Faceless Fixation (Sal Fisher): Bacon King [26]
TW: very slight smut & marijuana use. ALSO 100K ON WATTPAD I LOVE U GUYS SM WTF!!! seriously would not be here without all of you :,) <333
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"Good morning sleepy little princesses!"
I scrunch my closed eyes, wincing at the bright light that pushes past my eyelids.
"Fuck, Ash," I hear Larry groan frustratedly. I open an eye and peek over, noting Emo Buff Daddy himself throwing an arm over his eyes. "It's too damn early!"
The Faces and I camped out in me and Ash's partially empty living room last night-- well, some of The Faces. Todd and Neil ditched us for their own apartment, which is fair. But the other two men decided to hang out.
I'll say that sharing an air mattress with Ash has been quite an experience. I've slept in the same bed with her before, but this kind of bed just causes her to naturally gravitate toward me. Every night lately, I wake up at some point with her legs wrapped around mine in some kind of sailor's knot that I never imagined was possible.
As for Larry and Sal, I have no idea. Sal goes to bed late and he wakes up early. He's a fucking freak of nature.
"Oh, come on, you whiny little bitch," Ash teases her male twin playfully, ripping the blankets off him. "It's nine in the morning! We're going to y/n's to start packing up her stuff at ten. It's wake up time!"
That's true. I glance at the stacks of boxes around the wide expanse of our living room. We don't have furniture yet-- we still need to buy some and wait for the last moving truck to bring the bigger things Ash is taking from Nockfell. But for the most part, we've got everything here, which means my stuff is next.
With a little more grumbled complaints from Larry, the four of us finally leave our new apartment and meet up with Todd and Neil to start heading to my apartment on the other end of town.
An Uber the size of a soccer mom's mini van drops us off in front of my apartment complex and the group of us file out. Todd is busy telling Neil about the diner I worked at literally about two weeks ago-- not that he knows that.
At the mention though, I look over at the diner, feeling a little nostalgic. That is, up until Ophelia walks bounds up to the front door. I blink at my friend, furrowing my brows. What are the chances?
I yell her name, let Ash know where I'm going, then jog over to my friend who looks so pleasantly excited to see me.
"Y/n, holy shit!" She exclaims when I'm close enough, careful not to say my name too loud since Mike undoubtedly told her that The Faces didn't know about me at the time. "Girl, where have you been?"
"Um, back in my hometown, actually," I tell her with a little grin, enveloping her slightly taller figure in a tight hug.
"I heard you got fired," she cringes upon stepping back, looking down at me worriedly. "Is everything okay?"
"Oh, yea!" I answer, retaining my easygoing smile. "I'm streaming with The Faces. It's proven to be good income. We haven't done any videos lately because we're busy moving into a new apartment, but things have been fine otherwise." I stop my ranting and focus in on the apology I've been meaning to give her. "Also, I am so sorry about what led to me getting fired. Please relay that to Mike, too. I thought he was going to have a heart attack in front of The Faces."
"I know," Ophelia cracks up, covering her mouth with a hand. "I was watching from the bar. Poor, Mike. He could not keep it together! The sperm bank thing was hilarious." She sobers up to tell me, "But congratulations on everything else. I'm happy for you!"
I laugh with her, giving her another hug. "Thank you. But seriously, once I'm settled in my new apartment, I'll invite you guys over to hang out. I miss you," I say honestly, holding her close.
"We'd love to!" She gasps excitedly, squeezing me tight before backing away. "Just send me a text and we'll be there."
"Sounds good," I tell her. "It was nice seeing you! Have a good shift."
"You too!" She says, waving. But she pauses thinking about her words, furrowing her brows. "You don't have a shift. Forgot," she giggles to herself as she backs toward the diner, giving me little finger guns. "Love you!"
"Love you, Lia," I call back with a bright smile. She's such a character.
I walk back to The Faces quickly and lead them up to my apartment, unlocking the door and letting everyone in. I haven't been here in a while.
The day after we came back from Nockfell, Ash and I stopped by to grab some clean clothes and necessities, but I haven't been back since.
I haven't seen my dad since I left LA about two weeks ago. I called him to cry about Ash inviting me to live with her and he fangirled with me over the phone, but besides that, we haven't spoken much.
And Travis, that little ass. When I came back earlier this week, he had left a sticky note on my bed that said, 'Since you wouldn't let me send a dick pic to the singer, here.' He proceeded to scratch out three failures before finally settling on the most mediocre drawing of a dick I've ever seen in my life. But he tried, I guess.
The point is, being back home is nice-- even if it technically isn't home anymore.
Ash, ever the goddess, brought a ton of stuff to cook lunch today. I think pork chops, french fries, and snack packs of chocolate pudding cups. Though, I think it was Larry's influence that got us the snack packs.
Ash sets up shop in my kitchen, outraged at the fact that Dad bought normal salt and not Himalayan salt for her 'exquisite five star meal.'
I sit with the rest of my friends in the living room and make the split second decision to start streaming from my phone. Since I'm not doing anything right now, why not? I've got to make this bread.
I turn my phone around the room, earning a middle finger from Sal who's laid back on my couch watching some kind of play through of a Call of Duty Zombie's Easter Egg. Odd stuff. But he seems to enjoy it so I don't mind, especially given the circumstances of him moving here.
He's been really quiet this week.
Todd and Neil wave, and then I flip the screen to show me and Larry. The man has his face squished against mine so he can get into the screen. I have to adjust my mask with my free hand to make sure the squishing doesn't reveal me at all, but I have a good laugh with him anyway.
After about fifteen minutes, Ash finishes her lunch so I show my subscribers her lovely food then end the stream, grabbing a plate of food to eat with everyone.
As soon as I finish my last bite, there's a knock at my door.
I rush over to the door, ripping it open to see a grinning Nate with a plate of brownies in his hand. What a godsend.
I hop up on my toes to give him a tight hug, feeling about as giddy as I can possibly be. I haven't seen him in weeks at this point.
"Hey, Ducks," Nate drawls in that silky, deep voice of his. His free hand wraps around my waist, his head leaning down to rest against my shoulder. His voice is muffled by my hair as he continues speaking, "Looks like you didn't die back home. Shame."
I swat at his arm, taking an opportunity to snatch the brownies away from him. The smile I give him is a bit of a petty one, but it's a smile nonetheless. "You'd never get that damn screwdriver back if I died, just remember that," I remind him, breaking away from his embrace. His warm palm follows my body though, attached to the small of my back.
Nate rolls his dark eyes, tongue in cheek as he contemplates my reasoning. "Fair enough. I guess it's a good thing you made it back." His gaze has fallen on the rest of my friends now though-- the friends who watch us silently. Ash's cheeks are painted a lovely rouge color but she somehow manages to look our way.
Seeing Ash all flustered around a guy of all things is hilarious. She's so confident with women, and now she's fumbling for the right reaction.
"These are The Faces, as you probably know," I tell Nate, a happy sigh falling past my lips. I start naming them from left to right. "Sal, Ash, Larry, Todd, and his boyfriend, Neil."
Nate nods his head in greeting, lips pressed into a tight line-- his version of a smile at the moment. It's the best he can muster up, poor guy. He absolutely abhors meeting new people.
Larry cracks the code immediately, walking over to Nate and offering a hand. "Nice to meet you, dude," he starts with a cheeky smile.
Nate cracks a smile, grabbing onto Larry's hand and shaking it. "You too."
The rest of the males in the group shake his hand, but Ash simply waves from her spot across the living room. She doesn't move in.
Oh, so she's got it bad.
Still holding onto Nate's brownies, I move toward my kitchen to set them down on the cabinet. "Ash was nice enough to make lunch," I tell my friend, gesturing for him to follow. "We've all eaten already, you can have what's left."
Nate trails in behind me, watching everyone in my living room since the only thing that separates us is the island table. I put down the brownies then move around the table to sit down. Everyone else is busy watching Ash's stream from last night. She gave a quick tour of our new apartment, explaining why we won't be active for a few days and whatnot.
Plate in hand and still the sole occupant of my kitchen, Nate leans against the table opposite me and digs into his food. With just one bite of a french fry, his eyes widen a bit and he tilts his head as if he's just switched realities. "Shit's pretty good," he murmurs, focusing on his plate again to finish his bite.
I watch him with a fond smile, fisting my hands beneath my chin.
That is, until a tatted hand surfaces at my side and snatches a fry off the platter beside me. Nate and I both focus in like a cat to a laser, watching the hand move.
I follow that hand to see Sal leaning against the table, his hair hanging over his shoulders and prosthetic face aimed at Nate while his shoulder brushes mine. I search for his eyes to get a read on him-- figure out why he's here-- but with him facing away from me, the attempt is futile.
Worse though, he doesn't say a word. Just watches my friend. And Nate watches him, a contemplative expression beginning to take over his face.
Are they sizing each other up? My antisocial, shy Nate is actually looking Sal Fisher dead in the eyes without cowering?
I fight the urge to sink in on myself as I watch them and ponder what to say. I don't even know why they're looking at each other like this. It's getting tense. So tense that it suddenly feels difficult to breathe within the boys' general vicinity and I just have zero clue of what's going on.
Then, Sal snaps his head to me. I flinch when his vibrant eyes meet mine.
He looks into my eyes before his gaze begins traveling over my face. He glances here and there, taking in each curve and tilt of the mask shielding me from him. His hand lifts toward me, pushing a strand of hair away from my mouth and I blink at him. A torrent of abusive flutters infest my stomach and my body grows warm. I beg myself not to blush, wishing I could stomp down every single thought about Sal being sweet that suddenly floats into my head.
Everything begins falling apart.
"Oh," Nate mutters from in front of us. I turn to address his sound only to find his eyes a little wide and his mouth gaping a bit. "Oh," he emphasizes the word.
In my peripheral, I catch Sal switching his attention to Nate as well.
Nate immediately throws his hands up in surrender. "I think-- I think I get it." His voice is low, wavering. "We're just friends. It's not like that."
It's my turn to widen my eyes. Are they communicating telepathically or something? Is it just a weird, guy thing? Nate deciphering Sal's wordless claim is even freakier than him claiming me in general.
Sal ignores Nate's words at first, simply looks down at the plate full of fries and grabs another. "Good."
And he's gone.
I stare at the spot Sal populated just a moment ago, flabbergasted beyond belief. Just the slightest touch was a warning, a claim, and acknowledgment all in one. I can't quite process it, but thank God Nate did it all for me.
"What the fuck," he hisses lowly, leaning over the table to talk to me more privately. "You have something to tell me?"
I look at Nate again, noting his hyper finger-tapping and dilated pupils. He just got his drama for the week. No, the entire month.
Meanwhile, I'm short-circuiting. I'm still living in the moment when Sal's fingers brushed the corner of my lips and his gaze pierced through every layer of my skin. But the icy cold, overwhelming fear that suddenly slices through me like the dagger on Sal's neck brings me back to the present. Because Sal just told Nate that we're fucking without saying a single word. Now someone knows.
I can trust Nate with anything, I know that, but I'm dreading the conversation that comes with his knowledge of the situation.
Panicking, I leap up from my chair and lean toward Nate, slapping a hand over his mouth. "Not a word," I whisper to him, trying my best to keep my voice as quiet as possible. "We'll--" I pinch my lips together, shake my head. I can't believe this is happening to me. But I ground myself and do my best to remember that things are fine. Everything's okay. For now. "We'll talk about it later."
Nate nods vigorously beneath my hand, so I slowly pull it away-- watching and waiting for him to screw something up. He doesn't, but he starts conjuring up an evil plan. I can tell by the rabid smirk that begins to form on his lips. "You know I'm going to fuck with him, right?" he whispers to me, narrowing his eyes in some kind of psychotic glee.
Sighing, my head droops and I dread the full day ahead of us. "Please don't," I practically beg him.
"Even getting on your knees won't stop me from taking this opportunity," Nate cackles, grabbing his plate and moving around me to the living room. He even has the audacity to plop down beside Sal, giving him a cheeky grin before popping a fry into his mouth. Sal watches him incredulously before turning back to my TV.
The Faces, Nate, Neil, and myself spend the entire day clearing out and packing up my room. many of my belongings were already packed, seeing as I only moved to LA a year ago. We didn't have to go through the trouble of figuring out my drum kit since it's already in a bunch of boxes.
By the time nightfall came and went, we all grouped up in my living room. Surrounded by boxes and eating food that Larry so graciously ordered for us (Raising Canes, to be specific), Ash took the courtesy of trying to turn some music on to aid the relaxing atmosphere after a hard day's work.
My dear best friend is standing in front of my dad's speakers, scrolling through all of my music to pick a song while the rest of us sit in a circle. To my left, Nate, then Neil, Todd, Sal, Larry, Ash.
The balcony curtains are open to let in the beautiful city lights that manage to reflect into our apartment. Green's, blue's, and yellows engage in a passionate dance along the lines and grooves of my living room's ceiling. Such a hypnotizing light show for myself and my friends.
Ash finally settles on a song, grumbling when an ad plays as soon as she comes over to sit down. "I'm trying to play sad Bullet For My Valentine songs and Spotify won't let me!" she exclaims, plopping down on the floor beside me.
"Sorry," I snicker, dipping a fry into some sauce. "I refuse to give them any of my money."
"I'll pay for it," she scoffs, sending me a playful wink to say she's just joking. I simply roll my eyes and eat my fry, enjoying the lax atmosphere.
We fall into silence for a few minutes and I try not to look over to where Sal sits. He's been incredibly tame today-- so much so that I find myself worrying for him a bit.
He's sitting in front of my sofa, his head laid on the seat cushions. A few tendrils of his cerulean hair clash against the dark color of the fabric. And with his head bent the way it is, I can pick out just about every dip and curve along the length of his throat. A constellation to map out with my lips when the time comes.
"What's the craziest thing you've ever done?" Larry suddenly asks, probably put off by the silence or expressing his boredom.
I pull my attention away from Sal, especially when he picks his head up to look over at Larry.
I turn to Larry too, finding him fidgeting with his septum piercing and gazing at nothing. So his question was for anyone, then.
"I've got a story," Nate says from beside me, his tone a little too chipper for my liking.
I've mentioned before that Nate and I go way back. I mean, way back. So far back that he and I have witnessed the typical teenage depression and feeble attempts to be badass. The difference is that Nate and I went a step farther. We didn't just attempt to be badass-- we were badass. Not that I regret it, but it's something that I sickeningly assumed he would bring up at some point tonight to 'fuck' with Sal. And, dammit, Larry just gave him his opening.
In a moment of weakness, I grab onto Nate's wrist and throw him a look. Furrowed brows and wide eyes to portray that I really don't think this is a good idea.
Nate mimics my look though, leveling with me. This will be his one statement for the night and he's done. That's what his look means... but is it worth it?
I spare a glance at Sal and immediately regret it. His gaze is set on me and Nate's connected limbs, making me immediately let go of the man's wrist. Sal's already jealous enough as is-- I think that's more than enough.
But, my mind wanders back to the time Sal had a woman nearly sitting on top of him when we were in Las Vegas. All the times he was a jackass to me. You know, maybe he's better now, but that doesn't mean I can't screw with him a little too, right?
I wet my lips then turn back to Nate and give him a little nod.
I'll probably regret this later.
"Okay, so," Nate starts, scooting in closer with a winning grin on his face, hands in the air to accentuate his story-telling. I start counting my blessings. "Back in high school-- junior year I'd say-- y/n was dating this total asshole, right? I mean, this abusive, two-timing, unfaithful--"
I cut him off with an embarrassed cringe. "Get to the point, Nathaniel."
"Right, right." He rolls his eyes, waving me off. "My bad. So anyway, yea. He fucking sucked. He was also my best friend at the time." Nate tips his head toward everyone, earning lots of 'oohs' to add to his already hugely inflated ego. He continues with a dramatic bravado. "I caught him cheating again, so I let y/n know. Also cut off my friendship with him by that point."
Ash snorts. "As you should. Continue."
Nate's grin morphs into a bit of an evil smirk as he turns to Ash, talking directly to her now that she's shown more interest than everyone else even thought they're still listening intently.
"So y/n had finally had enough, thank God." He shoots me a pointed look that I only raise my eyebrows at. "And she broke up with him. She was mad. I mean, so mad that the next day she stomped up to me in the hallway, and-- get this-- with no hesitation whatsoever, said to me 'Let's fuck.'"
I hide my face in my hands at the same moment lemonade spews out of Larry's nose.
I hear a few muttered curses from Ash before Nate continues with the story.
"And I was game, duh, but I had to ask what the occasion was 'cuz the day before she was holding hands with my ex-best friend. So she explained everything to me, and..."
I peek through my eyes to see Nate who's smiling proudly at me, giving me an opportunity to continue the story. So with a breath, I lower my hands and try to ignore Sal's blazing gaze on me.
"What better way to get revenge than to fuck your ex's best friend?" I say tentatively, shrugging.
"Best part of that was he got a pic of me hitting it from the back." Nate leans away from the group with a content smile stretching across his face.
Ash giggles while Larry and Neil reach over to fist bump him. Sal looks a tad amused by the prospect too, but a completely different emotion overshadows his pretty eyes.
Todd, ever the scientist, has his own inquiries about the situation. "So, did you two ever date? I can't imagine neither of you were confused after something like that."
I shake my head. "We'd set up ground rules," I answer him. "Nate was a lousy lay," I can't help but chuckle when Nate lightly punches my shoulder. "But revenge made it erotic, I suppose." I continue, at least giving my friend a couple props.
"So no other feelings?" Ash asks, clarifying with her hands held out.
"Never," Nate declares. "No feelings other than the coolest fucking friendship in existence."
Aw, that's cute. I poke out my bottom lip and turn to him. "That's so sweet, Nate." He sends me a genuine smile that almost makes me feel bad about my next words. "But your mom's still cooler than you."
Nate groans, shoving a hand into my face. "The both of you probably beat me up together in your dreams. I don't know what the hell she see's in your evil ass."
I laugh heartily, catching Sal standing up in my peripheral. My attention leaves Nate who starts talking about the many times I was present for his chancla chucking mama's outbursts. Sal walks into my hallway-- most likely heading for the bathroom.
And you know what, I have things to confront him about right now. For one, I need to know how things are going to progress after Nate finding out about us and I can't necessarily wait to find out.
So I wait for a minute before getting up with an excuse about needing something in my room. Then, I wait in front of my bedroom door-- right across from the bathroom.
When Sal opens the door and shuts the light off, his head instantly snaps up to meet my neutral expression. He glances toward the sounds of our friends conversing from my living room then looks back to me.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" I hiss quietly, gesturing toward the hallway with a hand.
Sal takes leisurely steps toward me. "I should be asking you that," he challenges, voice low and words clipped. He's certainly not happy.
"I think I have a good reason to ask first," I counter, crossing my arms over my chest. "Nate knows about us, so what do we do?"
Sal doesn't answer right away, not until the toes of his shoes tap against mine. I suck in a breath and hold it when his prosthetic nose bumps my mask's. His nonchalant response is, "We fuck."
I swallow against the monsoon of butterflies that suddenly start flapping around my insides. We must stay focused, brothers.
"That's not--" I try to start, but cut myself off. I don't know what to say.
"That's not what?" Sal asks, stooping a bit lower and twisting the knob of my bedroom door. I stagger backward when the door gives.
My heart begins to race, pounding away at the fortress of ribs in my chest as Sal backs me into my room, softly shutting my door behind him. He follows me, cornering me against a wall. I can't even look at him, not when my face is flaming hot and my body is having these ridiculous reactions. I can't even confront him without freezing up now. His anger, his dominance, the upper hand he always has. Something about it is just so enthralling.
"Answer me," He says, voice a bit louder this time. "That's not what?"
"That's not a good excuse," I say quietly, taking a step to the side to move around him. But my attempt at an escape is met with a hand gently wrapping around my throat.
I swallow against his hold, imagining he can feel the action across each of his fingers. He watches me curiously as if that's exactly what's going through his head.
"It's not an excuse," he repeats my claim, tilting his head a bit to look me in the eye. "Was your story about fucking your friend an excuse, then?"
I open my mouth to say something, but shut it. I shouldn't have let Nate tell the story. It had the desired effect-- Sal is clearly feeling some kind of way about it, but I feel like it definitely wasn't necessary. What was the point?
"Are you going to fuck him again?" Sal asks, dropping every hint of emotion to portray how serious he is about the topic.
"No," I rush to say, tripping over the word. I catch my breath that won't stop running from me. "It was once. I was... I was being honest when I said he was a lousy lay. We were seventeen." I mentally apologize to Nate, knowing he wouldn't care either way because I doubt I was any good at sex either.
I haven't talked with Sal in a while. Not one-on-one. Not since right before we left Nockfell, which was nearly a week ago at this point. Everything else has been the two of us sneaking glances and scooting past with a quick 'Excuse me.' Was I so desperate to get his attention that I had to make him upset to do it? I could have just texted him on Discord or something.
Sal's quiet, letting me think about the consequences of my actions, I'm sure. But the longer he doesn't speak, the more I notice the aggression in his eyes lessens.
His thumb slowly begins to rub along my pulse point, feeling my erratic heart race the same way he did the first time he ever gripped my throat. The skin on his finger is rough, calloused. Guitar playing hands and all. The repercussions of art scratching along such a sensitive part of me.
He taps against a spot on the side of my neck, his gaze snapping to the area he's focused on. "I want to bite you right here," he murmurs quietly.
I guess he's been craving me too.
"So do it," I whisper, drunkenly taking in the way his eyes suddenly meet mine again. I don't need alcohol when Sal's around. He's proven to be more than enough intoxication.
"I can't," he replies lowly, a slight rasp to his voice. "If I do that, I'll fuck you."
I bite down on my bottom lip and think about my poor friends who are waiting for us to return. I also think about how much I've worried for Sal and how badly I've wanted to be near him all week. I can just tell them I dragged him over here to help me look for what I needed, right?
"So do it," I repeat myself, giving him the go ahead.
Sal closes his eyes for a few seconds, probably weighing his options like I just did. It seems that lust wins his internal battle though because within the next second, he leans toward me, buries his prosthetic face into the side of my neck.
I turn my head toward him, shutting my eyes when the scent of his hair envelops me whole. His azure hair, silky against my cheek, moves with him as he trails his nose lightly along the length of my throat.
"I've wanted to taste you all week," he admits quietly, the words a breathy whisper that I can hardly hear due to his prosthetic.
I try my hardest to suppress a shiver, but I can't help but clutch his hair in my hand, tugging at the long strands.
Sal hums, releasing my throat from his grip to hold me to him by the nape of my neck instead. His other hand ghosts up my body, softly trailing up my side and across my breasts all the way over to where he hides against me.
He pulls away from me just a bit, pulling his prosthetic over his head before returning to his place against my neck. I can't help but hold my breath as his scarred lips skim along my throat, leaving the smallest of kisses only when he feels the need.
I pinch my lips together and tug on his hair again when he drags on the slight touching for far too long. He chuckles quietly before finally obliging me, digging his crooked teeth into the spot he so desperately wanted to bite earlier.
I yelp, melting against him just as he pulls me closer to him with a hand on my waist. He slaps the other hand over my mouth to shut me up and I blink at the action, just a little miffed up until he licks the abused skin to soothe it.
He sucks the flesh on my neck into his mouth, leaving marks in a horrendously obvious spot that I know I'll regret later but... I don't regret it now. I can't even find it in me to care about having to hide the dark red marks he'll leave on me.
Sal continues mapping out his artwork along my skin, holding me hostage against his body. His leg finds its way between mine and he lifts his knee, creating friction against my clothed clit. I moan against his hand, making him press harder against my mouth. I grab at the hem of his shirt, squeezing the fabric in my fist as my other hand buries itself further into his hair.
I feel faint, not because of a lack of air, but because of a lack of him.
Sal moves his way up my neck kissing along my jaw before pausing in front of me, his marred nose brushing along mine. His lips are parted and swollen, the tips of his canines peeking past his top lip. And his gaze tethered to the hand that covers my mouth. I watch him, crumbling a bit as he pushes his knee into me again.
He smiles a bit, showing of a hint of that dimple that could bring me to my knees faster than anyone or anything else.
I gently bite down on his finger, causing him to slowly pull his hand away from me. I gasp for breath when his hand finally moves, running my tongue along my bottom lip. Sal's eyes track the movement and I watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows.
His knee drops and he pulls me just a fraction of a centimeter closer to him by the back of my neck.
Something about the way his gaze doesn't leave my lips makes me freeze up.
No. No.
"Twitterpated." The word leaves my lips before I can even realize I thought of it.
Sal's hands are off of me the exact moment I formed the first syllable and he takes a baby step away. I warily watch the way his eyes widen, like he's surprised himself. And he's still close, just a hairsbreadth or two away, but he has room to regain some clarity.
I'm about to apologize when a knock sounds on my door, followed by, "Ducks? Can I come in?"
I gasp, my knees going weak for a moment-- and this time it's not because of Sal.
Unceremoniously and without reason, I shove Sal away from me. He stumbles backward, catching himself with a hand on my bed and an offended grunt.
I reach a hand toward him to offer help that's far too late, my eyes wide as I cringe at the sheer audacity that this situation has slapped me with. But remembering that my dad is literally outside the door, I motion to Sal's prosthetic that's limply hanging from his left hand.
"Put it on!" I whisper harshly.
Sal realizes I'm saving him, saying his thanks through wide eye contact alone as he buckles the prosthetic to his face again.
"Um," I say, loud enough for my dad as I glance around my room. I spot an Amazon box and chuck it at Sal, managing to smack him in the prosthetic he just finished placing onto his face.
He throws his hands up and narrows his eyes at me while I mutter an embarrassed, "Fuck!" To my surprise, Sal chuckles.
I take a breath and sit down in front of my computer, ripping the drawer on my desk open to look like I was rifling in it. "Yea, dad," I call and I watch Sal's body go rigid in my peripheral. "You can come in."
I glance back at Sal who frantically unfolds the flaps on the boxes, practically burying his head into it. I can't help but laugh at the visual.
My dad cracks the door open, peeking in with a hand over his eyes so he doesn't see anything unsightly. "Sorry, just wanted to check in. I'm stopping by to grab my laptop and, apparently, Raising Canes. Then I'm heading to the airport." He gives me a reassuring, gentle smile.
I stand up, ditching my prop excuse and walking over to hug my dad. "No problem, we were just..." I look back at Sal who's finally poked his head out of the box. "Looking for Nate's screw driver," I continue, turning back to my dad.
My father, Bruce, bacon king himself, slackens his expression to tell me he's not buying it and I feel like I'm going to throw up.
I rub a hand over my forehead before gesturing to Sal. "This is Sal," I tell my dad, "Sal, this is my dad."
"Good evening, sir. Nice to meet you," Sal says politely and it takes everything in me not to snap my neck on my way to look at him incredulously. Where the hell did these manners come from?
My dad smiles at Sal, waving to him. "Nice to meet you too, son."
Then he leans toward me, his grey eyes beyond amused as he says, quiet enough so Sal doesn't hear, "You have a hickey the size of Australia on the side of your neck, sweetheart."
Oh my God.
I loose a pained breath, slapping a hand over the side of my neck that Sal had attacked just moments ago.
"Other side, honey," Dad says and I think I'm seriously going to faint while I slap my other hand to the opposite side of my neck-- just in time for him to cackle and continue with, "Just fucking with you. You were right the first time."
I watch my dad with wide eyes, fumbling around my brain for words. All I manage to come up with is, "Is blood really thicker than water, Bruce?"
My dad chuckles lightheartedly, clapping a hand onto my shoulder as an apology and squeezing gently. "I'll leave you be, Ducks. I'm going grab my things-- I'll check back in a bit to say goodbye."
And then he shuts the door again. That bastard, I hate how much I love him.
I turn back to Sal with a troubled sigh, but I feel a bit revitalized when I see the mortified look in his eyes.
"Oh my God," Sal voices my thoughts and I laugh lightly, walking over to take the random Amazon box from him.
"Don't worry, he isn't crazy," I try to reassure Sal as I drop the box into the corner behind my desk. "Can't say the same for when he heard about me and Nate though."
"If you were seventeen, I can just about imagine," Sal murmurs more to himself than to me. "Sorry. About your neck." He says a bit louder this time, but remorse taints his tone. "About all of it."
His tone and words tug at my heartstrings. "Don't worry about it," I tell him, making my voice a little gentler than normal. "I was..." I pause, thinking of how to word my reaction properly. "Scared."
Sal snorts. "Me too. I didn't mean for it to look the way it did, I was just fascinated."
"When are you not?" I quip, closing the drawer to my desk.
"I thought we were being nicer to each other," Sal counters my statement with one that bites. I turn my head over my shoulder, noting the fire in his eyes. He's hungry for a fight.
"Since when?" I turn to him, leaning back against my desk with a minuscule, barely there smile on my lips. "I thought our arrangement was sex, not friends."
Sal tilts his head a bit. "We're not friends?"
I straighten, blinking at him as embarrassment flares within me again. A tremor of flutters makes my heart skip a beat at the same time and my mind goes completely blank.
"I--I mean--" I rush to say, swallowing past the stutter. "Yea, we're friends. I guess. If you want. I don't--"
Sal laughs. He closes his eyes as the lovely sound echoes around my room. Then he stands and saunters to my door, quick to make his exit.
He turns the knob, back to the door as he says his parting words. "You don't stand a single chance, y/n."
No, I really don't.
I sigh, grabbing concealer and foundation to dab onto the pretty mark on my neck, making sure it's covered as much as possible before I follow after Sal.
When I get through the hallway and resurface in my living room, I find my dad standing right outside my friend's little circle on the floor. He turns to me when I walk in, his dad radar making him look directly at my neck. When he finishes his visual examination, he throws me a thumbs up. I roll my eyes, trying to ignore the shame coursing through me.
"Hey, Ducky-Duck," Ash chirps from the floor. "The guys and I are about to head out. Are you coming tonight?"
I smile at my dear friend. "I think I'm going to stay here tonight, hang out with Nate before I move out for good."
Ash nods her understanding, bright smile still lighting up her entire face. "Sounds good! We'll start bringing your things over tomorrow, right?"
I nod back to her, "Yep, I'll be up bright and early."
"Cool," she says, looking over to Nate who watches the exchange. "And you're always welcome at our apartment too. Just so you know." Her smile widens a bit.
Some part of me thinks they're going to end up hooking up somewhere in the future.
I watch the moment Sal realizes he has nothing to worry about. Nate smiles wickedly at Ash, all but confirming that we can expect that to be a thing at some point.
I hug my friends and my dad goodbye, watching as they file out of the apartment. When I return to my living room, Nate's sitting on my couch with a joint between his fingers.
I fight the laugh that bubbles up my throat, especially when he glances up at me with raised eyebrows, asking an unspoken question.
"Let's go to the balcony. Dad would kill me if I burned his couch," I say, grabbing Nate's arm and pulling him up to drag him outside.
We keep the doors open, sitting beneath the clear night sky while passing the joint between the both of us. Smoke materializes in the air through various, white puffs that dissipate as they climb higher and higher.
It's quiet for a bit-- well, as quiet as city nightlife can be. Muted laughter, music, and car honks echo off the wall of my apartment. Makes my nights a little less lonely.
"You gonna tell me what all that was about?" Nate breaks our silence, taking a hit from the joint before moving it toward me.
I take it between my index and thumb and examine it. "We've been..." I pinch my lips together as I ponder the situation I've gotten myself in. I take my own hit before passing it back to Nate. I blow the smoke into the open air before continuing my explanation. "We've been fucking around for... jeez, like, two months now."
"Two months!?" Nate repeats, flabbergasted as he holds the butt of our shared joint between his index and middle fingers. "That long?"
I chew on the inside of my cheek. "Yea, it's been a while. It started online, shockingly."
"Damn." Nate releases an audible breath, dark eyes glancing between my own. "Phone sex?" He quirks an eyebrow.
I grin. "Yea."
He fist pumps the air, giggling to himself. "So, does anyone else know? You seemed a little apprehensive about me saying anything."
I shake my head. "The rest of our friends would tell us to call it off if they found out, which is why we haven't said anything-- or, well, that's what I think they'd do. No one else knows. Just you-- and my fucking dad now." I rub a hand down my face at the reminder, whimpering at the sheer fact that my dad knows that something is going on between Sal and I.
Nate chokes on a cackle, leaning forward in his chair to launch into a coughing fit. I watch, pretending to be unimpressed even as a little smile works onto my face. I guess it's a little funny. What are the odds, right?
"Your dad? That shit's priceless," Nate sighs, catching his breath. "Why not try a relationship?"
"God, no," I shoot the words out immediately. I don't even want to think about it. "He and I have an arrangement. It's just sex. Neither of us have hinted at anything else. And besides, I don't want a relationship." My voice grows quieter toward the end.
Nate's expression is filled with pity. "Y/n, I know your last relationship wasn't great. Hell, we relived that bullshit tonight with the story." He laughs lightly at the reminder of everyone's shocked reactions to him and I hooking up in high school. "But don't let that stop you from pursuing anything new. Sally Face seems to be pretty into you," he continues gently.
I snort, looking away. "It's just basic attraction. I think he has his own shit to work through and I do too."
"You're throwing excuses at the wrong fucking person," Nate says knowingly. "I saw you stealing glances every two minutes."
I turn my head to him, glaring. I throw a quick, discreet punch at his arm and don't feel bad about it when he hisses in pain.
But I have to think about what he said too. Sal and I had a rather frantic run-in with each other tonight-- one that ended just as frantic as it began. I used our safe word for the first and probably the only time ever. Part of me feels guilty about it, but another part remembers that I was justified. Sal has always been understanding. He wasn't mad, backed off as soon as I let him know.
I let the thoughts marinate for a few moments before expressing them to Nate.
"I think he tried to kiss me tonight," I admit quietly, cracking my knuckles as I watch the stars light up the sky. My cheeks grow pink as I voice the idea, afraid that it'll somehow prove to be true.
I catch Nate's head turning toward me in my peripheral. "And how do you feel about that?"
I laugh humorlessly. "Not great considering I used our safe word."
Nate sits up a little straighter, still looking at me. "Oh, damn. That bad?"
I nod, tilting my head down with a mixture of shame and fear. I don't know how to feel about it because a small part of me wants it, but the rest of me is terrified.
Nate takes a deep breath. "If it's what you said, a sex arrangement, then you have nothing to worry about. It's surface level, right? So what's wrong with a kiss? I'm honestly pretty shocked you haven't kissed at this point. Most people do, especially for hookups."
He has a point.
"I know," I tell him honestly. "When things started, the prosthetic was still a barrier. He's... he's started taking it off around me though. So we've been able to do... more."
"If he's taking the prosthetic off, then he trusts you. So why don't you trust him?"
Nate's question hits me a little deeper than intended. I gulp over the words, organizing them in my head and thinking hard about it. I do trust Sal. He hasn't led me astray, he's been kinder lately, he's always done exactly as I asked. If I express my worries about kissing, I don't have a single doubt in my mind that he'd take it seriously and accommodate me as best as possible. I just have to work up the courage to let it happen.
The next issue though...
"He played it off though," I sigh, shifting in my seat to face Nate. "He apologized, said it wasn't what it seemed like and that he was just fascinated. But, the way he was looking at me... I don't think he was telling the truth."
I peek at Nate through my lashes, noting his concerned, serious expression. "I think that your fear of it scared him. Maybe he didn't want you to call things off over that, so he didn't tell you the complete truth."
I tilt my head, considering. I've done the same exact thing with Sal-- fibbed and left out information to ensure that we'd continue our arrangement. It makes sense, as sad as it is.
"Are you sure you don't have any feelings for him, y/n?" Nate asks, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.
I open my mouth to spit out a very loud 'no,' but I stop and think about it. Damn Nathaniel for making me actually think about things tonight.
Everything that made me hate Sal in the beginning is practically nonexistent now. All the anger, the pain, the fights. Sure, we still bicker here and there, but it's for fun now. It's never serious, never deep. It's a lot like Nate and I's friendly banter. Besides that, Sal has been excellent in pretty much every box on the check list.
So, do I like him?
"I mean," I whisper. "I definitely have a crush." I admit, albeit with a bit of force considering it's the last thing I want to admit.
"Well, duh. He's got a crush on you, too. Why else would you guys be fucking?" Nate sighs dramatically, flicking his wrist with a prideful flair I haven't seen from him in a very long time. I think he had fun tonight. The thought makes me smile.
I shrug in response even though the thought of Sal crushing on me does make me feel a bit gooey on the inside.
Wait, gooey?
I groan, slapping my hands over my face and grumbling a muffled, "Fuck."
Nate guffaws, his chair creaking as he sits up quickly. He shoves my arm. "You do like him!"
I shove his arm back, swallowing back tears of surprise, fear, and regret. The audacity of my own emotions. "If I do like him," I start, leveling a glare at Nate which makes him sober up quickly. "It's not enough. Nowhere near. And besides, he's still a shitbag." I don't mean those words as much as I used to.
"That's true," Nate mumbles to himself. "You two have a little feud online, don't you?" His brows furrow and he looks down at the small space between us. "Oh, wait." He snaps his head up to me. "What about that other guy? What was his name..."
"Oh, shit," I whisper, covering my mouth with my hand. I've been so blinded by Sal that I forgot about him. "North."
"Yea! That's it," Nate points at me, eyebrows raising now. "People online are saying you're dating."
I shake my head. "No, I've only met him a handful of times. Spoken even less. I think he's definitely got the hots for me," I snicker at the idea. "It's nothing like what's going on with Sal and I though."
"Doesn't seem like that online," he murmurs, brows raised suggestively. I scoff in retaliation, rolling my eyes at him. But then he narrows his gaze in my direction, scrutinizing me from the minute distance between us.
I watch with bated breath, waiting for whatever's brewing in his head to leave his mouth.
"Why the hell are you still wearing your mask? In fact, why are you wearing a mask at all?"
The reminder washes over me like a bucket of ice water. I suck in a quick breath, hold it as humiliation alters my expression. Nate takes my reaction seriously, sobering up the friendly banter we had going on for a bit.
"You're... going to get a kick out of this one," I whisper, chewing on my lips. At this point, the situations I've stuck myself in are becoming ironically hilarious. Who does this to themselves?
Nate's face drops as he seems to catch the hint that I buried myself in something stupid again. "What did you do."
Statement, not a question.
I suck on my teeth, averting my gaze to avoid seeing the dumbfounded look of pity and awe that'll take over his handsome face the moment I spit it out.
"I met him once. Before I ever talked to him online. He was at the diner-- he hated me. I... I panicked. So beneath the mask, my face is a girl named Lexi to him. She has no relation to myself or Vi." I spit the words out quickly, frantically, so much so that I worry he may not have been able to catch all of it.
I scrunch my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose as my body grows warm. Saying it out loud feels so much worse than thinking it.
Why am I doing this to him? Isn't this just... insanely cruel? To look Sal in the eyes and play with his head. To know he thinks I'm two different people and never say a word about it.
I mean, at least he doesn't think I'm three people anymore. And besides, he took my reveal as y/n well, right? So maybe the same would go for Lexi's reveal.
"You're such a dumb fuck." Nate shakes his head, flabbergasted. "What are you going to do about that?"
Tongue in cheek, I ask myself the same question. What do I do? Hope for the best, that he just somehow never finds out or grows curious? Wait until he gets tired of me?
I blink around the frustration and fear that starts to rip at my insides. "I really don't know."
Nate hums, pursing his lips. "Well," he says, voice much lower now. "Seems like you have a lot to think about, huh?"
"When I'm not high? Yea. Definitely." I laugh lightly as Nate sends me a reassuring, friendly smile before turning to watch the sky. I mimic him, gazing at the cloudless night.
Every once in a while, I find that the color of some of the stars matches Sal's eyes perfectly. I wonder if he'd think the same.
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A/N::::::::::::::: happy 100k everyone!! to ALL my readers, i want to start by expressing my immense gratitude. I just know that 14 year old ryver has tears streaming down her face knowing that we got here. never in my life did i think this would actually happen to me, but even more than that, i never expected to make such wonderful friends in all of you along the way. 100,000 views on a piece of work i created feels absolutely impossible, but i would not be here without all of you. through this process, you've all been so kind, helpful, loving, and wonderful. the right words to explain how much i love you do not exist. this feeling is incomparable to any other and not a single concept on this earth could possibly capture it's essence completely. THANK YOU! from the bottom of my little heart, thank you so much. i love you all with every fucking bit of me. we're all little fish floating down a lone river in appalachia-- we're all together in some universe or another and i wouldn't have it any other way <3
all week, i've been thinking hard about this chapter and how much i've wanted to give you guys a good one to celebrate! when it started i was like :/ don't like itttt. BUT i had a couple drinks (DO NOT RECOMMEND-- DON'T DRINK ALCOHOL FOOLS) and managed to pump out about 5,000 more words in one night! 5,000 that were completely unplanned, but ended up working out really well. i fell IN LOVE with nate and y/n's little interaction at the end :3
as of right now, it's 1:49am on wednesday, june 12th. we sit at 99.5k and i've been tweaking all day to come home and finish this chapter for you guys. i'm counting down the minutes, counting down the views left to go and listening to twenty one pilots. i feel like i'm living the life i've always wanted and it's all thanks to you. thank you for everything, my loves. i love you all with my entire heart and soul! have a wonderful morning, day, evening, night! until next time <3
p.s. you won't have to wait longer cuz GUESS WHO'S FINISHING A SAL LORE CHAPTER TO CELEBRATE TOO WOOOOOOOO!!!!
p.s.s. My little brother made a Sally Face mask (he's super duper talented) and let me borrow it for pics with my 100k cake. It's currently on Instagram (which is ryverbind)
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