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empressxmachina · 2 years ago

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(Also, on Wattpad.)

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

That was the only phrase that Madi and Jake could say as, at last, they left the Nash University locker room. Well, Jake left, and Madi went with him. So, the titanic tight end found himself running through the endless corridors of the Knights’ crown jewel as the ways they came in were no longer accessible, either locked for the night or occupied by someone meant to be there. Meanwhile, Madi sat tight, somewhat literally, by his front side in the most oversized sleeping bag known to man, tucked away in the stage-right corner, thanking God that she wasn’t jostling or vacuum-sealed right by his junk a wall away.

It was quite a conundrum for both of them.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” Jake hissed halfheartedly through his teeth, verbiage unfazed by the impromptu sprint session.

Zooming through the air and pounding the floor as he ran, he didn’t know if Madi had heard him through her fabric enclosures. To be fair, though, he wasn’t trying to be heard, either, with all the security guards and Nash officials lurking around. But with Madi being visually unnoticeable to everyone under two layers of fabric and currently physically unnoticeable, despite being only disconnected by one from Jake, he couldn’t help but wonder if their hearing was one sense that could carry between them still.

He didn’t have to ponder for too long with a near-instant response, sent through the airwaves with a ding and vibration into one of his tensed fists.

{I didn’t make you do shit.} Madi messaged, using her available way of hidden communication to her advantage, before adding, {What kind of man would you be, taking orders from a two-inch-tall girl?}

Encased in cotton and embraced by flurries of fear and bittersweet scents and sensations, Madi could only wallow in her own thoughts, hypothesizing her new place in the world, and there was so much that she had already learned.

First off, she was tiny. While she clearly already knew that, even rounding up the truth in her text, her scientific nature had her internally cringing at not being able to quantitatively verify her height… or lack thereof. The average person could’ve used marks across their bodies to signify various lengths like those of days before. Jake’s overgrowth in nearly all regards made it impossible to base herself solely on that against anything like a fingerpad. But her knowledge of his wooden sword – now a whole tree trunk – and how it behaved gave her a good amount of information to work with, giving her confidence in her assertion just by eyeballing the colossal curvature further shadowing her already barely lit view.

Secondly, bodies were weirder than she had ever imagined. Inside the underpants’ pocket, where the only light around came from either Madi’s phone in her lap, whichever light rays peeked through the underwear’s weavings to Jake’s front, or the few diffused glows from above that managed to reach her from outside his pullover’s collar, past his hills of a chest and abs, and through the sliver of a zipper opening to let air circulate, there was no escape from Jake’s essence. His natural body heat, already enhanced from running, exponentially increased the warmth held within the fabric.

Was that because she was cooler now at her cup-sized state or because he was overheating due to her position next to him?

All the while, the variant pulsating from him – respiratory breaths, vascular flows, and the hellscape Jake’s hormones indeed were – shook the inner wall of the coital cave, enhancing how she was nestled by a living being rather than a typical vehicle she was used to or even an amusement park ride like how it felt to her. To experience what all used to be subconscious, visceral automation at such a magnification was impossible to put into words, and she prayed Jake wouldn’t ask whenever she got out.

If she got out.

However, above all, what sent Madi into a tizzy was how her protector was responsive to her existence despite being so distant in length. Her self-antagonizing quip that had sent soft chuckles out his mouth had also dropped quakes paired with them from his diaphragm down to her. If the inward pull from Jake’s abdomen sinking in as he expelled air wasn’t enough of a shake-up, then the twitching of her next-door neighbor that simultaneously pushed its portion of the wall out – a characteristic that Madi never noticed at full size and couldn’t miss now – was. The one-two punch Jake inadvertently brought thankfully wasn’t physically disorienting, mostly from any convex expansion being settled in front of her as she sat along a seam, but to think how she may have been affected by any more direct contact with it – him – sent her mind spinning.

Madi’s presence alone had Jake popping, maybe even for years, under her nose, and she didn’t even have to tease any ass or titties or touch him.

“You’re quite the marvel, Madeline,” Jake charmed, reading Madi’s mind as if she didn’t know better about him referring to her text. But he couldn’t sense her off-the-wall vibes. Right? “How in the world can you still have a sense of humor like that? Like this?”

Jake smiled for a second as he locked and lowered his phone out of sight, soon neutralizing and refocusing on finding the parking lot. The calmness in his voice drastically contrasted with his attitude in the locker room. His emotional and physical shakiness when transferring Madi’s near-nothingness into his pants was unforgettable. Those chocolate, doe eyes of his were just too big and soft not to melt into, looking for an assurance of security. The crescendo of heartbeats as she descended atop his palm from chest to waist level was unmissable. But the calls the cloth cavern sang as Jake pulled it open for her arrival were the loudest. The only sense of tranquility the handover had was how Jake lowered and let her slide in rather than dropping her or making her jump in on her own, despite her relative indifference at the time.

Whereas Jake gave his apologies with a sad face before sealing her in air-permeable darkness and heading out, Madi simply felt that anything else would’ve been so much worse.

“I know he gets into the zone on the field,” Madi wondered, considering Jake’s compounding compassion against his hard shell cover. “He sure got there tonight for the win and, uh, elsewhere, but I swear I’d be falling apart even more right now if the roles were reversed. Maybe that’s just me. I don’t know. Do they even make panties with pockets for girls?”

Before she could muse about sewing patterns and how she’d deal with a tiny soul, a change in momentum and inertia suddenly sent her flying face-first into the frontal side of the pocket’s fabric, then falling back into a folded and flipped position on contact with the fibers. As she tried to push herself back to a linear form, spitting flecks of loose fuzz off her tongue, she waited for a literal helping hand of God to right her back into position.

But none came. No further movement did, either. Nothing was happening.

As far as Madi could tell, Jake had pulled a juke or pivot perfectly for a lateral that sent her into a baseless back tuck basket toss that could’ve concussed her if there wasn’t padding, and he wasn’t doing anything about it. But, unlike she had just had, that wouldn’t fly, and Madi wasted no time telling him how he should’ve been taking better heed of his fragile carry-on.

She had been knocked loose but not her phone from her grasp.

{WTF J?} a somewhat muffled notification chirping outside her amorphous hamster ball signaled, followed by the click of an unlocking screen hovering above and beyond her. {You can’t just do shit like that without warning a girl. Fuck.}

Rather than an expected verbal reply, Madi heard the pitter-patters of screen tapping that popped into a new bubble seconds later. {You’re not hurt, are you?}

Madi didn’t think Jake was unintelligent, but a grammar-perfect text reply looking like something she’d send was the last thing she expected, especially with the sudden movement just moments prior. Usually, there would be a ‘flaw’ somewhere – a missing punctuation mark, a misspelling, some sort of chronically online speak, or something – but this was a text good enough for a grandma, which was weird. The showing of concern with it, though, was appreciated.

{No.} she answered back as hastily. {Just tossed like pizza dough, but I’ll live.}

The resulting chuckling brought her a bit of pleasure in her wilted position, even if their complementary trembles on all sides made getting back upright a bit more complicated. Once decent, though, she cut the nuances and made her curiosity known. {What’s wrong?}

They both had stopped moving, but Jake wasn’t sitting. He would be if he were back on the bus with his stuff and the rest of the team, right?

Instead of more textual tapping to reply, Madi was left on ‘Read’ in silence: relative silence. Without the addition of electronic noises and the screeches of rubber on polished tiles to wood to carpet and back that had become A.S.M.R. in their traveling, she soon realized that Jake and indirectly her, too, were graced by the night and all of the nature it brought, except for one thing: one set of things.

In the distance, the rumbles and murmurs from what could’ve only been, if she remembered the usual convoy correctly, three charter buses, an equipment transport truck, and whoever was around or in them.

They were at the X on their treasure map, but Jake wasn’t digging for the chest without explaining why… until he did.

{Coach Curt is out here} Jake broke the lull, catching Madi off-guard with a jump.

{Coach Curtis?} she presumed, looking past his reversion to imperfection to assess the situation.

While the sports teams and the cheerleaders were like peanut butter and jelly, Madi didn’t feel close or worthy enough to give such a prominent university figure such a familiar name, even with the secrecy of text messaging. He was the Russell Curtis, a king’s king of Kingston, but his players could have some informality and comfort with him, at least in reference, if not right in his face. Yet, there was a detectable tinge of panic in Jake’s words, or Madi was projecting hers onto them.

{Why would he be a problem for you?} she tried. Getting nothing immediately, she guessed it had to be tied to her and half-jokingly probed, {It’s not like y’all cavity search, right?} Still left in the dark with not even an upheaving gasp to show his acknowledgment, Madi went for the gut she sat aside, being blunt about it. {Did you fuck up or something?}

With more hush, Madi accepted it as a problematic ‘Yes.’ However, Jake practically verified it through a waterpark’s worth of reply bubbles.

{Kinda} … {Maybe} … {Idk} Jake stood with the tips of his hair billowing in the slight evening breeze, statuesque yet tense from head to toe, frozen to keep from imploding from inner pressure that he hoped Madi couldn’t physically feel. {ngl I gave a pretty bs excuse to come find you} … {and I’m realizing ill have to deal with it}

{Oh, come on, dude.} Madi commented without sympathy, rolling her eyes at the thought. {If you gave a shitty excuse to get here, you can give a better one to get back.}

{Debatable}

{Not if you’re careful.} Madi had faith that Jake was exaggerating his worries, and she figured she could get him moving again through a spurt of confidence… or gaslighting: whichever worked. {You promised you’d protect me, remember?}

While he couldn’t actually feel it – something went terribly wrong if he could – Jake felt as if Madi was flirtatiously fluttering her eyelashes at him with one of those devilish grins of hers that screamed, ‘You know I’m right.’ However, he pushed it aside, rather than disputing her claim or verifying it with a pants peek that would’ve proved it accurate, going forward with an outwardly normal gait, knowing that he would have to do what she (and he) said to get back without more controversy.

Coach Curt, meanwhile, combating the evening sky in and out of his all-black garb, was only visible from the illumination of head-sized headlights. He also appeared to be on a phone call, turned away from Jake and the school building entirely. Could Jake get by him without being detected? Having ninja stealth and speed were qualities he played on the field that practically ran through his veins. Some players even teased Jake in the past about it, claiming it as a literal quality by blood before getting got by him right after every time.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t being watched where he was, even by the unsuspected coach.

Was Jake truly safe from interrogation upon entry? Nash cameras were on him, the bus cameras were on him, Madi – the reason and a witness, herself – was literally on him, and who was to say how many Royals weren’t already watching him through the windows? It wouldn’t have taken long for Jake’s forged rationale to spread in their packed-full tin can of a bus and wade over to the other two, so running through would’ve only increased suspicion.

And so he walked.

Across the concrete, he strode calmly yet quickly, not garnering any looks from anyone on or off the buses as far as he could tell. However, he did wonder if having his phone out in the open like a weirdo would spout any drama. Indeed, a bunch of young adults high on adrenaline and totally nothing else that’d make every moment a fit check or dick-measuring contest, if they could, wouldn’t be so petty. But, wanting to be an accommodating host to his hidden heroine and not risk her being emulsified at a false move by repacking his phone away, Jake would have to figure that out if the time came.

With the bus steps getting closer and closer in his sights, Jake felt confident that he was in the clear, only needing to snake past any nonsensicalities that his team members would send his way or unknowingly to Madi’s. Just a handful of stairs and a couple of aisles, and all was–

“Averill!”

***

Yeah, yeah, I know it's been a year. May I remind you I have over ten universes I'm constantly pondering about? And a job? And other IRL shit to do? Fuck a schedule. I'm writing, though, so that's a win. The audacity of me to post the faves in AAPI month and as the 10th anniversary of me being on the hell-site that is DeviantArt approaches, lmao. That wasn't planned, but sometimes things just work out. 😊 Check out the gallery for Sideline on DA! Or, click the tag of the same name here or in my profile! << first | previous | next (TBC) >>

#g/t #my writing #sideline #sw #giant male #the long journey begins >:)

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