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not-really-a-writer · 3 years ago

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Please Stay: Part 4

Summary: You reconnect with Gage and your day together takes several unexpected twists

Clone Trooper OC "Gage" x fem!reader

Warnings: sexual harassment, smut, fingering, creampie, cum eating, oral f receiving, oral m receiving, unprotected PIV. non canon space corporation, maybe some technobabble. everything i make up is real for the purposes of this story ;) just roll with it !! ~8k word count!!

<<Part 3

>>Part 5

Yes

Before thinking it through, you had told Gage “yes” you would like to meet up. In a flurry of messages back and forth, you agreed to see each other again. You both came up with a when and where for your rendezvous, before you could have a second thought.

Wait a minute…

The days are less frigid now than they were months ago when you last saw him. It is now warm enough for you to slip a long sleeved knit dress over your head and call it good. It fits you well, and looks timeless. The buttery smooth tan fabric is just the perfect weight for the weather, and the dress hugged and tugged in all the right places along your body. It is a tad short, but you had to hem slightly it to get rid of the chemical stain that wouldn’t wash out. Working at a laundromat did have its occasional perks: you at least got to go through the customer discards before they went to the trash. This dress was far nicer quality than one you would allow yourself to buy. You complete your look with a pair of comfortable booties, and give yourself a minute to check your reflection before you leave your apartment.

In that minute, you lock eyes with yourself through the mirror and say aloud. "No matter what happens, do not fall for this man just because you want to feel wanted." You pause for a moment, admiring the courage in your own voice. "You deserve better. And he does too."

---

It is utterly gorgeous outside. Amid the background bustle of the city and the comforting glow of the morning sun, you enjoy your walk up the streets toward the little cafe Gage suggested as your meeting place.

Something strikes you as odd all of the sudden. Normally people are kind of nervous on dates. You think this is a date, anyway. Is it? Either way, You're not nervous. Not at all. You are just a woman out to meet a particular guy again. Someone you kind of had a connection with. Possibly. It probably helps that you decided to have no high expectations from this meeting. You know what boiled over during the last time you met could have very well been a one-time deal. You know that you could walk away from today's date with nothing more than a very good friend. Something to be treasured, indeed. You could alternatively find out that he just wanted to meet and hook up again, no complications. Or you could find that whatever sparked between you during your previous encounter may fizzle out after today. Anything was possible, you decided. And you weren't going to allow yourself to take the outcome personally as a reflection of your self worth.

Judging by the address, you know you're getting close to the cafe. You squint and look forward toward a shape of a sign that looks right. With a few steps more, you adjust your gaze. There he is.

He hasn't noticed you yet, but you take notice of him seated outside the cafe at a table for two, the seat across from him empty. He is dressed in civilian garb: a brown belted pair of pants, matching boots, and a fitted cream colored shirt. Without his armor, he blends into the cityscape looking like a regular citizen. Just a regular guy at a regular Coruscanti cafe on any given morning. A really fucking hot one, who's there waiting for you.

Oh - there it is, the nervousness. Or excitement?

Gage notices you approaching and he rises to greet you, facing you with a brilliant smile. That smile! Just like you imagined. His hair is still the same, same small scar above his eye. Same tattoo behind his ear. However, his tired, sorrowful eyes look brighter now, and he is sporting a little stubble today on his day off. You also notice that he looks... happy.

You step closer, as does he, until you are within arms reach of each other. "Hey ___," he breathes into your hair as you wrap each other up in a hug. "Hey Ga-a-ge," your words end up in a squeak as he tightens his arms around your midsection, squeezing you and lifting you slightly off the ground. He holds you there for a second before he releases you gently, allowing you to breathe and plant your booties flat on the ground. Gage lets out a huff and looks at you almost in disbelief. "Sorry, I'm just really glad you came. You know, that you wanted to meet up again. Even after how things ended last time.. " he stammers out, looking away with that last sentence.

"It's ok," you say earnestly as your eyes find his again. "I hadn't thought much recently about last time, to be honest, " you add. Gage's eyes perceptibly widen in response to your statement. Oops, you think. You didn't mean to sound like an asshole, but it was mostly true. Aside from the first few weeks after your encounter, you had been busy with other things. "I've been busy.. with things," you add hastily.

Gage scans your face, smile returning to his. Then, he nods slowly in acknowledgement. "Ah, well. I'd like to hear about it. Want to join me for a cup of caf?" he proposes while motioning toward where he was previously seated. "That's precisely why I'm here," you jest lightly, taking your seat across from him at the table for two.

Like hot caf pouring from the fresh pot your waiter holds, the conversation between the two of you flows just as easily. You tell him about all your library data pad books and job hunting. He tells you some things that have been going on in greater Coruscant and news about the war. You decide against telling him about the conservator program. It just seemed like a lot to explain and, well, you didn't want to yap away about yourself the whole time. You had only been through one round of testing anyway, so what would you even say? You weren't investing a lot of energy and hope into actually getting into the program. You knew better than that. Hey Gage, wanna know about this really great opportunity I'll never have? Nah, he doesn't care about all that, you think.

"So you're telling me, you're like, some kind of 'droid whisperer'?" he teases, chin resting on his closed hands, staring across at you. "Well, yes? I don't know," you laugh, gesturing wildly with your hands. "Just whatever I can get my hands on, most of the time I figure it out. Studying schematics does help. You start to see the same parts in different machines, all doing the same types of functions in different places." You drop your arms down to rest on the table. "It's hard to explain. But once you see it, you can't unsee it. It's amazing how it all works."

"Hmph," Gage makes a sound, somehow still listening intently to your babbling. "I think it's great. I hope you find the apprenticeship you're looking for. It sounds like you put in a lot of work to learn what you have. You deserve a chance to explore this talent of yours." This comment makes you smile. "Thank you," you say, beaming.

A comfortable silence passes as Gage looks down and takes a sip of his caf. "You know, I wish that we didn't meet the way that we did, " he says, reaching across the table to brush his fingers along your arm toward your wrist. "I think I like this better," he says, blinking at you softly with his chestnut hued eyes.

His touch. The way he looks at you. Guys don't look at someone like that when they just want to be friends. "It wasn't all bad, that night," you say looking down, taking his hand into yours. It's warm. Like the sun on your back. Like your cup of caf on the table. Like the friendliness in his voice, the heat from his body when he squeezed you earlier. When you look back up, Gage says nothing. His perfect lips are parted just a bit, like he was about to say something, but is now waiting for you to say more.

Beep beep! A piercing series of beeps from Gage's comm device interrupts the moment. He may be off today, but he is still a soldier - always on duty.

"Hold on," he says, pulling his hand from yours to mute the notifications but also to glance at the message. It holds his attention and you see his formerly soft expression change into something hard. "Did something happen?" you ask.

"Yeah. It's uh, nothing bad really, " Gage says with concern, looking back up at you. "It's just - I've been following some of the crimes in the area. Lots of petty stuff, but some violent crimes as well." Gage shakes his head and stares out past you into the street. "I feel like it's all related. Just the pattern of things, it does seem random, but the timing..." He holds up a finger. "That part is suspicious to me." He takes another sip of his caf, and looks back at you. "The boys recovered some high quality surveillance video from a pharmacy that got burglarized last night. They were asking if I wanted to come check it out at the station."

"Well, do you want to go check it out?" you ask him gently. As much as you're having a good time with him, you know this is important to him. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been messaged about it on his day off.

"I do," Gage replies, checking your reaction. "I'll go right now if you want to come with me. Should't take long."

You stand up and put a few credits down on the table to cover your bill. "Caf's on me today, Gage. It's nice to hear that someone is trying to do something about the crime around here, " you say with a smirk.

---

The station is not terribly far away. In the splendid weather outside, it makes for a nice walk and good conversation. You learn from Gage that it is pretty typical to see citizens in the station filing complaints and conducting normal business, so there is no problem bringing you there. He tells you that none of the guardsmen will mind if you are there with him, but there is someone who might: the station's officer in charge. From the way he talks about her, you can tell that he doesn't respect her.

When you arrive at the station, you enter and are greeted by some of the guardsmen on duty at the front desk area. Gage briefly introduces you and leads you around to what appears to be a briefing room in the back. Along the wall, there are a few desks with computer terminals, and you see one of Gage's brothers standing there with a small silver disk in hand. His form is physically identical to Gage with a few differences. He has no visible scars or tattoos. His hair is longer, and is a soft shade of silvery grey. Gage tips his head up toward his brother in acknowledgement.

"Hey brother," the clone says in a gruff voice, "Here's the video. The suspect looks a lot like the one who hit up the cleaners in sector 44."

"Thanks, Kipp. I'll take a look, " Gage says. He reaches out to take the disk from him. "Oh - Kipp, this is ___," Gage adds while stepping aside so Kipp has a clear view of you. "And ___, this is Kipp."

"Ah, Heard about you. Nice to meet you," Kipp says politely, extending his hand in greeting. You feel a little embarrassed. Uh-oh. Heard about me?

"So - what's going on here?" You hear a shrill voice fill the room as you attempt to exchange pleasantries with Kipp. You turn to face the source of the voice. Though Gage did not give any physical description, you know that this must be the station officer.

She is wearing her Republic officer's uniform and insignia indicating that she is a Lieutenant, which is what gave away her identity. But something about the way she presents her self makes you uneasy. Perhaps it is the way she poses her question as if you all are doing something wrong. Something about the barely perceptible changes in Gage and Kipp's demeanor when she spoke throws you on alert. It's a strange juxtaposition. Judging from the tension in the room, you would have thought a monster just walked in. But as you stand there watching her next move, you notice that she is just a woman. A shockingly pretty woman, at least, according to beauty standards on Coruscant. She is a little taller than average with unique crystalline blue eyes framed by a set of stylish glasses, her smooth muted red hair tied neatly into a bun.

She approaches, heels clicking against the hard floor of the station, and wedges herself between the three of you. She looks at Gage with her hands on her hips. "Grant, today is your off day. What are you doing here?" She says in a saccharine sweet voice.

"It's Gage, ma'am. And I'm just here to review some surveillance footage...with a witness," he says matter of factly, holding up the disk in his hand, and nodding toward you.

"Oh, oopsie!" the station officer shouts as she is overcome with giggles. She fails to acknowledge you and instead seems to be occupied with some kind of inner joke that only she finds funny. She clasps a hand over her mouth and reaches out to grab the meat of Gage's shoulder with her other hand as she nearly doubles over from laughter. You see him wince under her touch and look nervously over at Kipp, but he allows her to use him to stabilize herself.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Kipp force out a weak laugh and move away subtly. "Whatever. You should really turn that brain of yours off and leave the analysis to me," she says once she has calmed down. She keeps her hand on Gage's shoulder. He stares calmly ahead with a stony expression, not willing to give her a reaction. Her lips slowly stretch into a devilish smile while she stares intently into his handsome face. But there's nothing friendly about her smile.

And just when you thought the ire in the room couldn't get any worse, it does.

"Damn, trooper. This is a good look for you," she says toward Gage in that same syrupy tone from before. But there's nothing sweet about it. She looks him over head to toe, licking her lips. "I've been trying to get another one of you out of your armor for a while now so I can see all this again," she adds, moving her hand from his shoulder down his arm. Gage winces again and shuffles to the side, pulling away from her hand as he faces her to say something. "Please don't tou -"

"Oh come on, you shukking dummy! Take a freakin joke," she howls, punching his arm forcefully before he can fully move out of her reach. Neither Kipp nor Gage seem to be in a joking mood.

You realize at this point that your mouth had dropped open and you have momentarily stopped breathing. This seems brazenly inappropriate for an officer to behave this way. Especially toward her subordinates. Especially when her attention seems so unwanted. You have to say something.

"Ma'am, it's not - " Kipp starts before he is cut off. "What?.. You jealous?" the station officer teases sadistically. It's almost like she sees this type of interaction as a game. She is their superior officer, they are just clones. She thinks it right to play with them however she wants, and what can they do about it? What would happen if they so much as raised a hand to her in self defense? She saunters toward Kipp. "Want me to touch you too, trooper?" she asks as she reaches up toward his face. He dodges her advance, stepping to the side toward Gage. "Ppffff!," she puffs out bitterly toward the two clones, shoving Kipp hard enough that he actually bumps into Gage. "Wouldn't know what to do with a pretty girl if one fell in your lap," she spits out.

This is just too much. "Listen, lady..." you growl. The station officer spins around on her heel to face you. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she interrupts with a giggle. "I'm being so rude." She looks you up and down before continuing. "I'm the station officer here." She tells you her name plainly as if you hadn't stood there witnessing the ridiculousness that just occurred.

"Are you a witness to one of the crimes these clones are talking about?" she asks kindly before you can say anything else. "Yes, I am," you say carefully. But you can't just leave it at that. "I also happen to have witnessed a Republic officer harass and assault a couple of citizens," you say with a chilling coolness, staring into her hollow blue eyes.

She seems almost surprised. Surprised that someone would dare call her out for her inappropriate behavior. You gather from what you've seen today that she is not used to people standing up to her. Her painted lips curl as she snorts at you and bares her teeth. "A couple of citizens... really? Only citizens I see here are you and me," she says, voice dripping with contempt. Rude, but she is technically correct. Damn it. She stands before you, daring you to challenge her.

"Oh silly me," you say with faux embarrassment, maintaining your composure and acerbic tone. "What I meant was that I witnessed a Republic officer harassing her subordinates. Something considered an abuse of power. Not a crime per se but something like... conduct unbecoming an officer." You had read about something like that in a book once. It was something for which military officers and public officials could lose their appointed status. You think, anyway. You look down briefly at your nails for added drama to really sell your threat. "Do you know where a citizen such as myself can report that?"

You can tell by the way she backs off that you got her good. Better than you would if you had smacked her across her face, like you really wanted to do. You know she has a sworn duty to uphold the laws, and behave in a morally sound manner as a Republic officer. Whether the internal structures worked to actually keep that system in place was a mystery to you, but judging by her sudden change in demeanor, you think there might have been some truth in your memory.

"I can help you with that," she forces out of a tight smile. She walks over to one of the computer stations, retrieves a small card and hands it to you. "Ok, well then. Kipp, Gage. You boys let her watch the surveillance recording, " says over her shoulder. "Take down her statement and details for me. I'll review it when I get back from my lunch break." She takes one step closer to you, and leans in. "Look at me. No one's gonna believe that anything I've done with these big, strapping troopers is unwanted. So go ahead. Waste your time," she whispers at you before abruptly leaving the room.

As soon as she is out of sight, both Kipp and Gage visibly relax. You can tell that this is not the first, but one of many such interactions that have happened at this station and it makes your heart ache. Gage brings a hand up to his face to rub his eyes. "Can't stand her," he says through gritted teeth. You're enraged, but unable to speak further at this point. "She's right, unfortunately," Kipp says toward you. "A few of us have filed grievances," he continues, "but I don't think anyone is taking it seriously."

You tuck the card the station officer gave you into your purse for safekeeping. You notice that it says "Coruscant Oversight Office: Inspector General" on it. She actually gave you the number and address for the office responsible for handling complaints on military officers and public officials. She gave it to you and dared you to make a complaint. Arrogant bitch.

"Will they take my complaint seriously?" you manage to ask. "I dunno," Kipp replies, running his hand through his silver hair.

"Wow," you say bitterly. You knew Republic officers lived privileged lives. The high ranking ones attended banquets and dinners with senators and they all generally mingled with the upper society on Coruscant. It was supposed to be an honorable occupation. While this station officer filled a position sometimes handled by clones, there was a double standard. She still enjoyed status as a citizen and Republic officer. And the Republic pays officers a good salary, unlike the clones. This station officer was young enough to have a long, promising career serving the Republic, and could very well one day end up among the high ranking officers, schmoozing and boozing at all those fine events.

"She doesn't deserve the position that she has. She doesn't deserve any of it if she treats you like that," you say, fuming. "She doesn't deserve it," Kipp echoes. "She was only appointed here when - " he stops himself before he can say more with a glance over at Gage who is staring at the floor. Kipp changes the subject suddenly. "She thinks she can get away with anything because she's.." his voice trails off. "Pretty?" you interject. Both Gage and Kipp huff and roll their eyes. "Yeah something like that," Gage says.

Kipp puts his helmet on and excuses himself to patrol his route, leaving you and Gage alone in the briefing room to review the surveillance video. You both pull up a chair to one of the computer stations to observe. The video is only a few minutes long. It shows a clear view of a cloaked suspect breaking into a pharmacy window, smashing the register and loading its contents into a backpack. The suspect gets up to move around the room for a minute, taking the time to quickly swipe some of the more valuable medicines and chemicals in the supply area. Then, they leave. Gage takes a few notes on his data pad as you review the footage a second time, then a third.

Gage rolls his chair to an adjacent computer station on your left and begins plotting things on a map. You watch him work. You watch the little muscles in his forearm twitch beneath his bronze skin as he scribbles things down with a stylus. You watch little wrinkles form in his brow as he concentrates on the screen and his data pad. He's completely absorbed in thought.

Gage looks up from his work and gives you a soft smile, like he did back at the cafe earlier. "Sorry, I was in the zone there. I just need to finish up a few notes and then I'll be done. We'll be done here," he says reassuringly. "Sorry this date has gotten weird," he adds, returning his attention to his monitor.

"It's ok. Not your fault," you say genuinely, looking around the briefing room. So it is a date, you think to yourself. You were really getting to know each other, and that was the intention of your meetup today. For better or worse, you were getting a glimpse into his life as a Coruscant Guardsman.

You turn your attention to your computer station. The video loops again for a fourth time on your screen, and you notice that while it's sharp, the images lack color. Isn't this supposed to be high quality video? "What makes this high quality video?" you ask curiously, breaking the silence.

Gage stops his work and turns to you. "Oh, that's just a term we use to mean there is audio. High quality surveillance media has audio and video," he explains. "No color though?" you ask, but you feel bad for interrupting his work. "Sorry, I don't mean to keep interrupting you!" you apologize.

"It's fine. Really," he chuckles, turning away from his screen. "And to answer your question, No. No color. With the low light levels, you can capture more detail in monochrome," he explains this concept patiently to you, answering all your follow up questions, before returning his attention to his computer terminal.

That chuckle, his little laugh. Those dimples under the stubble of his ruggedly handsome unshaven face. He was too adorable, and you can't stop yourself from smiling like a tweenager in the presence of her first crush. You had no idea how cameras worked, but now you learned something new. What a strange date this is turning out to be. "I didn't know that," you say, biting back your smile. Hoping he wouldn't catch you sitting there grinning like a fool.

You notice that the computer station is similar to the one that you used during your entrance test for the Ceres Corporation conservator job. Your grab the headset and put it on. High quality surveillance media has audio. You mentally replay Gage's words to yourself, listening in your mind to that wonderful accent of his.

The video loops again, for the fifth time now, and you close your eyes to listen through it with sound. You visualize the events in your head while listening to the recording. You hear the crash of the window glass, the grunts of the suspect as they work to break open the register. The clinking of credits and rustling of backpack fabric as they stuff their pack full. You hear the rattling of medicine bottles as they are grabbed from the shelves. Zzzziiipp, goes the zipper but then the next sound sends a chill down your spine.

The wicked cackling noise that comes through your headset causes your body to stiffen, and you inhale sharply as your eyes fly open wide. A strangled noise escapes your gaping mouth while you reach for the headset to rip it from your head. Your hands fall to grip at the armrests of your chair to steady yourself. You had heard that laugh before.

Suddenly, your chair spins to the side, and Gage is there leaning over you, taking your hands into his before kneeling at your level. He calls your name. "What's wrong?" he asks worriedly, rubbing soothing circles into your the backs of your hands with his thumbs. You close your eyes and steady yourself. "The suspect - I've heard that laugh before," you say shakily. You open your eyes to see Gage's concerned expression. "Yeah?... can you tell me where you heard it before?" he asks gently, still holding your hands. You squeeze back to ground yourself. You nod and manage to say, "Yeah, The night I was attacked."

Gage hadn't heard your attacker's laughing because he was still at a distance when it happened. In the darkness of the shroud they had wrapped you in, it was hard to feel or see. But you could hear the attacker's laugh loud and clear. Gage takes the headset and watches the video through again, keeping one hand soothingly wrapped around yours while you remain turned to the side, facing away from the computer.

You hear him remove the headset and close the video. "Interesting..." he says barely above a whisper. He steps around to place his other hand on your shoulder. "Are you ok?" he asks warily.

"Yeah, I am now." You do feel much calmer now. "Do you- do you think it is the same person?" you ask.

"That would explain a lot, actually, " he says, moving away from you to take a seat at the computer station he was working on earlier.

"You see this?" he pulls the map from earlier back on screen. You lean and squint to get a closer look. "C'mere," he says softly while pulling your chair over next to him. He covers your hand with his and continues, "See these dots? These are all crimes in the sector that night of the video." The map is dotted thoroughly with little red spots indicating a location of a crime reported that night. You turn your palm upward and wrap your fingers around his hand. It's warm, like earlier at the cafe.

"All over the place," you remark. "Seems pretty random, right?"

"Ah, but that's just it. It's not random. This is a pattern," Gage says staring at the screen, deep in thought. You scan the screen too, trying to see what he sees to no avail. "How?" you ask.

"Well, random means that crimes would happen all over the place, sometimes. But also sometimes clustered here or there. Typically, that's what you see with random activity. Everywhere has a fairly equal chance of having activity so you would expect to see variety over time," he explains methodically. "But...these events are consistently spread out. That is not random," he says looking back at you.

He continues, "Another thing these events have in common is the timing. All these things all occurred within an hour of each other."

You give this some thought. "But don't crimes typically happen like that? Like, you get a concentration of activity happening at particular hours more than others?" you ask.

"Yes, but not this perfectly. There is a third big thing these events have in common. It's the combination of events." Gage changes to another map view where some of the dots change color to blue, while the others remain red. "There is always at least one large distracting event like a sudden fire, or some large act of vandalism followed by a rash of robberies, burglaries, and theft. I believe they're all related and working as a group. They time and plan these events so they can take advantage of the chaos, so they have less chance of getting caught," he says enthusiastically.

You think back to the night of your attack. There was a loud alarm in the distance just before you spilled your grocery cart all over the sidewalk. A fire alarm. "Ohhh, Gage. I think you're on to something," you say, mirroring his enthusiasm. He had really put a lot of thought into this theory. And it did make a lot of sense. You break your gaze away from the screen to find him looking at you already. "I hope so. Hope we can get 'em, " he says with a grin.

You both stare at each other for a moment. There was so much more to this man than you had originally thought. He was more than just a handsome face and a fit soldier's body. He was intelligent. Sensitive. Empathetic. Passionate. And dedicated to make some sense out of the chaos plaguing the forgotten citizens in the lower levels of Coruscant.

You feel yourself being drawn to him like you were the night you met. But this time it feels different. "You know, when I said earlier that I hadn't thought much about the night we met..," you say, squeezing his hand slightly. "What I meant was, that I did think about it. For a while actually." You pause to gather your thoughts. "I thought about you. And I'm glad you didn't call me right away. I wasn't in a good headspace when we met." You pause before telling him the rest, "I wanted you so badly, but for all the wrong reasons," you confess. shaking your head. It felt right to get that out.

He listens to your confession in silence, expression full of understanding. "I hope that makes sense," you say with a soft huff. Gage sighs and offers you a small smile. "It does," he says sincerely, "because I was actually going through a similar thing."

You remember the tired sadness in his face when you met him, and how he seemed so different now. You turn toward him, your knees bumping into each other.

"I wasn't in a good headspace either," he says, leaning forward in his chair just a bit. "but I wanted you, too."

"And now?" you ask quietly, leaning forward to tentatively place your free hand on his knee, sliding lightly over the fabric of his pants, just barely feeling the shape of his solid thigh underneath. "I still do. I think I want you more now," he says, meeting your gaze. His dark eyes dance with interest in you and a tantalizing hint of lust. This is nothing like the night you met. You move your hand to trace the seam on the outside of his pants, back toward his knee. You want him more this time, too. But it's not enough to just tell him. You want to show him. "Then have me," you whisper.

Gage's sweet demeanor changes in response to your provocative words. His hand tightens around yours as he pulls you up and over to the door of an adjoining room. He punches in a code and opens the heavy door before dragging you inside. You let out a soft giggle. "What's this room for?" you ask, blinking in the darkness, pulling away from the man gripping your hand. Gage flips a switch on the wall, illuminating the room, and shuts the door before closing the distance between you. Strong hands grip your waist, hot lips press against your neck, and before you know it, you are pushed up against what feels like metal bars. "Weapons locker," Gage mumbles, stubble scratching into the sensitive skin of your neck. "Ah," you reply, throwing your head back against the surface. Behind you is a caged in area where weapons are stored. It is a moveable wall of equally spaced, one inch thick metal bars protecting an equipment stash further secured behind an energy field.

You wrap your arms around his back and start to tug his shirt up over his head. At the same time, Gage moves up your neck to press his lips to yours. For a moment, he tenderly kisses your mouth with sweet little nips to your upper lip, then your lower lip. You break the kiss to remove his shirt, then his mouth is back on yours, more urgently this time. You allow his shirt to fall to the ground as he presses you harder into the bars behind you. You open your lips and feel him breach your mouth with his tongue, while his hands skim across your clothed body. Your hands roam across his naked torso, all over his back, up to his chest, his skin hot beneath your fingers. It's not enough just to feel him like this, though. You want more.

The way he kisses you is not desperate, but it is hungry and passionate and full of heat. You are eager to return the kiss with equal ferver because where you were once desperate for any kiss from a stranger, you were now yearning for more from this man that you were beginning to know and like. As he continues to explore your mouth with his, he bunches the fabric of your dress upward over your hips. The fitted fabric stays that way while he massages your ass with both hands. Heat rushes to your core in anticipation for what's to come. Your hands instinctively search out what your body wants, and you make quick work of opening the front of his pants to reveal his already rock hard cock straining against his underwear.

"Do you have a condom?" you manage to pant out, untangling your tongue from his. He brings his hands up to your waist, and rests his forehead against yours. "No. I wasn't planning on this," he says. "Me neither," you say hesitantly. "It's ok. We don't have to if you're not comfortable," he says, starting to smooth your dress back down in its proper place.

"Wait!" you gasp, pulling him closer by the fabric of his open pants. His touch has set you on fire and you are ready for him, feeling the dampness growing in your panties with every passing moment. And it is more than his touch that you want. You want him.

"I want to. I have an implant," you tell him. "And I've been checked recently. I'm clean." And this is the truth.

"Well, we all get tested pretty regularly. I'm all clear too," he says. And this is also the truth.

"Ok. We're good then," you say breathlessly as you place your mouth back on his. Your hands go back into his underwear, and you find what you're looking for. You pull out his velvety smooth shaft and begin to spread the droplets of precum leaking from the swollen head along his length. His audible groan vibrates though his chest and you can feel it in your lips. He feels heavy in your hands, and you can't wait to feel him inside you again. Gage's hands leave your ass to pull your underwear down and you step out of them, kicking them off to the side somewhere. He grabs your kicked out leg and pulls it up over his hip while he teases your entrance with two of his fingers. You are already wet for him, so enters you easily, sliding in against the pressure of your tight walls. "Are you sure you want this?" he asks, dragging his fingers lazily in and out of you. "Yeah, I want you," you whine in response, continuing to work his thick cock with your hands.

Gage removes his fingers from inside you and smears your wetness across your pussy, circling around your clit. He watches your reactions as he continues to rub into you with just the right pressure until he finds the spot that causes your head to fall back and your eyes to roll into the back of your head. "Hmm," Gage chuckles, taking advantage of your exposed neck to plant a few open mouthed kisses as he continues to play with your clit.

The feeling is intense. Heat builds between your legs but you need more. "Gage, fuck me," you beg desperately, using what energy you have to focus and communicate what you want.

Gage places his hands under your thighs and pushes you up against the cage behind you with powerful arms. You reach in front of you to hold onto his firm, muscular shoulders, and wrap your legs around his waist. He lines himself up and slowly pushes in, watching your reactions as you take him inch by inch. "Mmmm," you whimper quietly, keeping your mouth shut, trying not to be too loud. "S'okay," he coos, continuing to work his way inside you. "Good girrl," he purrs.

He's not even fully inside you yet and you're already clenching around him. "oohhhh," he breathes out once he pushes in the final inch. He checks your reaction one more time as he readjusts his grip on you. You let him know you're ready by nodding and tightening your hold on his shoulders. And you hold on for dear life.

The pace and force with which he fucks you is rough and dizzying from the start, but it is absolutely divine. He snaps his hips up into yours, driving his cock deep into the warm, wet depths of your cunt. Though you are being pressed between the hard surfaces of his body and the metal cage behind you, you feel as if you are floating. His body skillfully winding that pleasurable feeling inside you tighter and tighter with each thrust. You bring both arms up to hold onto the bars behind you. "Haaahhh, " you moan loudly, the sound originating from within your chest. You begin to breathe deeply and rhythmically as you concentrate on the feeling of him penetrating so deep inside you, feeding the fire threatening to burst from within.

"I'm not. gonna. last. much. longer," Gage gasps against your neck between thrusts. "Gonna cum too. You feel sooo goooood," you sing out because it does really feel that good, and you want to say so. You're so close. You can hear the sounds of your wetness growing as you approach your peak. Gage grips your thighs tighter. Your deep breaths turn into pitiful whines as you arch your back. When this orgasm hits, it's going to be devastating. You throw your head back hard against the bars, not feeling the pain of impact. You close your eyes, ready to let go and fall over the edge...

Then, Gage's rhythm stutters suddenly, and he slows his thrusts. A warm feeling blooms inside you as you realize he is pumping you full of his cum. He lets out a frustrated growl. The sight and sound and feeling of you was just too much, and he wasn't able to hold it back. You feel your orgasm fading, and while it's frustrating, you still find yourself smiling.

It's perfectly normal for this to happen. When he stills, you want him to know it's ok. "It's ok. It happens." you say, bringing your hand up to cradle his face. He looks at you apologetically while letting you slide down off the cage behind you to stand on your feet. "Sorry," he says softly. His face is flushed and shimmering with sweat and it's beautiful. You only get to observe his face for a mere moment because as soon as you seem steady, he drops to his knees and pushes your legs apart, hands pushing your hips backward until you are pressed up against the metal bars again. You feel his cum starting to slide out of you, but his fingers fill you up before it can drip out. Then, his face disappears between your legs. You feel his mouth on your clit, massaging it with his tongue, making out with your pussy like it was your mouth.

"Ohh!" you exlaim. It all happened so fast, it caught you off guard. "Is this ok?" he mumbles against your folds, looking up at you innocently. "Fuck yes," you pant, smile creeping onto your face. "Was not expecting this," you add, bringing your hand up to rest on his head. His mouth finds your clit again, and you can hear the wet noises coming from where his fingers are working in and out of you. He wiggles his fingers until he finds that sensitive spot inside your inner wall. "Oh! Right therrre," you whine. You feel your orgasm approaching once again, faster than before. You go back to focusing on your breathing, gripping his hair tightly with one hand while the other files back up to grab at the bars behind you. That familiar tightness begins to wind again, you feel yourself clenching around his fingers, so you keep breathing and breathing into the feeling until it finally hits you, nearly making your legs give out. Your mouth falls open as you cry out and your vision goes blank.

As if waking up from a dream, you find yourself somehow standing on shaky legs, your quivering pussy dripping down your thighs as Gage slowly kisses up your body. His lips find your face again and you take them willingly. He tastes like you now, and you kiss him sweetly, wrapping your arms around his waist to keep yourself steady. You can feel he is hard again, his cock pushing against your stomach. "Can I fuck you again?" he murmurs against your lips. "Yeah," you mewl, not recognizing your own voice. He could ask you for anything right now and you'd let him have it all.

He pulls you down to the floor, lays you on your back, then crawls on top of you to run his cock through the wetness soaking your wrecked pussy. A mixture of his cum, saliva, and your arousal coat his length and he easily pushes in again for the second time today.

You wrap your legs around him and he fucks you like this, slowly while resting on his forearms, looking over your face. He reaches up to the top of your dress, and pulls it down off your shoulders until your breasts are bare. Continuing his thrusts, he begins to palm at them and twist your nipples softly, causing you to squirm under his touch. "Sensitive?" he asks. You can only nod in response. He bends down to mouth at your breasts gently, using his warm tongue to soothe your nipples where he was pinching them earlier.

Changing the angle, he lifts your legs up over his shoulders and fucks you harder. He doesn't speed up, but he presses into you deeper, with more purposeful strokes. Your see your own thighs and breasts jiggle with each thrust and the sight of this drives you wild. You could feel the power of his thrusts, but now you could also see the effects on your body. He was completely ruining you and you love it. You feel yourself tightening around him, pleasure building within you once again. "Mmm I can feel you gettin close" he slurs out between thrusts. "I d-don't know i-if I can.." you whine. The feeling between your legs is overwhelming and you're on the verge of overstimulation, but it feels too good to stop now. "S'okay gorgeous," he drawls out. "You're doing s-so good... So good t-taking me like this." He begins to speed up his thrusts, and you feel your pleasure building even faster. "Good girrl...Letting me fuck you again.... Cum on my cock," he urges and this is what ends up allowing the tension that has built up in your cunt to finally release. You writhe and let out a series of little squeals as each wave of pleasure flows through your body. Gage slows his thrusts back down to help you ride out your orgasm, though watching and feeling you cum has nearly pushed him over the edge again. When the throbbing in your pussy eases and you have regained yours senses, you hear him grunt out "I-I'm gon-na cum," above you. "Cum in my mouth!" you suddenly blurt out. He already came in your pussy once today, and now you wanted to taste him. You sit up quickly on your elbows and drop your legs out to the side. He pulls out of you and you lean forward at the same time to capture his cock in your mouth. You hear him softly moan your name above you as you stroke him a few times with your mouth. Then, he's spurting his thick, tangy load down your throat while you suck him dry.

You pull away from his now softening cock and look up at him with a dopey smile. He grips your chin and pulls you up to him. "Was not expecting that," he says with a smirk, thumb running across your lower lip. He leans in for a quick kiss on your lips before standing and pulling you with him. Gage pulls his shirt over his head while you get your panties back on and straighten out your dress. He turns around and smooths a stray section of hair out of your face. "Beautiful, " he says, admiring your look. Your hair is mostly tousled, and your cheeks are still slightly flushed from the orgasm he just gave you. "You're beautiful," you say in your post-sex stupor. You turn and step toward the door but begin to tip over, somehow losing your balance. "Woooo," you say in a high pitched voice, holding out your arms and stumbling a bit. Gage catches you around the waist to hold you until you are steady. "You alright?" he asks, amused.

"I'm better than alright," you say, wiggling your eyebrows playfully. "Ok then," Gage chuckles, "I guess this tour of the weapons locker has been adequate?" he asks with a wink, reaching for the door. "Yes," you say. Gage opens the door while you continue speaking "Great tour. It was awe- " The sound of chatter fills the air as the weapons locker door opens directly into the once empty, now fully occupied briefing room. "Awesome, " you say weakly.

Who's out there? How long have they been there? Did they hear anything?

--------

a little PSA here regarding my depiction of std status talk. I wanted to include it to sort of 'normalize' this kind of thing, even tho this is just pure fantasy. I know this is all fun fiction but irl please PLEASE have 'the talk' prior to fluid bonding with someone. We're all adults here, but I have encountered Grown Ass Men who act like they're allergic to this topic so i know this is an 18+ problem. My bottom line: If someone balks at you inquiring on their status, drop 'em. If they get mad at you for asking? Run. We all deserve a respectful king/queen who will answer truthfully when asked and NOT pressure us to do it without a condom unless we want to <3

#clone trooper x reader #clone trooper oc x reader

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thiswasinevitableid · 5 years ago

Note

'this blind date i’m on is awful and you’re sitting there with your friend watching the whole thing go down and i overhear you two talking about how you’re live tweeting this disaster because twitter is eating up the drama' for sternclay if you're still taking prompts? :)

“Yeah, it’s gonna be the uber of secutiry systems, y’know?”

“Uh huh.” Barclay drains the rest of his cider. He’s been here thirty minutes and this guy hasn’t stopped talking about himself for more than two of them.

“So, what do you do?”

“I’m a personal chef, mostly for athletes-”

“I always wondered why someone would pay for shit like that.”

“Well, sometimes-”

“I mean, it’s just mixing shit together and following a recipe.”

“There’s more-”

“Like, I could probably do your job way easier than you could do mine.”

Barclay is trying hard not to growl, “I think you’d find it trickier than you imagine.”

“Ooh, gettin touchy there big guy? Gonna show me who’s boss?”

“If this is your idea of flirting-”

“Hold that thought, I gotta go take a leak.”

This time Barclay does growl, dropping his head into his hands with frustration.

There’s snickering behind him.

“Holy shit dude, you’re going viral.”

Barclay sneaks a peek over his shoulder, finds a youngish woman with a fiery pompadour and a jean vest looking at the phone that a very put-together (and very cute) man next to her.

“What can I say,” he shrugs, “people love a trainwreck. I do feel bad for him though. He seems like a nice guy.”

Are they talking about…

“Hey, what are bad dates for if not livetweeting? Anyhoo, I gotta bounce, Dani’s getting off earlier.”

The man waves goodbye, then looks forward. Meaning he sees Barclay glaring at him.

“Oh dear.”

“You’re livetweeting my pain?”

“Yes, as a cautionary tale about dating tech bros.”

“His profile was very vague!” Barclay hisses.

The man gives him a sympathetic look, then holds out his hand, “give me your phone.”

His voice is so calm, in a way that brooks no argument and sends a shiver down Barclay spine as he complies. The man swipes a few times, types something into his own phone.

“Shitty dude at ten o’clock.” He mutters as he hands the phone back, standing up as soon as he does.

Barclay doesn’t want him to leave, although he does enjoy watching him go.

“Bathrooms pretty clean, might be nice to get railed in by you.” His date smirks at him.

“What makes you think that’d be my thing?”

“Big guy like you, what else are you gonna want?”

Barclay opens his mouth to say something he’ll probably regret when his phone rings. “J.Stern” flashes on the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hello, this is your roommate. I am locked out. Also I’m puking. Please help.”

“Shit, be right there.” He clicks the phone off, “Sorry, roommate’s in a jam, I gotta go.”

Then he walks as fast as he can out of the bar. It’s only when he hits the end of the block that he realizes he’s not sure where he’s going.

“Oh good, it worked.” The well-dressed man, Stern, slips his phone into his pocket, hopping up from the bench where he was sitting. Barclay finds them nearly eye to eye, which is rare given his height.

“Thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome. It was the least I could do after sending your bad date viral. We’ve all been there.” His gaze goes hazy for a moment and then he shudders.

“I just hadn’t matched with anyone in awhile, thought I may as well give it a shot.”

His stomach rumbles.

“I see he didn’t even have the decency to buy you dinner.”

“We were gonna go after. I even had a list of good places picked out. “ He mutters.

“Oh yes, you said you’re a chef. Pity, I imagine you know all the best spots around here.”

“Yeah, there’s the blind pig,and a place that has the best Chinese dumplings-”

“Dumplings?” Stern looks at him intently, “what kind?”

“Literally every kind you can think of. The place has a menu the size of a magazine.”

“Huh, I’ve been searching all over for a place that serves them.”

“The place is a hole in the wall, most people just walk past it. I could show you, if you want.”

Stern smiles at him, and Barclays heart skips a beat.

“That sounds nice. Let me buy you dinner as an apology for not saving you from your bad date sooner?”

“Deal. I’m Barclay, by the way.” He holds out his hand and Stern takes it.

“Joseph. Pleased to meet you.”

---------------------------------------------------------------

Barclay likes taking his friends out to eat, as much as likes cooking for them. He likes introducing them to new things they end up loving, finding places that make their favorites just right. His friends are funny and good company.

But Stern?

Stern is his dream dining companion.

He knows his favorite dishes, orders a few, but then peppers Barclay with questions about what else he should try, orders more than a few plates on Barclays recommendation. He tells a good story, isn’t afraid of moments of natural silence, and wants to know all about Barclays work, everything from what it’s like to cook in kitchens that aren’t his to what his favorite recipes are. He knows his food too, sheepishly admits to bingeing every flavor of cooking show.

He also makes the odd noise of enjoyment while eating that is borderline obscene. When he unbuttons his top button and rolls up his sleeves (it’s very warm in the building), Barclay stares a good thirty seconds longer than is polite.

“Mmm, Barclay, the spice in this is balanced so well. Here, have a bite.”

Barclay isn’t in the habit of letting people feed him by hand. But he opens his mouth immediately when Stern holds out his fork.

“Good.” Stern smiles and spike of hot need slides under his skin at his tone. Stern seems to realize that he came across sultry, clears his throat, “it’s good, right?” It comes out more casual this time.

“So good.”

By the time they’ve finished, Barclay can’t bear the thought of ending the evening yet. Hell, he didn’t put a tie on for nothing, he wants a night on the town.

“Anywhere else you wanna go?” He asks.

Stern finishes dabbing his mouth with his napkin, “Well, now that you mention it…”

------------------------------------

“I found the plot twist a bit forced, didn’t you?” Stern is looking the paperback of a mystery he and Barclay have both read. Barclay nods.

“Yeah, he didn’t quite stick the finish. I liked the ones he wrote under the pen name.”

“You mean the baking themed ones?”

“They’re cozy! Good rainy day reading.” He smiles at Stern, who grins. His hair is not as slicked back as it was at the bar. Barclay wants to get his hands in it, mess it up, ideally while Stern kisses him against the nearest wall.

Unfortunately, the bookstore is closing in fifteen minutes.

As they step back out into the street, he notices he’s digested enough that he could plausibly ask Stern for ice cream.

When he turns, the question evaporates on his lips.

Stern is clearly thinking about “dessert” too, giving Barclay a slow, appreciative once-over that he doesn’t bother to hide.

“Would you like to continue this evening somewhere more private?” He reaches out, toying with the end of Barclays tie.

“God yes.”

Stern tugs on the tie, closing the small space between them and kissing Barclay hungrily.

“I’ll call us a ride.” He murmurs against Barclays mouth, making the larger man whine when he steps away.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. It’s a message alert from the dating app, courtesy of the guy he ditched

U up?

He chuckles, slips his phone back into his pocket.

Oh yes, he’s up alright. And if the look Joseph is giving him right now is any indication, he’s going to stay that way.

#agent stern/barclay #sternclay #prompt fill

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death-selfie · 4 years ago

Text

Put Your Head On My Shoulder

Chapter 2: Maybe You And I Will Fall In Love

When I woke up, my first thought was of Gerard, the hippie I met last night. Immediately, I felt regret. I know I shouldn't be thinking of someone else when I'm perfectly happy in my current relationship, especially a man. I can't help myself though. What I felt in that one conversation was almost everything I was missing in my daily interactions with other people. He seemed genuinely interested, and no one has been that interested in me since Jamia and Bennie.

Gerard was the main thing running around in my mind while I did my usual morning routine. The thing was though was that it didn't bother me one bit. I was perfectly happy thinking of him all morning. The smallest things that reminded me of him, like my pomade, made me smile. There was something about Gerard that put me at ease. I knew that I needed to see him today, even if it's only for a minute or less. I even dressed nicer than I usually do. The main reason is because of the dance Jamia and I are going to later this evening. The other reason is because of Gerard. I want to look nice for him, and I'm hoping that he will dress as nicely as I imagined last night. My mind can only wonder.

I headed down the street in the same direction as Gerard went last night. Anxiously, I looked down both sides of the street as if he could pop out at any moment now. I don't know why I was so anxious. Gerard could just see me as a friend after all, and I would be the fool rushing into this. I walked into town, but still no sign of Gerard. Where would a New Jersey hippie go at 10 am?

That's when I came upon a roadside flower shop. Gerard was slightly leaning over a section of pansies with a judgemental look on his face. At this moment, I could've sworn my heart went off on a highspeed chase then. I smiled softly to myself and with a skip in my step, I approached him. "The fact that I find the likes of you by a flower shop," I smirked.

Gerard looked up now. I could tell he was a little surprised by the greeting. Now he smiled at me. "What can I say? Flowers are beautiful specimens!" He chirped, plucking a flower out to inspect it. "Like this one! Pretty little petals, hm?" He held it out to me now. The pansy he picked had dark violet petals with a bold black center. I smiled. "Pretty."

Gerard smiled softly at my response, which set my heart on another chase. Now he tucked the pansy back with the rest. "What flowers would work for uh...what're those things called? Corsages?" He sniffed as he swept his gaze over the variety of flower breeds presented in front of him.

"Why do you need a corsage?" I asked, genuinely curious. This provoked Gerard to look at me with a serious look in his hazel eyes.

"Isn't there a dance tonight?"

Now I stared at Gerard. How did he know about the dance? Did I say something about it last night? "There is--"

"Aha! Do you think you could take me to the dance? I dropped out of high school before I could attend those silly things," Gerard interrupted. He bit his lip and tucked some of his long hair behind his ears. "Y'see, I never had anyone to go with, but now that I've...met you, I thought you'd take me."

I looked at Gerard blankly. Oh, he's not going to like the news I'm going to tell him. "I'm already going with someone, Gerard." His face told me everything he was feeling. That was enough to make me feel terrible. "But if you'd like to catch up after the dance, we can."

Gerard shook his head. "It's fine," He muttered. "You can spend the night with them."

"It's not 'fine,'" I protested. I took a step closer to him and spoke in a quieter tone before anyone could catch on to our conversation. "I would like to take you to the dance, but I don't think they'd let you in. The school, I mean."

Gerard waved me off. "Yeah, yeah, I know that. As I said, it's fine." He let out a sigh now and took a step back. "Look, I'm gonna go. See ya around, Frankie."

I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs and stop Gerard from walking further away from me, but he was already a half-block away. My heart sunk. There is nothing else I could do. I wasn't sure if I'd see him again. Was this the end? This can't be...

At seven sharp, I was at Jamia's front door as I had promised her. Behind my back was a bouquet of flowers that I picked out at the flower shop earlier in the day. I also bought a corsage, or two. I was still hopeful to see Gerard tonight, and I hope that I could make it up to him by giving him the corsage he wanted. I waited for about a half minute until the door finally opened to reveal Jamia. The sight of her in the dress she wore nearly took my breath away. The dress hugged her slim torso and at the waistline, it flared out slightly. It was made of the prettiest pastel pinks. The skirt of the dress donned a lacey pattern. The dress wasn't the only thing making Jamia stunning, it was also her makeup. It was as if the best artist in the world did her makeup. It appeared natural and minimal, and she was wearing a lipstick shade that complimented her dress.

"Well, say something!" Jamia giggled softly. She performed a little twirl for me, and I smiled. "You look amazing, Jamia," I whispered. I held a hand out to her now, and once she took my hand I revealed the flowers I held behind my back. Jamia let out a slight gasp. "Oh, Frankie, they're stunning!" She placed a delicate kiss on my cheek before gently taking the flowers. She handled them with such great care I almost believed she thought that she'd break them.

The rest of the night went as I imagined. Jamia and I met up with our cliques and our friends alike at the dance, and we both had the night of our lives dancing on the open floor in the school gymnasium. The live band that played for the dance was absolutely amazing. They played all of the greatest and popular songs that matched the mood of the evening. Everything from the dance to the food made our special night spectacular, but all night I couldn't stop thinking of Gerard. I was constantly wondering if he was alright, and where I might find him tonight...

As the night grew older, the students slowly began to leave the dance. My group also lowered in numbers. Soon, it was about me and Jamia's time to leave, so I hooked arms with her and lead her outside to the parking lot. However, when we neared my car, I could see someone off in the grass dancing alone. From where I was, I could barely hear music from the gymnasium so I don't know what that person was dancing to.

During the whole drive to Jamia's home, my mind slowly made the connection that the person swaying alone to no music was most likely Gerard. Was he waiting for me? Did he still want to see me tonight? These questions encouraged my heart to beat fast from excitement. I know it isn't wise to hope so much but I couldn't help myself because just the thought that Gerard could be into me in some way excited me. So shortly after I had kissed Jamia goodnight and watched her walk inside, I sped back to the school as fast as I could. It seems as if luck was on my side tonight because the lonely person was still there. Smiling, I exited my vehicle and approached the dancing figure.

As I guessed, it was Gerard. Before I approached him, he was caught up in his own little world. His own beautiful world. His expression was one of pure carelessness and freedom. He had the softest smile and his eyes were closed in a pleasant way. His movements were intricate and calculated, yet delicate and slow. He wasn't wearing any pants this time. Instead, it was a simple patched skirt. Who knows where he found that old thing. The odd thing about it, though, was that he pulled the raggedy look off well.

"Gerard?"

My words shattered the undisturbed silence. Gerard whirled around to face me, his face full of shock.

"Frank!" He exclaimed, his eyes wide in horror. "You-- You're-- I--"

I could tell he was embarrassed to be caught. I gave him a calm smile. "Relax, you're fine," I said. "You looked beautiful."

Gerard gaped at me for a few seconds before blushing madly. He smiled bashfully now and dipped his head. I took this opportunity to step closer and take his hand. "What do you wanna do tonight? Take me anywhere. I'm all yours." His hazel eyes traveled up to meet mine, and I swear I've never seen them so bright. I went to lean in, but...Gerard seemed to have other ideas. He gripped onto my hand tighter and suddenly began to drag me towards the direction of the football field. Somehow the lights still stayed on, even this late at night. Maybe there were other couples here for obvious reasons.

Gerard let my hand go now and sprinted to the middle of the field. He stretched his arms out to the dark sky and let out a deep breath. "Although I've never been a big sports guy, I do miss the games, the atmosphere," He said. He seemed to be speaking more to himself. After a moment, he turned to face me. "Sucks we don't have any music."

I nodded. Too bad I wasn't much of a musician myself. I took a few steps closer to Gerard. "You really wanna dance, huh?" Well, where could we dance? The school parking lot? No, we'd be caught and that wouldn't be pleasant.

Gerard sighed. "Hm, well, maybe we can just...imagine the music." Now he was the one to take my hand. I observed how he thought through how we would dance. His lips were slightly puckered and his eyes glanced over me about ten times. When he had analyzed everything, he finally took my other hand and closed the remaining space between us. His eyes met mine. "Do you know that song by Paul Anka? It was kinda popular back in my high school days."

"Tch, you make that sound like ages ago, Gerard," I smiled. "Of course I know that song. Put Your Head On My Shoulder, right?" To that, Gerard smiled rather coyly. He didn't say anything in response though. He simply began to hum the familiar tune and soon we were slowly swaying along to it. The two of us were completely absorbed into the dancing, we didn't care to look for anyone watching. To us, we were the only ones on Earth. We were the last remaining people dancing slowly on a football field under bright lights.

As the end of the song neared, we had stopped dancing. I wanted to attempt a kiss again, but I wasn't sure how Gerard would feel about that, and honestly, I wasn't sure how I would feel about it either. Any such homosexual acts are considered taboos... So I ignored the urge for now.

"C'mon, let's go for a stroll," Gerard said suddenly. He let my hands go and began to walk down the football field. He had a cute little skip in his skip, and my heart did not fail to flutter at his actions.

#my chemical romance #gerard way #frank iero #frerard #frerard au #frerard fluff #platonic frerard #au fanfiction #fanfiction #mcr fanfiction #platonic love #platonic

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kashmiresims · 8 years ago

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Nick felt like a hobo.

He surveyed the living room; contained in two boxes were his worldly possessions minus his guitar and on the floor was his sleeping bag, duffel bag, and a pile of dirty clothes.

He owed Cypress and Orion big time for letting him stay at their place while he figured out what he was going to do to for a new residence. He needed money for that. He could try his hand working in a cafeteria, or maybe as a bartender. He was a pretty good bartender.

He just didn’t feel like begging for more funds from his family and breaking the news to his father that he had quit the fraternity. He could only imagine how that conversation would go-- like a car wreck.

He thought of his options as he did some stretches in front of the TV. There was a soccer match on that he was watching but it was currently playing a commercial. He almost was touching his toes when he heard a knock on the front door. He figured Orion or Cypress would come down and answer but then a few minutes passed and he heard more knocking. So he went to investigate.

It was some dude dressed in a casual vest and tie. He had shaggy brown hair and eyebrows so thick that Nick’s first thought at seeing them was that if he ever got cold, he could use those eyebrows to knit himself a pair of mittens. That is if he could actually knit.

They regarded each other with puzzlement.

"Hello," Nick said to break the silence.

"Hi, I'm here to see Orion. Who are you?" the guy asked, giving Nick a long, considering look up and down.

"I'm Nick Hart," Nick stuck out his hand in greeting. Nick was always down for making new friends.

The guy took it and shook hesitantly, "Cain Nova."

That name rang a bell, but Nick couldn't remember where he heard it and in what context.

"Come on in. Orion is upstairs," Nick pointed up the stairwell. He noticed he hadn't picked up his plate from dinner so walked over to grab it and wash it. He already had made a mess of the living room. He was being a bad guest leaving his dirty dishes laying around.

"Nick Hart, you're the guitar player then?" Cain asked from behind him. It startled Nick slightly because he had assumed that Mr. Eyebrows had gone up to see Orion since that was the reason he was there.

"Yeah, I play guitar. How did you know?"

"They mention you from time to time," Cain smirked, and gestured above them to indicate Orion and Cypress, "So what are you doing here tonight?"

"I'm being a hobo," Nick laughed and began to explain his predicament.

Cypress should have been doing homework. Key word: should.

Instead, he was lounging on his bed and listening to music. He had downloaded a handful of songs and was deciding which ones he should play the next time he was in the SSU radio station. Every Tuesday and Thursday, Cypress hosted a campus radio show that played new and local music. He loved it. Coursework was another matter, he often felt like it was the most tedious and useless thing.

Why was he even in college? He'd had three years to figure out what he wanted to do with his life and still hadn't picked a major to the annoyance of his advisor and his parents.

His grades weren't the best either. If he dropped out, though, what kind of message would that send to his family? His parents were highly respected in the science and medical communities, their fieldwork and accompanying journals had gained them academic notoriety. Their disappointment in him would be crushing if he told them how he really felt. His younger brother, Cedar, was at the age he could start filling out college applications but if Cypress decided that college wasn't worth it, his actions could jeopardize Cedar's future. Cedar had always been one to trust Cypress's judgment, after all, Cypress had virtually raised his little brother because his parents were too involved with their research.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Orion, who had flung open his bedroom door without warning and entered without pants on.

Cypress wasn't even phased, it was an all too common occurrence.

"Dude, can I borrow one of your shirts? All my good ones are dirty," he pointed in the general direction of Cypress's wardrobe and clean laundry he had yet to fold.

"How about you do your laundry so you can wear your own clothes," Cypress dismissed the request and shut his eyes to continue listening to music.

"I don't have time to! I'm going out with Cain tonight..."

Cypress's eyes snapped opened, he ripped off his headphones, and sat up with a frown, "He doesn't care what you wear!"

"But I don't want to smell funky!" Orion sunk to the floor with an exaggerated pout and grabbed Cypress's leg beseechingly, "Please? I promise not to get your clothes dirty."

Cypress closed his eyes in frustration. He hated the thought of Orion making out with Cain while wearing any of his clothes but Orion was his best friend and he looked kind of pathetic laying on the floor and begging like that.

Cypress stood with a curt nod and Orion's smile returned; he pulled himself up and opened the doors to Cypress's wardrobe while Cypress leaned against it and pointed out which shirts he could borrow.

"So is this a date? Is he finally your boyfriend, or what?" Cypress asked, trying to not let disgust seep into his tone.

"Cain doesn't do exclusive relationships..." Orion's smile faltered a bit as he picked out a teal shirt from the wardrobe. Orion may not have been aware of the full extent of Cypress's dislike toward Cain, but had least picked up on the fact that Cypress wasn’t very receptive to discussing anything pertaining to the guy; so he found it odd that Cypress had even asked, "...but yeah, I'd consider it a date."

This. This was why that cocky bastard was the literal worst. Cypress's anger boiled within at remembering the fact. Cain had been leading Orion on for at least two years and never committed to anything. He showed up when it was convenient and then could go for weeks without calling, and his behavior only heightened Orion’s anxiety.

The first time it happened, sophomore year, Cypress found his best friend in bed, huddled into a ball and hyperventilating. Knowing that Orion was best comforted with physical contact, Cypress pulled him into a hug and held him while trying to distract him from his fears of inadequacy that were causing such a violent panic attack.

"Think of your favorite song," Cypress had suggested. Orion was shaking in his arms, and his breathing was shallow and erratic, "Envision the notes in front of you and how they sound."

Orion shakily took a breath and then began to hum. It was the melody for his favorite Pink Floyd song and Cypress joined in. Eventually, his breaths established a steady pace and normalized.

So that had unfortunately become a routine for them in those awful instances in which Cain ghosted for too long. Cypress hated Cain for it. It would have been better if Cain never returned or contacted Orion again. Yet Cain always ended up coming back. Orion always forgave him.

Orion changed into Cypress's shirt and thanked him, then went back to his room to find a decent pair of pants. A moment later, Cypress heard him leave his room to go downstairs. Cypress followed; he needed a smoke anyway.

When they entered the main room, they found that Cain was already there and having a lively discussion with Nick.

"Seriously, though, none of the Twikkii Tidals can score if their life depended on it," Nick bemoaned. Cain nodded in agreement. It was soccer talk, probably related to the current program they could hear coming from the television.

Orion walked up and slipped his hand into Cain's, "Are you ready to go?"

Cypress crossed his arms, and only Nick saw his leveled expression of pure hate aimed right at Mr. Eyebrows. Now he remembered where he'd heard about Cain. Cypress had complained about the guy when they had gone to the bookstore pick up new course materials for last semester.

"Where are we going?" Cain asked.

"Um..." Orion was caught off-guard. He didn't know he was supposed to pick a place.

Loathing in Cypress intensified.

An idea struck Nick on how he could start repaying his friends' generosity.

"I know a place," Nick said with a smile. He put his arm around Orion’s shoulders and motioned Cain to follow. They walked outside.

"There's this great jazz bar in downtown Scandalica City and I can get you in for free," Nick winked at Cain. He had no interest in Cain, but felt that the guy would be more susceptible to his suggestion if he charmed him a bit. If there was one thing Nick was a pro at it was charming others.

"You're..uh..going with us?" Orion seemed reluctant.

Cain looked thoughtful at Nick's offer, "Sure, that sounds awesome, sign me up."

Nick threw his other arm around Cain's shoulder and was solidly separating the two lovers as they walked to down the street to the nearest bus stop.

Cypress’s lips broke into a small grin — Orion probably wouldn't be pleased that his one-on-one time with Cain was being intruded on, but was too polite to tell Nick off. Cypress was glad that Nick had intervened. He was glad that there was a high probability that Nick's self-appointed third-wheeling would make the night very unromantic and more of a bro-fest. Did that make Cypress a bad friend?

He made his way to the back porch and pulled out a cigarette. It was a bad habit but he smoked as a means for stress relief—something he'd never really dealt with as a teenager. It came in waves as a young adult. At least tonight he'd be less stressed about leaving Orion in the company of his shady, flaky, non-boyfriend.

He lit the tip and looked at the night sky, then took a drag.

That was the main reason that Cypress hadn't up and left Sim State yet—Orion would be a mess without him.

#kashmiresims #ts2 #sims 2 #nov arc #my shots #the sims 2

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