into his eyes.

"Do you want one?" she asked gently.

"In a minute," he said, softly smiling then lifted his head for another long tender kiss. When it was over, he asked quietly, "Can I walk you home when you have to go?"

Maeve smiled gently at him. "I thought we were going to watch a movie."

"Well," said Otis, smiling gently at her, eyes glittering, "we don't actually have to watch a movie."


Author's Notes: I'm still uncertain whether I'm moving things along too quickly, but this is where the story is telling me it wants to go.

I have a lot of the next chapter worked out in my head so unless things fall apart (again) it won't be too long before I publish but probably not before Season 2 is released.