#it’s DEFINITELY not a girl kissin you buddy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

himbowelsh · 7 years ago

Note

For Baberoe: 5 times Babe kissed someone on a dare and one time he liked it.

AN: damn this got real wild real quick (ft babe/spina, babe/julian, babe/grant/lieb, OF COURSE babe/roe, and catch me sneak my own rarepair in there (tab/shifty)

It’s not so much the idea that Babe should start a kissing marathon as it is the idea that he can’t.

“Not possible,” Bill declares, sounding so sure of himself that Babe wants to punch him on principal. He’s got his arms crossed and is shaking his head. Whenever Bill declares something “not possible”, it probably means nothing good, and whenever he looks that confident, he deserves to get hit.

“What the hell do you mean?” Babe demands, sitting up straight. Bill is unimpressed.

“When was the last time you kissed someone? Like, actually kissed them?” He pauses, allowing Babe a few seconds of contemplation. Babe opens his mouth, closes it again, and that’s all Bill needs to see. “I’ll tell you exactly when. Doris, your junior year of high school.”

Babe remembers Doris well. She had large boobs, brown hair, and lips as hungry as a starving lion. Babe was sure he was supposed to like it, because every time his friends looked at him with her something green and jealous sparked in their eyes. He endured Doris for a whole month before declaring “not again, never again”.

Doris broke up with him on his birthday. It was the best gift she could have given him.

He remembers Doris well (hell, he’s still traumatized from Doris); he just wishes Bill didn’t remember her too.

Spina munches loudly on a carrot stick as he leans forward, eyes alight with interest. Babe hopes he chokes. “Ohh, that the girl who triggered Babe’s Great Gay Awakening?”

Bill nods sagely. “The very one.”

“Legendary.”

Fran looks a little disturbed, like she can’t comprehend anyone being that bad. (And, in truth, she wasn’t that bad, she was just aggressive. Babe would rather not think about it.) Julian, who witnessed the Doris drama and subsequent aftermath firsthand, only looks a little gleeful as he shoves a handful of chips into his mouth.

“I hate you all,” Babe announces. “And I could totally get anyone to kiss me if I wanted to. I could kiss everyone in this room.”

Bill points a thumb at himself, and Babe is forced to quickly revise his earlier statement. “‘Cept you. My lips would fall off if they went anywhere near you.”

This is much better. Bill nods as if this makes perfect sense, while Frannie sends him a thumbs up. Spina just snorts. “Can’t be worse than Darlin’ Doris.”

Maybe it’s this that sets him off. Maybe it’s just that any mention of Doris and Babe’s final, explosive endeavor into heterosexuality is a Button, and Spina just slammed his fist down on the Button so hard that it almost broke. Maybe he’s just mad.

Whatever it is, Babe storms up to Spina, straddles his lap, and plants his lips on his friend’s mouth.

There’s no time for anyone else, let alone poor Spina, to process what’s happening. He goes shock-still against Babe’s kiss, paralyzed. It’s like making out with a brick wall, but Babe is damn determined. He cups the back of Spina’s neck and deepens his kiss. A soft whine sounds in the back of Spina’s throat, and Babe can taste the remnants of carrots.

(He doesn’t even like carrots. Why couldn’t Spina have been eating chocolate?)

It takes a few seconds, but Babe feels the exact moment Spina gives himself up to the kiss. He sags against Babe’s chest, pressing back with his lips, and Babe can feel his friend’s heart rate begin to quicken against his chest.

This, plus the increasing need for air, is his cue to pull away. He draws back to find Spina breathless, panting, totally shell-shocked.

Without a word he slides off of Spina’s lap and turns back to the rest of the room. His friends are all gaping at him in various degrees of shock and confusion. Bill’s jaw has dropped; Julian looks ready to faint; Fran is staring like he’s just sprouted a brand new head.

“It’s been years since you kissed someone?” Spina demands, eyes wide.

Babe’s mouth quirks sideways, an easy confidence taking over his posture. “What can I say?” he shrugs. “I’m out of practice.”

With that, he turns on his heel and strides out of the room. “Challenge accepted, by the way!” he calls over his shoulder. “We’ll see how many people I can kiss!”

He pretends he doesn’t hear the smack of a palm against someone’s forehead, and Spina’s muttered “Jesus” as he makes his way out of the house.

He knows he’s not going to have such an easy time with the next one. He might have been able to wow Spina, but it’s true that he’s out of practice. While his friend’s reaction suggests he has nothing to worry about, Babe still wants to know what he’s doing.

There are probably other people he could ask, but if he’s going off of experience alone, he can think of no one on earth who’s kissed more people than Floyd Talbert.

“You -- you want me?” Tab looks unexpectedly nervous after Babe’s pitch. His hands dig into the knees of his jeans; he looks like he’s not sure whether to laugh or stare.

“Just to teach me. Show me what I’m doing and all that. Nothing personal!”

Babe sits himself down on the bench across from Tab, swinging one leg over to face him. Just behind Tab’s shoulder, Shifty wears a frown on his face. That he’s being silent is not a surprise, but Shifty doesn’t often look troubled by many things. Babe isn’t sure what to think of the expression on his friend’s face now, but it is almost enough to give him pause.

(Does Shifty want Babe to kiss him too? Or is he just upset that Babe’s interrupted their afternoon? Shifty and Tab looked very comfortable together on the bench when Babe spotted them. Shifty had been leaning into Tab’s side as he showed him something on his phone, and they seemed like the picture of good friends. Babe hopes he hasn’t intruded on them hanging out.)

The look on Shifty’s face is almost enough to make him reconsider, but Tab rallies. He takes a deep breath, draws his shoulders up, then turns to his friend.

“I,” he says. “If you don’t want -- do you mind, or --”

Shifty hastily holds up his hands. “No, no, it’s fine.”

“Okay. Great.”

Tab wipes his palms on his knees as he spins back to face Babe. Something about this seems off. Maybe it's the glimmer of nervousness in Tab’s eyes (when has Floyd Talbert ever been nervous about kissing someone); maybe it’s the terse set to Shifty’s jaw; maybe it's just the growing feeling that he's intruding on something he really shouldn't be intruding on. Babe doesn't know, but a part of him regrets kissing Tab and he hasn't even started yet.

“Uhh,” he says as Tab leans in a bit. “Are you -- you sure you know what you're doing --”

“Don't worry,” Shifty pipes up. “He does.” Then Tab’s face flares red, and so does Shifty’s -- and, hell, so does Babe, and he's not even sure why.

Tab bites on his lower lip and squares himself before huffing out an exhale. “Aww hell, Babe, just do it.”

That's all Babe needs to hear. He doesn't hesitate before leaning in and pressing his lips to Tab’s.

It's… not what he expected. He's seen Talbert kiss -- he's seen the heat, the fire, the intensity he can bring to any liplock. The guy is practically a kissing pro, so there’s no reason macking on him should be like liplocking with a dead fish. It is, however. Tab doesn't move, doesn't reciprocate, barely even breathes.

Babe takes notes anyway. He observes the casual positioning of Tab’s body, the way he lets his breathing shallow just so. He notes the movement of his lips, the subtle pressure put into the kiss. It’s all very scientific. Definitely not what Babe was expecting, but he isn’t complaining.

When Talbert pulls back (sooner than Babe expected), he looks like he’s just been stung by a bee. Babe really hopes that’s not the sort of reaction his kiss elicits out of people; his worry must show, because Tab scrambles to reassure him.

“That was good. Great job, Babe, you’ve really… got the hang of it. You satisfied?”

There’s something a little stressed out in his voice, an edge Babe can’t place. He nods, because it’s not a lie, and seems like the right thing to do. Then his eyes flicker back towards Shifty.

It’s like a tiny piece of the world slips out of alignment -- like suddenly the sky is green instead of blue, or a dinosaur pops out of the ground. Babe’s stomach plunges to his feet, while his heart leaps into his throat. An icy chill runs down his spine.

He’s never seen Shifty look angry before. He’s definitely never seen him look like this -- a single stone’s throw away from his eyes going black and starting to scream demonic curses. It’s terrifying. In that moment Babe does not see Shifty, the mild-mannered guy who sits next to him in Philosophy. He sees the same kid who was raised in the Virginia backwoods, and once shot an apple off Hoobler’s head from across the room.

He is seized with the sudden fear that Shifty might carry a gun on him at all times, and in two seconds that gun might be trained on him.

“Uhh, yeah! Sure! Thanks, buddy!” Babe leaps to his feet, hastily clapping Tab on the shoulder. “Sorry for interrupting your guy time, I’ll just go now.”

Talbert says nothing. He still looks a little mortified by the whole ordeal. It’s Shifty who offers him a sweet-as-honey smile and says, “See you around, Babe.”

He has no clue what just happened, but Babe can’t leave them alone fast enough.

Babe’s got his pride, sure; but when put in retrospect, he also has a limited pool of friends. Good friends are hard to come by. Friends you wouldn't mind kissing are even moreso. Friends he'd both be willing to kiss and trust with his life are in short supply, and Julian just barely qualifies for both categories.

If only he'd stop being so stubborn about it.

“Screw off!” Julian hollers, and Babe ducks a pillow aimed at his head. “I ain't kissin’ you!”

Julian’s throaty Alabama twang is leaking into his Philly accent, the way it always does when he's agitated. It makes him kind of sound like he's been gurgling molasses and glass. It's terrifying, and Babe’s lucky he can understand a word he says.

“Don't be like that.” He catches the next pillow that sails at him as Julian ducks behind the couch. “Jules, come on. There's no running away from this.”

“The hell there isn't! You watch me!”

Babe is watching; he wishes he weren't. “Julian.”

He can see his friend’s shadow as he shuffles along the floor. He looks like a baby just getting the hang of crawling. It's a little pathetic. When he takes a step forward, a sneaker comes flying at his head.

“Jules, I'm going to get you!”

“That's a threat! You're threatening me!” Julian hollers back. Babe rolls his eyes.

He studies his friend’s shadow as Julian slowly raises himself into a crouch. He can hear heavy breathing from behind his sanctuary, can see the erratic rhythm of Julian’s shoulders. He counts down the seconds in his head: three… two… one…

Julian sprints, but Babe is ready. He launches himself over the couch, tackling Julian and getting his arms around his shoulders. Julian doesn't go down, but Babe forces him away from the door. He tries to pin Julian against the couch, but Julian just topples backwards, and the both go head over heels.

When Babe gets his bearings again, he's lying on the couch. Julian is pinned under him, looking simultaneously pissed off and defeated.

Babe smirks. “I win.”

It takes a few seconds for Julian to break, but Babe sees the moment he does. The last of the fight drains out of him, and he sighs like Babe’s lips are the greatest imposition ever forced upon him. “Fine,” he mutters. “Lay it on me.”

So, Babe does.

Julian tastes like the coke he was drinking just before Babe ambushed him. His lips are chapped and chewed; he’s holding his breath, his entire body frozen in uncertainty. Has Julian ever kissed anyone before? Babe is pretty sure he has (he has to have, right?) but the lingering uncertainty only fuels his determination to make this kiss count.

He leans into Julian a bit more, deepening the kiss, and allows his tongue to brush against his friend’s lips. Julian lets out a tiny gasp, mouth parting of its own accord, and his fingers dig into Babe’s shoulders. He pulls him closer.

It doesn’t take Babe long to find his rhythm. Kissing, he’s starting to learn, is all about keeping in tune with the other person. It’s like dancing, and he’s one hell of a good dancer, so this is no different. He moves against Julian’s mouth, pressing and lightening at every indication from Julian’s eager lips. He’s not trying to overwhelm his friend, but it’s obvious that Julian’s getting too eager from the way he leans up even when Babe starts to pull back.

Babe presses him back down, breaking away. “Jules,” he huffs, looking into his friend’s dazed face. “Easy. Take it easy.”

He matches his breathing with Julian’s, helping his friend calm his ragged pants. Slowly Julian returns to his senses. “Oh my god,” he murmurs when he’s able to talk again. His head dips back against the couch, and he squeezes his eyes shut.

Babe isn’t sure what he did, but he’s pretty positive he broke him. “Uhh… Jules?”

“Get off me, Babe,” Julian tells him, so that’s what Babe does.

“So, this is a dare, right?”

Babe shrugs, taking a long sip of his beer before setting it down on the table again. “Something like that. I guess. It's hard to explain, ya know?”

Grant hums in agreement, while Liebgott snorts into his own drink. “Oh yeah. Yup. Real rocket science.”

“I'm just amazed he's gotten so many people to kiss him this far,” Liebgott drawls, leaning in with that all-too-familiar smirk on his face. “Spina? Julian? I can see them, but Talbert while he was on a date? That takes some balls.”

It takes Babe a second to process this. He blinks, not quite understanding what Liebgott is saying, until he remembers the dark look in Shifty’s eyes, and the radiating anxiety of Talbert. Oh, he thinks to himself. Realization drops onto his head like an anvil. Huh. That makes sense.

“What a legend,” agrees Grant. “You're really proving your point.”

Babe glares into his beer. He needs better friends. “I guess.”

He doesn’t see Grant and Liebgott exchange glances, but he can imagine it. He knows how his friends’ brains work. They have the same brand of semi-malicious deviousness (which Liebgott conceals beneath hard-shelled sarcasm, and Grant with smooth charisma) that comes out at the worst times. Babe has his own wicked streak, which is probably why they all get along so well.

He knows his friends are planning something as soon as Liebgott gets out of his seat and swings around to Babe’s side of the booth. Babe allows it, raising an eyebrow at his friend. Liebgott only smirks, resting his chin on his hand.

“So?” he says. “Show me what you got.”

“What? No.” Babe doesn’t know why he wasn’t expecting this, but… it’s not happening. Liebgott is an attractive guy, to be sure (almost painfully attractive, with smooth skin, high cheekbones, and hair to die for) but that doesn’t mean Babe wants to put his lips on his friend. Kissing Liebgott and Grant, he feels, is crossing a line that doesn’t exist with the guys he’s been friends with all his life. With Bill and Julian, there are no boundaries. With his college friends, however --

“Babe.” Liebgott is closer now, near enough that Babe’s vision is filled with his plump red lips. It would be so easy to just lean in…

“Do it,” Liebgott whispers, and so Babe does.

Unlike everyone else, Liebgott is ready, experienced, and eager. As soon as Babe’s lips are on his, he feels a hand sneak up to cup the back of his neck. Not to be outdone, Babe kisses deeper and sucks a bit of Liebgott’s bottom lip into his mouth. He feels the other man huff against him, a small satisfied noise escaping Liebgott’s throat.

He’s not sure why he didn’t think Liebgott would be an aggressive kisser, but he is. Teeth nip at Babe’s lips. Liebgott sucks, ambitious and determined, unafraid to get close. By the time they part for air Babe is breathless for a different reason. He’s not certain whether he was kissing Liebgott, or Liebgott was kissing him.

His friend offers him a tiny smirk, and Babe forces himself to breathe. What the hell was that?

“No need to look so shocked,” Grant chimes, sounding thrilled. When Babe looks up at him, he sees his friend is watching him with a glint in his eye. “My turn.”

“You’re kidding me,” Babe says -- and that’s all he has time to say, because suddenly Grant is sitting on the other side of him, and Liebgott is watching them both expectantly.

Babe has two options here. He could put a stop to all of this, here and now; or he could roll with it.

Ahh, what the hell? Any damage has already been done. How much worse can it get from here?

“I’m choosing to believe you guys are just trying to be helpful friends,” Babe tells them; then he grabs Grant by the front of his shirt and pulls him forward to kiss him.

Kissing Grant is sweeter than kissing Liebgott, but twice as sensual. He’s certainly not shy. After a few seconds of Babe’s lips moving against his, Grant places his hands on Babe’s elbows and guides him along, pulling him closer. This time Babe is the one to feel a tongue brush against his lips, and he can’t help the soft moan that leaves him.

When Grant pulls away, Babe feels a little dizzy, but he still manages to smile. “Real helpful,” he echoes, and Grant huffs out a throaty chuckle.

“You’re one hell of a kisser, Heffron,” he tells him. “Too bad I’m better.”

That’s when Babe has to pull away and down the rest of his drink, because he feels a little like he’s burning up. That’s definitely not a feeling he should be getting from his friends, and he doesn’t want to think too deep into it, so he drains the rest of his (mostly full) glass before slamming it down on the table.

“Okay. Uhh. Anyone feel like darts?”

“Sounds good,” Grant says, and finishes off his shot. Liebgott is already out of his seat and walking towards the dartboard.

They don’t mention it for the rest of the night.

After Doris and all she entailed, Babe made a very solemn vow to himself. Girls were not for him. Dating girls was not his thing; touching them was not up his alley; kissing them was not a thing he wanted to do. After Doris, he swore he would never kiss another girl again.

He has no desire to. He has no reason to.

Frannie Peca is very good at giving people reasons to do things.

“Come on,” she coaxes, inching closer to Babe on the sofa. He, in turn, scoots further back. “It doesn't mean anything! Geez, Babe, of course not! Bill and I are practically married. I just can't stand the thought of you being… you know, being --”

“Scarred?” Babe volunteers. “Haunted?”

Fran snaps her fingers. “Exactly. Whatever that girl did to you, you've gotta know that there's more to kissing girls than… that.”

Babe takes a deep breath. Never again, echoes a voice in the back of his mind. He doesn't know how to express his resolution to Fran without sounding pathetic, though, so he just frowns. Of course kissing Fran wouldn't mean anything -- hell, she’s practically his sister -- but kissing her sounds as appealing as putting his lips on a fish.

(He’s seen the way she and Bill make out. It’s like two wild animals trying to gnaw each others’ faces off. Babe doesn’t want to get anywhere near that.)

“Frannie,” he says, “I like you, I appreciate you, and I know you’d kill a man for me. I just don't trust that you won't try to eat me.”

Fran looks like she wants to laugh out loud. Instead she tilts her head, sending Babe a cool look. “‘I could kiss everyone in this room,’” she sings out, pitching her voice in an (alarmingly accurate) impression of Babe. He can't help wincing.

He did say that. He remembers those words coming out of his mouth like it was yesterday, and he meant it, too. Of all the ways to cap off his kissing marathon, macking one on the girlfriend of the guy who dared him in the first place seems like as good a finale as any.

“Jesus,” he sighs, then leans in. “Fine. Pucker up, Frannie.”

“That's the least romantic thing you could ever say before kissing someone --” Fran comments, because she's just as bad as Bill at shutting her mouth. Babe does it for her, cutting her off by cupping the back of her neck in his hand and pulling her forward. She doesn't get the chance to squeal in surprise; a second later, Babe’s lips are pressed against hers.

Frannie isn’t a bad kisser, Babe will give her that. She’s also not over-aggressive. She knows where Babe’s boundaries are, and she’s mindful not to cross them. She lets him take the lead, kissing back only when she feels him kiss her. Babe’s jaw is tight with tension until a manicured hand comes up to slowly massage it.

He’s more concerned about the lipstick he’s probably getting on his face than his body’s (expected, at this point) lack of physical reaction. When Fran breaks away from him, there’s an inquiring look in her eyes. Babe licks his lips and shrugs.

“Okay, I give,” he says. “You’re a better kisser than Doris.”

“You better believe it,” Fran retorts, sounding delighted.

That would and should have been the end of it -- but at that moment, the door had to slam open. Bill takes two steps in the room and stops cold. He takes in Babe’s lipstick-covered face, his girlfriend’s hand still lingering on top of Babe’s own, and his eyes go huge.

“Yo,” says Babe.

Bill charges at him.

“THE ONE GUY,” he hollers as he pursues Babe around the room like an incensed bull. “THE ONE GUY I DIDN’T HAVE TO FUCKIN’ WORRY ABOUT!”

“Bill, for fuck’s sake, sit down,” Fran snaps, leaning back against the sofa.

“I’LL WRING YOUR SCRAWNY GINGER NECK!”

Babe can’t say anything, because he’s too busy running for dear life. He’s gone up against a livid Bill before, and knows the odds are not in his favor. Also, Bill protecting Frannie is like Angry Bill times five, so his threats to kill him might very well be serious.

“Jesus -- christ --” he shouts over his shoulder as he sprints up the stairs. “Bill, it was for the contest, you know I wouldn’t --”

“YOU KISSED MY GIRL FOR THE STUPID CONTEST?”

Admittedly, Babe’s judgement may have been flawed.

He makes it up the stairs with Bill three feet behind him, and sprints for his room. If he can just get the door closed and locked, he’ll be safe. He’ll jump out the window if he has to, but at least he won’t face death at the hands of charging Bill --

They’re always telling Julian to get his sneakers out of the damn hallway, and Julian never listens. Julian really should listen.

Babe goes down like a ton of bricks, and the last thing he sees is a doorknob rushing towards his face.

When he opens his eyes again, he’s in the backseat of Fran’s car, and the first thing he sees is blood in his hair. He makes a noise like a startled cat, and tries to sit up, only for a pair of hands to gently hold him still.

“Easy,” says a voice that Babe’s fuzzy mind takes a moment to recognize as his best friend’s. “You’re fine, Babe. Just don’t move.”

Babe blinks up at Bill, who’s two shades of pale as he cradles his head in his lap. He offers what he hopes is an apologetic smile. “It didn’t mean a thing,” he says. “It was just the dare. Sorry, buddy.”

Bill huffs out a strained laugh, and shakes his head. “Shut up, Heffron. I know. It’s okay, I know.”

At this point, Babe is a regular face at the local emergency clinic. He comes in often enough with various injuries, ranging from drunken accidents, ill-advised consumption of dubious foods, to regular old clumsiness. Bill has driven him to the hospital bleeding enough times that he’s stopped warning Babe not to get blood all over his car. (“I swear to god,” he muttered a few medical bills ago, “those nurses are gonna think we’re all knocking ya around or somethin’.”)

On the contrary, the nurses at the clinic all know Babe at this point, and like him. When he stumbles through the doors this time, Bill supporting him as he holds a towel full of ice to his forehead, Anna looks up from her desk and smiles her exasperated smile at him.

“What is it this time, Babe?” she asks. “Did you fall out a window? Slip at the pool?”

Babe shakes his head, ignoring how woozy it makes him feel. “Anna, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Renee is the one who shows him to his bed and takes his vitals, so she gets the full story. When Babe gets to the part about the sneakers, she clicks her tongue. She also doesn’t look surprised, and Babe’s not sure what that says about him.

“Doctor Roe will be here in a moment,” she tells him, giving him a fond pat on the shoulder after adjusting the pillow beneath his head. “Try not to injure anything else while you wait.”

Babe rolls his eyes, then regrets it, because that actually hurts. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he replies, and Renee grins at him.

Once he's finally left alone (Bill and Fran, both used to the “get Babe to the hospital” drill by now, have gone to the smoothie place down the street -- because they're supportive friends) Babe leans back against the pillow and allows himself to grin. Gene Roe is his favorite doctor, and one of his favorite people in general. He's stitched Babe up enough times that he could practically recite Babe’s entire medical history, yet he still insists on calling him Edward. He has a quiet, understated sense of humor, and a smile just as delightful. Babe has never seen steamer hands or kinder eyes. He's never met anyone like Gene Roe.

(So he's completely in love with his doctor. Sue him. He's here enough, he thinks he has the right.)

He's not really looking forward to telling Doc Roe this story, however. Roe already thinks he's kind of an idiot, but this will really be the nail in his coffin.

When the doctor walks in, wearing his crisp white lab coat and dark shadows under his eyes, Babe perks up. Roe looks him over and sighs, utterly unsurprised.

“I was hoping we wouldn't have to see you back here for awhile,” says Roe, setting down Babe’s chart.

“Aww, come on, Gene. You know I'm you favorite patient.”

“Most frequent patient,” Roe corrects, but he has a tiny smile on his lips. “What did you in today, Edward?”

Babe offers a sheepish smile. “Doc,” he says, “would you believe me if I told you this was all for a stupid dare?”

To his credit, Roe doesn't look fazed. Babe often wonders how often he hears this type of thing, or if he's just one of those people who nothing can get to. Either way, the slightly quirk of his eyebrows makes Babe fall even more in love.

“That so? What sort of dare is this?”

“A kissing dare.” Babe can't keep the boast out of his voice. “Friend of mine bet me I couldn't get a buncha people to kiss me. I told him I could. It was all going great for a while, too.”

“Lemme guess. Until you kissed his girlfriend.”

Babe can't help chuckling, a little embarrassed. “How'd you know?”

As Roe spreads the numbing alcohol over the cut in Babe’s temple, he huffs out what could almost be called a laugh. “I’ve got a sixth sense for these things, Heffron. Plus, you’re not hard to figure out.”

What does that mean? Surely Roe doesn’t think he’s the type of guy to go around kissing other people’s girlfriends. That’s so far from Babe that they’re not even on the same level. “Aww, come on, Gene. It wasn’t like that. I’m not like that, believe me.”

He doesn’t wince at the feeling of the needle entering his skin. He’s too focused on the way Roe’s eyebrow quirks, as if Babe has just handed him a very interesting piece of information and he’s struggling to decide what to make of it.

“Not like that…” he echoes, and Babe huffs a breath.

“I like guys, for one. Plus, I’d never do anything like that to anyone. I’m a hell of a lot of things, but no one’ll say I ain’t loyal.”

This is not a conversation they’ve had before. For as many times as Babe has bantered with Gene, has admired him, has soaked up every bit of information he could learn about this enigmatic doctor -- he never shared this piece of himself.

He’s a little surprised at how interested Gene looks now. Almost... happy.

Gene doesn’t say another word for a long moment. There is only the sting of the needle stitching Babe’s skin, and Babe’s eyes boring into the doctor’s face. Only after Gene is done and has clipped the stitch does he say, “I know you’re loyal. I can tell that much.”

“I thought you had a sixth sense,” Babe jokes, and Gene huffs a small laugh.

“I don’t know what I’ve got,” he answers, and sets the needle aside. “So. Did it count?” When Babe raises his eyebrows, Gene shrugs. “The kiss. Did it count, even though she was Bill’s girlfriend? Or did it count, even though she was a girl?”

Babe feels a spark of something inside of him -- something crazy, hopeful, a little delirious. It might be that concussion talking, but he has the sudden image of Gene’s lips pressed to his, and feels a surge of bravery he didn’t know he had.

“I guess not,” he says. “I need one more kiss, then.”

Gene’s eyes come to rest on him. Babe stares back, calm despite the fireworks in his stomach.

When Gene sits down next to him on the bed, Babe feels almost giddy. “Let me get a look at that cut, Heffron.”

Gene’s fingers brush across his skin, leaving electricity in their wake. He is close, close enough that all it would take is to lean in a little bit, and Babe wants to but he’s also terrified.

“Gene,” he whispers. “Can I…”

Gene swallows. His head bobs, just the slightest bit, and Babe closes the distance between them.

He’s imagined kissing Gene (an embarrassing amount of times before), but no fantasy holds a candle to the real thing. Gene’s kiss is slow and soft, just enough to leave Babe yearning for more. When he presses further, determined to kiss Gene like he’s never been kissed before, a spark seems to pass between them; and suddenly Babe can’t get enough.

He grips Gene by the elbows, pulling him close. In response, Gene wraps his arms around Babe’s shoulders and leans in. At the same time, Babe’s lower lip is sucked into Gene’s mouth, and a rush of euphoria bursts inside of him. He can’t help but groan against Gene’s lips, and this only spurs the other man on.

By the time Gene’s tongue is in his mouth, Babe’s head is spinning. He can’t breathe; he couldn’t think, even if he wanted to. All he feels, all he wants to feel, is Gene, and dear god, Gene is perfect.

When they part for breath, the world spins around them both. Gene’s exhales are ragged; every rush of air in Babe’s lungs makes him feel like he’s drowning. His eyes are full of Gene’s own dark pools, his skin is electric from his touch, and he can’t quite remember who he is.

Slowly, slowly, Gene leans back. He’s smiling.

“You get extra points if you get someone’s number, too?”

And Babe doesn't know what to say, feels kind of like he’s been struck by lightning, so all he's able to do is not. “Yeah,” he croaks out. “Totally.”

Gene -- so handsome, so kissable Gene-- smiles and pulls out a pen. Babe barely has the chance to register what’s happening as the felt tip scrawls a series of numbers across the back of his hand before being recapped with a satisfying clink.

Gene nods to himself, approving his own work. He studies Babe’s hand, then his face, and a small smile quirks his lips. “That shouldn’t scar. Take it easy for a few days, just in case you do have a small concussion, but you seem alright. Don’t go tripping over any more shoes.”

Babe swallows. “I’ll do my best, Gene.”

With one last cryptic smile, Gene leaves him alone in the room. Babe takes a moment to catch his breath before slumping forward, pressing a hand to the uninjured side of his face.

He knows two things for sure: this ordeal is well-and-truly over; and that was the best dare he’s ever taken.

(Three things, he reconsiders as he enters Gene Roe’s number into his phone. He’s definitely going to stop visiting the clinic so much, because he’s got a funny feeling his doctor is up for house calls.)

#baberoe #babe/everyone heck #my writing #Anonymous

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luckywarner · 7 years ago

Text

🍀LOCKED🍀

[I’ve come to bless us all with no Crap Advice Carson, and no Yucky. Here it is. The Stage babysitting extravaganza. So, yes, they were supposed to have some form of date today, but Sage told Stove yesterday that he was going to have to babysit instead, so, having a brief lapse in judgment, and forgetting that today was her sacred day, the hallowed 4/20 (blazeit), she offered to help him out so that they could still spend time together. (Because she’s a puke-worthy, adorable lil girlfriend like that.)

This notion clearly excited Sage immediately, and he accepted that offer with many grateful smooches, which, in turn, excited Stove, though, also in the midst of her ‘wtf have i done’, because she really had no idea what to do with children. Yikes.

So, here we are now, and Stove has just arrived at, Emerson and Anais’ house, and Emily’s probably down for a nap, but William is right there, waiting to meet Stove, and probably holding his cousin’s hand because this girl looks like she should be under a bridge, not in my house. (And fight me I’m using the exact same Will gifs from the last post. IDC.)]

Will, this is Stevie. She’s gonna hang out with us today.

Heeeeeeeeeeeeey.

Are you Sage’s girlfriend?

Um. Yeaaaaah?

Okay. No kissin’. That’s gross.

[Sage lets out a hearty chuckle and Stove here just purses her lips.] No kissing, Will. Got it.

Good! Is it snack time now?

It sure is, buddy. I’ll go get you something ready if you and Stevie go sit down and wait for me.

You got it, Sage. [Will starts toddling over to sit down on the floor where there appeared to be an open book, which he picks up and starts to look at.]

Sage, wait, n--... [She doesn’t want to be left alone with the kid how do you talk to kids what do you do with kids.]

He’s four, Steve. You’ll be alright. Just go sit with him. [He gives her a short pat on the shoulder and disappears into the kitchen.]

[There is a grimace, but he follows her man’s instructions and sits by the child, who she has now noticed is not looking at a picture book, but an actual book. What.] Kid, are you reading that?

I have a name.

Wh--. Okay, sorry. Will, are you reading that?

Yes. I can do that.

You’re four.

What’s your point?

Four year olds don’t read.

Wrooooong.

What are you reading?

Dictionary.

… You’re kidding.

[Will just shakes his head back and forth really fast and holds the book up so that Stove can see that it clearly says ‘dictionary’ on the spine.]

Kids your age usually like Goodnight Moon.

That book is dumb. Rabbits can’t knit socks and mittens.

… Fair enough.

[Out Sage comes with what appears to be apple juice and goldfish, and honest to God, the sight of that snack makes Stove jealous, because hot damn, goldfish are delicious.] Here we go~~~.

[He hands ‘em off to kiddo, who puts the book down on his knees and grabs his snack. So then he pulls Stove aside, and he hands her some goldfish too. What a great boyfriend. She’s gonna say as much.]

You’re the best boyfriend ever.

Yeah, aren’t you so lucky?

I am~. [Sage just smiles, since no kissing is allowed.] But about your cousin, though. He reads? Like, dictionaries?

Oh, yeah. He only reads books with no pictures. His parents are professors, so they’ve been teaching him to read for a year now.

Holy shhhh– heck.

That was adorable.

I’m not gonna curse in front of a four-year-old, Sage.

I appreciate the adorable thought, but he’s more than used to it with his father being around.

I’d still feel wrong for it.

You are so cute~.

[From the other side of the room.] Are you two done making goo-goo eyes now????? I’m gonna lose my goldfish.

Sorry, buddy. [Sage smiles over at him, and then Stage joins the kiddo back over there. TIME JUMP.]

[We come upon the three silently reading to themselves, because they can totally do that, and Stove wonders to himself why all children can’t be as calm as William, because, so far he’s stayed in his lane, ate goldfish, and read books. Like, she could get behind kids if they were all like this one. (Get over it, you won’t have a calm child.)

But then, a baby is heard crying, and Sage gets up from his book, saying he’ll be back in a moment, and there they are, alone again. Stove expects everything to stay as it had been before Sage left, but alas, she is not alone on this couch anymore, as Will has joined her, looking over at her book.]

Whatcha reading?

Poetry.

By whom?

Ralph Waldo Emerson.

My dad is named after him.

… Your dad’s name is Ralph? [Stove is now thinking her boyfriend has an Uncle Ralph.]

Emerson. His name is Emerson.

That makes better sense.

Dad doesn’t let me look at his poetry books. [:( face.]

Sorry, kid.

I wanna read them. [:(((((]

Maybe someday, bud.

You should let me look at yours.

I should what?

Lemme seeeeeeeeeeee.

Uh, I don’t know about that.

Lemme sEEEEEE.

[He’s reaching for Stove’s book, and Stove’s not about to fight a four-year-old, so she just kind lets the kid take the book from her hand, and sits there in defeat until Sage comes back holding another child. He looks confusedly at the empty-handed Stove who just gives him an equally defeated look. And here she thought he could change her mind about crazy children.]

What’d we miss?

M’reading Stevie’s book!

Yeah, I can see that.

Yup.

Oooookay. [He gives Stevie a confused look. She shrugs with an exasperated look.]

Sage. What’s Eros mean???

[Stove gives Sage a ‘yikes’ look as Will looks on in pure curiosity. TIME JUMP.]

[So it’s later now, and probably both Will and Emily have fallen asleep, and so Stage is getting some well-deserved alone time, because Will wouldn’t let them even sit together, let alone let poor Stove read a book, because he’s a butt child, and he just wants some attention.

So now, whilst William is taking a nap in his own bed, Stage is snuggled up on the couch together, because lack of physical contact for the past few hours. And go.]

You know, you’re reacting to Will a lot better than I thought you would.

He’s just a kid, Sage. I can handle a kid.

Even when he won’t let you read your own book~? Or, ya know, touch your boyfriend?

Well, that part isn’t fun, but it’s fine… I guess.

He’s just really– aggressive in getting what he wants. He’s a go-getter, you might say.

He must be real fun on the playground.

From what I hear, he doesn’t talk much~.

I find that surprising, given how many questions he asks.

He’s just curious about the world. He wants to learn.

Good trait, I guess.

Mm. [He nods.] But, honestly, Stevie. You have been really good with him. And I’m really glad you decided to come with me. Seeing you interact with a kid just made you all the more attractive~.

You’re into that mom aesthetic, huh?

Oh, pfffff. Stop that. Isn’t it, like, a biological thing for guys to find it attractive for women to be good with kids? It’s cute.

Yeah, well, I think that biological thing must go both ways, because you with him wasn’t exactly a bad sight either, babe.

Well, thanks~.

I think you’ll be a great dad someday.

You think so?

Yeah. And I also think– if I’m lucky… they’ll be my kids too.

– Really?

Definitely. I mean… kids are, well, not easy, and I’m still not so sure that me being a mom would be a good thing, or that I’d even be a good mom at all, but… I think if they were our kids– it’d be pretty great. Awesome, even.

Oh, Stevie… That’s the best thing you’ve ever said to me. And, after today, I think you’d be an amazing mom. I’d be lucky for you to be the mother of my children.

You really think so?

It’s definitely a chance I’d be willing to take.

You’re perfect.

[And almost as soon as they seem to be getting to the stage of making that dream a reality, here comes a-calling, a tiny little voice.] I said no kissing!

WILL, Oh, dear. Right, yeah. Sorry. I forgot the rule.

Well, don’t do it again. [The baby makes a grossed out face. and I guess fin.]

#lockedpost #4/20/17 #(JUBL)

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whenyouwriteyouwrite · 7 years ago

Text

sunrises are better with you

Word count: 4,347

Characters: Nona, Mezuma

Warning: implied sexual acts.

First | Previous | Next

Unknown number: ‘Escorting Mikla back. Be there at 11:30.’

Unknown number: ‘This is Nona.’

Mezuma was back stage in between sets when she got the texts from Nona. She smiled to herself, saved the number in her phone, and sent back a quick ‘i figured ;)’. It must’ve been noticeable how excited Mezuma was about their date tonight because as soon as she looked at her phone, a couple of the other dancers were gathering around her.

“Who ya textin’ Mezzie? Gotcha a new fella?” A tall, curvy, light purple demon with deeply colored horns peered over her shoulder at her phone.

“Ain’t a new fella, Keeks.” Mezuma swatted her away playfully.

“Ooo a lady then?” A deeper purple demon with long curly hair and 2 sets of eyes wrapped her arms around Mezuma’s shoulders. “What’s she like? How long ya both been goin’ steady?”

“It’s our first date tonight, actually.” Mezuma shyly tucked some of her hair behind her ear.

“I knew you had somethin’ goin’. You kept lookin’ out that door last night like you were waitin’ for someone.” The horned demon accused.

“Oh, Keeks be nice.” the other demon swatted at her. “I’m real happy for you, Mez! I hope the date goes well.” Lileth yelped when she heard her name being called, and rushed out with Keeks behind her, leaving Mezuma to finish changing into something less stage ready and more walking around the club ready. High wasted, high cut shorts, with a boat neck crop top.

Sometimes customers just liked having pretty girls to talk to for a little while. Mezuma didn’t mind doing that. She liked talking to people, she was good at it. And you really only had to talk to them for a couple minutes. But sometimes customers would get lost in the atmosphere of all these pretty girls giving them attention. That’s usually when they get handsy and Mezuma has to break some fingers. This happens two to three times a night. Now it hasn’t happened yet, so the chances of it happening with the next person Mezuma spoke to were getting higher and higher.

This guy she was talking to seemed nice at first. Very friendly, just making quick conversation with her. He was sitting in one of the booths near the bar so Mezuma was standing by him, leaning up against the seats behind him, just chatting. It was very subtle, but he somehow got his hand around her hip and was grabbing at her ass without her even realizing it. However, there was no hesitation when Mezuma grabbed the back of his head and slammed it on the table.

“Mez!” Malii hopped over the counter of the bar and pulled Mezuma away from the customer. “You okay, kid?”

“Moron was gettin’ handsy.” she waved over one of the bouncers, who stomped his way over to the customer. “I got it covered.”

“Alright, killer. I’ll deal with this you go watch the bar for me.” Malii pushed her off towards the bar so he could help the bouncer get the guy to his feet and escort him out. Lileth was finishing her set, so Mezuma was watching her from the far corner of the bar. She didn’t even notice when Nona slid into the stool behind her, until Nona gently touched her arm making her spin around in surprise.

“You’re here.” Mezuma smiled, holding herself back from climbing Nona like a tree because she was wearing that dumb leather jacket again with a solid black button up shirt underneath with gold lining around the collar.

“I saw what happened. You okay?” Nona said, lowering her head so she was speaking next to Mezuma’s ear.

“I’m fine. Told ya I could handle myself.” she grinned and relaxed up against the bar. “Hi.”

“Hello.” Nona smiled at her. “I really want to kiss you, but I don’t want to disrupt you while you are working.”

“Yeah, customers tend to see the dancers significant other’s as other customers. So they tend to get a little jealous when we’re kissin’ our partners and not them. Definitely later tho.” Mezuma winked at her.

“Thanks, Mez.” Malii returned to his place behind the bar and grabbed a glass to get himself some water. “Can I help you?” he asked, eyeing Nona.

“This is Nona, Malii, she’s takin’ me out tonight.”

“Secret body guard number 3.” Malii gulped down half his glass of water and almost choked. “Wait isn’t she Big Bad’s body guard?”

“Yup.”

“Mezuma you can’t be serious. She’s with Big Bad.”

“Saying his name wont get you into trouble.” Nona rested her arms on the counter. “Despite what you’ve heard.”

“Behave.” Mezuma warned the both of them. “I have to go get changed before we go, kay?” she squeezed Nona’s arm before walking to the backdoor of the stage.

“I imagine I’m not that intimidating to you.” Malii said after a span of silence between him and Nona.

“Not in the slightest.” she responded honestly.

“Still, Mezuma is like a sister to me. I wanted to kill that mook Kozic myself for what he did to her. And this will probably fall on deaf ears but if anything happens to that kid cause of you, I’m willin’ to take the risk and try to beat your ass.”

“I assure you.. I have no intention of hurting Mezuma in anyway. But I will keep what you’ve said in mind.”

“What uhh..” Malii cleared his throat nervously. “What ever happened with Kozic?”

“You needn’t concern yourself with him anymore.” Nona replied ominously. Mezuma appeared from the backstage door again, only having changed her shorts into white pants, and grabbed her fur coat and purse. She smiled again when she saw Nona and practically skipped over to her.

“You two playin’ nice?”

“She’d kick my ass, why would I want to mess with her.” Malii half joked.

“You wouldn’t kick his ass, would you?” Mezuma whispered.

“Not unless I was prompted to.” Nona answered. “But I could. Very easily.”

“Don’t. He’s my buddy.” Mezuma made grabby hands to Malii, who willing leaned over the counter and allowed her to squish his face.

“Take her away.” Malii pleaded to Nona, who chuckled and took a hold of one of Mezuma’s purse straps and guided her outside.

“What did Malii and you talk about?” Mezuma asked once they were outside.

“Nothing particularly interesting.” Nona took Mezuma’s hand in hers as they walked.

“Did he give you his ‘big brother shtick’?”

“A variation of it, yes.”

“That’s kinda ballsy threatenin’ you, all things considerin’..”

“He meant well. He knew of his own limitations, but he cares much more about your well being.” Nona brought the other woman’s hand up to her mouth and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “I respect that about him.”

“That’s good.” she let go of Nona’s hand to grab her face and bring her down more to her level so she could press her lips on Nona’s. Not entirely surprised, Nona willing went and wrapped her arm around Mezuma’s waist. Humming in victory, Mezuma gently nipped on Nona’s bottom lip and was reward with the taller woman pulling away from her.

“You’re terrible.”

“You’re one to talk, have you seen what you’re wearing?”

“I.. had help.”

“Did Mikla help you?” Mezume asked as she slid her hand into Nona’s again and urged them to continue walking.

“He insisted on helping me. He kept saying my normal attire wasn’t date worthy.”

“Doesn’t matter to me what you’re wearing. I’d rather you not wear anything if I’m bein’ honest.”

“This is why you’re terrible.”

“I know.” Mezume winked at her again. “So where are you takin’ me on this big fancy date?”

“It’s not fancy. And it’s a place called Atlas.”

“Whoa, Atlas? Atlas is plenty fancy, Nona. I’m completely under dressed and under class for somethin’ like that.”

“No one will care, Mezuma. I promise. If any issues are made, I will handle them.”

“I can handle myself, Nona. This is just a.. a Hell of a first date.”

“I suppose it is mostly for my benefit, if I am to be completely honest. I’ve never dated.. Most of my interests have been one night stands. And as I’ve said to you before, it’s different with you. I like.. experiencing these new things with you. It’s enojyable.”

“I ain’t against the goin’ out parts. I just don’t need to be treated to a fancy place. We coulda had take out at my place and I would’ve been happy with that.”

“We could do that.”

“Nope, I’m committed now. I wanna see the looks on these snobs faces when they see me walkin’ into their fancy place.”

The restaurant wasn’t too far from Club Crimson. It only took them a twenty minute walk to get there.

The hostess was a prissy looking, deep green demon, who was not at all pleased at Mezuma’s attire but refused to say anything considering who was accompanying her.

They were brought to a booth tucked away in the back, per Nona’s request, and left alone with menus as soon as they were seated.

“I’m starved.” Mezuma announced as she scanned through the menu.

‘Order whatever you like.” Nona said as she looked through her own menu.

“Nona this place charges more then what I spend on groceries in a week for their steak.”

“I promise the offer still stands.” Nona assured her.

“You mind if I get a drink?”

“Go ahead.”

“You really know how to treat a girl.” Mezuma teased.

“You deserve nice things, Mezuma.”

“I know.” she sighed. “I have rich girl taste on a poor girl budget.”

“How may I help the both of you this evening?” Their server finally arrived.

“Can I have the steak? Well done. And an Aviation cocktail with 3 cherries?” Mezuma ordered.

“Of course. And for you miss?”

“Steak. Medium rare. And a water. Please.” Nona handed the waiter both menus and he scurried off to fill their orders.

“They don’t really like you being here.” Mezuma commented once the server was gone.

“My presence makes people uneasy if they know who I am. But the owner, Lokuwi, is the head chief here and an old friend of Oserious. He owned another restaurant that was purposely burned with him in it. I managed to save him, so now he insists on paying me back, even tho it is not necessary.”

“Nona, the killer with a heart of gold.”

“He did nothing wrong to deserve death. And if I have to opportunity to help someone, I will help them.”

The server returned carrying a tray with their drinks on it. He set the cocktail in front of Mezuma and the glass of water in front of Nona before scurrying off again. Mezume plucked one of the cherries floating in her drink and ate it off of the stem.

“So tell me, Nona.” she put the stem on the napkin under her glass. “How come I hear more of these bad things about you and not these good things?”

“It effects people more, I suppose.” Nona took a sip of her drink. “We had an incident, several years back, with a small gang Oserious was associated with, One of the members decided to steal some of the weapons his gang ordered and tried to sell them off to get more money for himself. Oserious was then blamed by friends of his for the horrid way he was treated after he was caught.”

“He stole weapons tho, that’s his fault.”

“People often don’t see fault in others close to them. His friends saw him as someone who was down on his luck and doing whatever he could to make money. I often get blamed for similar things after doing what it is that I do.”

“I mean, I kinda see where they’re coming from. But you don’t betray your gang like that. My father got killed because of that.”

“Your father was in a gang?”

“Yeah.” Mezuma sighed and ate her second cherry from her drink. “I got a lot of Uncles on my father’s side. They were all apart of this gang growing up together, it was like a right of passage on his side of the family to be in this gang. When he met my mom and they had me, we became apart of this.. almost like this huge family. It wasn’t just blood relatives, it was other gang members I was callin’ Uncle and Auntie, ya know?

“So, I grew up in this life. My dad had this buddy in the gang, they’d been friends for years. One day he comes home, sayin’ he overhead his buddy makin’ some sort of deal with a rival gang to give them a list of names from our gang in exchange for money. Even tho it was his buddy, it was for the protection of our gang that he said something to the boss man.”

“He was betraying them.”

“Yeah, all for some big cash.” Mezuma rolled her eyes. “Well, he didn’t take it well. He accused my dad of betraying him, sayin’ he wasn’t gonna give them his name or mine or my ma’s cause they’re friends. But he was about to give away the rest of the gang. And they’re family, yanno? So everything dies down a couple days after that. Until one day, his buddy shows up at our door and he..” she stopped and stared quietly at her drink.

“I’m sorry.” Nona said softly. “How old were you?”

“Eight.” Mezuma looked over at Nona. “He popped both of them in the head in front of me.” she sighed. “I was raised by my Uncles after that. They taught me how to defend myself and how to fire a gun. I don’t sleep unless I got a gun under my pillow at night.”

“You weren’t kidding when you said your life was dangerous before.”

“That’s why you don’t scare me.” Mezuma grinned and squeezed Nona’s knee with her hand. “I’ve seen way scarier things than you.”

“I can only imagine.”

Their server came back carrying a tray now with both of their plates of food. He set down the corresponding order in front of each of them and left in a hurry once again.

“So what about you? Any family?” Mezuma asked before taking a bite of her food.

“None that I know of. I woke up alone in the Wastelands and that’s about all I can remember.”

“What about Oserious?”

“I consider him an old friend more than family.”

“Mikla?”

“A tolerable annoyance.”

“What do you do for fun?”

“I... work.” Nona took a bite of her meal and sighed. “I suppose I’m not very interesting.”

“You’re plenty interestin’.” Mezuma pinched one of Nona’s cheeks. “What’s your favorite color?”

“What a strange question to ask.”

“Everyone’s got a favorite color, Nona. Mine’s pink if it weren’t obvious enough.”

“Very obvious.” Nona chuckled.

“Gold too. Pink and gold look good together.”

“I don’t have a favorite color.”

“You wear black a lot.”

“To blend in.”

“Okay.” Mezuma huffed and sat up straight, determined now. “You’re wearing black now, you tryin’ to blend in?”

“No..”

“Then why are you wearin’ it?”

“Mikla picked it out.”

“Did he pick out other outfits or just this one.”

“There were others..”

“So why this one.”

“I..” Nona glanced down at the black button up she was wearing trying to figure out why out of all the other shirts she was offered, she choose this one. “I suppose my eyes were drawn by how the gold looked on the collar.”

“Black and gold do look good together.” Mezuma smiled and rested her elbow on the table. “I think those might be your colors.”

“I suppose so.” Nona chuckled softly. “You took this very seriously.”

“Well, I don’t think you know a lot about yourself. And how can I learn more about you if you don’t even know your favorite color?”

“I didn’t know that.. interests were a desirable thing to have.”

“I bet Mikla has a bunch of interests.”

“His interests do not interest me in the slightest. He likes being around other demons.. in loud places with copious amounts of dancing.. and heavy drinking.”

“No, I couldn’t imagine you having fun at a dance club.” Mezuma laughed. “We’ll cross that off the list of possible future date ideas.”

“So.. this date is going well then?” Nona asked sheepishly.

“I’m havin’ a steak I can never afford, one of my favorite drinks, and spending uninterrupted time with you. It’s going very well.”

“I’m glad.” Nona finished off her meal and gulped down the last of her water before motioning the waiter to come over.

“You’ll walk me home?” Mezuma asked fluttering her lashes and taking another sip from her drink.

“Of course.” Nona handed the waiter a card from her pocket and he walked off again. “I wouldn’t make you walk home this late by yourself, that would be rude of me.”

“And they say chivalry is dead.” Mezuma finished off her drink and ate the last cherry from it. Nona became distracted from signing the bill when Mezuma licked cherry juice from her finger.

“Please behave.” Nona handed the bill back to the waiter and slid out of the booth.

“I’ve been on my best behavior all evening, Nona.” Mezuma took the hand offered to her and Nona helped her stand from the booth.

“You’re a menace.” Nona replied with a chuckle and guided Mezuma out of the restaurant. “You must know how difficult it is to show restraint around you.”

“I know.” Mezuma laced her fingers with Nona’s while holding her jacket close from the wind. “I had to do the same when you walked into my work. But that’s different. You should’ve been ravishing me the second we left Crimson.”

“Mezuma..” Nona got very quiet and serious looking as she leaned into the smaller woman’s space to press her lips softly against her ear and whisper, “I wont be able to stop if I put my hands on you in anyway.” Mezuma felt heat rush to her face and swallowed with an audible click in her throat.

“Oh baby please tell me you can stay at my place tonight.” Mezuma whined with a pout.

“I was waiting for you to ask.” Nona smirked and tugged their joined hands forward to continue their walk.

“Thank Gods, I thought I was going to have to beg or something.”

“Begging wont be necessary, I assure you.” she replied with a smile. “You could’ve had me two days ago but it was-”

“Complicated.” They said simultaneously. Giggling, Mezuma rested her head on Nona’s shoulder. Nona’s response was to press a kiss to the top of her head before walking them both across the street.

The remainder of the walk was silent. Not an awkward one or a forced one. It was purely the both of them just enjoying each other’s company as they continued on their journey to Mezuma’s apartment.

Once they reached their destination, Mezuma fished her keys from her purse to get them both into the building. As soon as they were up the three flights of stairs, Nona crowded Mezuma up against the wall next to the door to her apartment. Surprised, Mezuma dropped her purse and keys and stared up at Nona with wide eyes.

“Nona..” she was practically speechless, Nona was staring at her with such an intense look that it burned a fire in her stomach. Nona could almost feel Mezuma’s heart beat, she was standing so close to her. She brought a hand up to Mezuma’s face and titled her chin up to look at her properly. The pink haired demon whimpered when Nona pressed her thumb against her bottom lip, causing her to wrap her arms around the taller woman’s shoulders, bringing her down to her level and kissing her. Humming, Nona could taste the cherries on Mezuma’s tongue and greedily chased after it. They stayed in the hall, for longer than they should have, just exchanging slow kisses. It wasn’t until Nona started moving her lips along down Mezuma’s neck that she realized this would be better to do inside the apartment.

“Now you’re the one bein’ distractin’.” Mezuma pulled on Nona’s ear to get her to stop what she was doing, then gently pushed her away so she could grab her purse and keys. Nona sighed and waited patiently for Mezuma to unlock her apartment.

It was cleaned, just as Nona had promised earlier. It didn’t even look like Kozic was there last night or that he was thrown through the living room table, which happened to be replaced with a new table, not that Mezuma had to know that.

“Go make yourself at home, I gotta lock up.” Mezuma shooed Nona into her room and went back to the front door to lock it up properly. Nona glanced around Mezuma’s room, finally getting a good look at it.

There was more decoration here than at her own place. Mezuma also had more furniture besides her bed. She had two dressers, a nightstand, and a vanity littered with make-up and brushes. Deciding to take Mezuma’s advice, she removed her jacket, put it on the chair in front of the vanity, then sat on the bed to untie her shoes.

“Comfy?” when she was finished removing her shoes, she glanced up at Mezuma’s voice from the door. The smaller woman had also taken off her jacket and shoes and was standing leaning against the door frame looking very casual and smiling.

“Yes.” Nona pushed herself off of the bed and went over to Mezuma, who was anticipating her actions and welcomed her into her space for another kiss.

~~~

“I’ve never done this part before.” Nona confessed softly, sometime later. The sky was already beginning to brighten outside, casting a small glowey haze into Mezuma’s bedroom.

“What part?” Mezuma asked, rolling over onto her side to press a kiss into the other woman’s shoulder.

“Staying.” she breathed out a small chuckle.

“Ya never cuddled with the people you banged?”

“Don’t call sex that.” Nona scrunched up her nose in response.

“Sorry.” Mezuma laughed. “Did the deed then.”

“You’re awful.”

“I know.” she pressed a quick kiss to the other woman’s forehead. “Why’d you never stay?”

“I had no interest in ever knowing those people I had sex with. I was using them only for the purpose of sex, it made no sense for me to stay around after. The after part always seemed more personal and intimate to me.”

“Makes sense.” Mezuma rested her head on the same pillow Nona was using. “You ain’t leavin’ me, are you?”

“I’d like to see someone try and drag me away from you.”

“Good.” she curled up against Nona’s side and ran her fingers along Nona’s back. “Did you know you have symbols on your back?”

“Mhm.” Nona response sounded muffled from where her face was buried in the pillow.

“What do they mean?”

“We’re not sure.”

“She continues to be a woman of mystery.” Mezuma mused. “They look old.”

“I don’t think I’m that old.”

“I meant that the symbols themselves look old. I got an uncle who knows this kinda stuff. He had tons of books layin’ around.”

“What kind of books?”

“I never really understood them, they were in a language I couldn’t read. I just recognize a lot of the symbols from them.” she relaxed into the pillow with a sigh and ran her fingers up along Nona’s spine to scratch at the buzzed part of her hair. “Hi.” she said softly, looking at Nona with a smile.

“Hello.” Nona answered back with a smile of her own.

“Your horns are short again.” she cupped the back of Nona’s head and ran her thumb underneath where her horns protruded from her skull.

“I would poke a hole in your pillow if they weren’t.”

“So thoughtful of you.”

“And it makes it easier to sleep.”

“Sleep sounds amazing right now..” Mezuma quickly sat up to look around her room for one of her blankets. In the midst of their previous activities, they were all knocked off the bed. Luckily, one was in reaching distance, so she didn’t have to get up to grab it. Blanket obtained, she threw it over herself and Nona before curling up next to the other woman again.

“Amazing..” Nona whispered in awe as she carded her fingers through Mezuma’s short hair and watched her as she slowly fell asleep.

~~~

Hours later, Nona slowly woke up to her head being rubbed and it was one of the best ways she’s ever been woken up. Somehow, during the night, she ended up draping herself over Mezuma’s small body and slept on top of her. So her face was half smooshed in the other woman’s neck when she finally opened her eyes.

“What time is it?” she asked, muffled against Mezuma’s skin.

“Almost noon.”

“Mmm.” Nona cracked her shoulders and propped herself up on her elbows so she was now looking down at the smaller woman. “Am I crushing you?”

“In all the best kind of ways, yes.” Mezuma carded her fingers through Nona’s hair and brought her down to kiss her. Nona framed her face with her arms and kissed back, lazily.

“Hi.” Mezuma pulled away with a small smile.

“Hello.” Nona pressed another kiss to her mouth, then cheek.

“Your phone’s been goin’ off for the past 5 minutes.”

“Has it?” with a sigh, Nona begrudgingly rolled over onto her back and sat up. At some point, she had lost her hair tie, so her long hair was strewn about everywhere. Standing up, she ran her hands through her hair, and gathering it up so it was cascading down her bare back, and not getting tangled in the sheets.

“You have freckles on your butt too.”

“Thank you, Mezuma.” Nona chuckled and picked up her discarded undershorts and slipped them on. A quick search around the room, Nona located her pants and pulled her phone from the pocket of them. “Mikla.” she mumbled, looking at her phone screen.

“Duty calls?”

“Unfortunately yes..” Nona sighed and stepped into her pants.

“Why so glum?”

“This was what I was afraid of when I wanted to pursue you.”

“Do you see me complaining?”

“Not now, but you must admit, later this will be an inconvenience.”

“Life wasn’t meant to be convenient.” Mezuma hopped out of her bed, put on a large shirt she had folded on her dresser, and picked up Nona’s shirt from the floor. “At the end of the day, it’s you I wanna be sleepin’ next to.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

“Then don’t worry about it.” she handed the shirt to Nona and quickly kissed her. “We’ll make it work.”

“You make this terribly easy.”

“I’ve been in enough relationships to know what not to do and you’re a lot smarter than most of the people I’ve dated.” the smaller woman wrapped her arms around Nona’s waist and tucked her hands into the other woman’s back pockets. “Cuter too.”

“I am not cute.” Nona protested as she buttoned up her shirt. “And you’re distracting me again.”

“Can’t a girl get one more kiss before you leave me?”

“I’ll be back.” she promised with a kiss.

“Tonight?”

“Yes, tonight.”

“Promise?”

“Have I lied to you yet, Mezuma?”

“Just makin’ sure.”

“I’ll be here tonight.” Nona wrapped her arms tightly around Mezuma and lifted her up into a hug.

“Good.” Mezuma laughed when she was gently set down on her bed. “Is Mikla picking you up then?”

“He’s already at my place.” Nona typed quickly on her phone. “It would be easier to summon me. Plus I would like to change my shirt.” she sighed again. “He’s going to have a field day with this.”

“You’re doing everythin’ in your power not to have us meet.”

“I am trying to prolong it yes. But it is inevitable, I suppose. You both are very important people in my life.”

“Aw, Mikla is important to you.”

“He’s my partner and Oserious’s nephew, I feel a responsibility to him.”

“I think you two are friends, you just have a weird problem admittin’ it.”

“I don’t have a problem.”

“You do. And it’s cute you don’t think you’re friends, when you clearly.are.”

“I am not cute.”

“You are.” Mezuma laughed again and grabbed Nona’s face to kiss her. “I’m honored I’m up there with being one of the most important people in your life.”

“You are.” Nonas looked at her phone when it beeped again and she stepped back from Mezuma to create space between them. “I’ll see you tonight.” a cloud of smoke erupted, engulfing her in the middle of Mezuma’s room. When the smoke cleared, Nona was nowhere to be seen.

#wastelands #nona #mezuma #original writing

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