tryskomys

[tryskomys]

IS THERE GONNA BE A HAPPY ENDING FOR WET SAND PLEASEE

oh, sweetheart ;_; those dorks have a long and winding way in front of them. however, the most twisted roads tend to lead to the sweetest destinations <3 (tldr; i don’t wanna spoil anything. but i’m just a romantic little sucker at heart, i have no idea how to write sad endings) tysm for reading!!

[tryskomys]

Wet Sand

Stone Gossard x OC

Chapter 17 - Beth

Summary: i wish i could back in time.

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

notes: so, uh, this took a turn. it’s about 2k words longer than i planned but hey, happy accidents.

as a straight woman, writing out a bisexual man’s thoughts on bisexuality is definitely a challenge, but I chose to tackle it for that very reason. hopefully it will be with some semblance of grace.

i think it’s probably the hottest thing i’ve ever written in my lenghty fanfic career, even though it has no actual sex in it. an extremely subjective opinion, may i add. hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

tws: mentions of underage drug use - terrible childhood. as i said, it has no sex in it, but it’s heavily mentioned. ‘caretaking when ill’ trope. kinda fluffy, depending on your definition. palpable tension in the air - so dense i can chew on it.

song: (i especially love this version!)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

A loud, hooting sound of nose blowing echoed through the empty brick walls, followed by a nasal groan. Keeva wrapped her blanket tighter around herself, shivering when it dragged over her hurting skin.

Out of all possible weeks in the year, a brutal influenza took her down right before they were supposed to depart.

The self-imposed quarantine she proposed was met with a lot of backlash from the guys, but in the end, they all agreed that it was better to have one band member out for a couple of days instead of six.

And so they all reluctantly flew out, leaving her behind to rest and join them as soon as she healed up.

“No fucking way, I’m not leaving you here,” Stone interrupted Keeva before she even finished saying it out loud.

“Stoney, I’m a big girl,” she said while snuggling deeper into his blanket - he insisted that she stay in his bed so he wouldn't have to run up the stairs every time she needed medicine. “I can manage a few days on my own. We can’t afford to lose a week or two, we’re already behind.”

“I don’t care!” he threw his arms around. “Polygram can suck my dick, you have a fever and you’re coughing up blood, I can’t just fly away and leave you fainting here.”

“I’m not coughing up blood, you goose,” she snorted and immediately broke into a coughing fit.

“I’ll tell them that blood is gushing out of your ears if it makes them shut up,” he shot back, aggressively squeezing a whole lemon into the big cup of tea he’d prepared for her. “I’m a fantastic liar.”

“Stoney, you need to go.”

He just stared at her for a few seconds before groaning and childishly punching the kitchen counter.

“I’ll call you twice a day to check the temperature and if you’re not okay by next Friday, I’m coming home.”

Staying in Stone’s bed felt strange. It wasn’t like she hadn’t done it before, but now that he was gone, the thrill of him finding her there was out of the picture. She never wanted to be caught, but when she was, his nonchalance about it was comforting.

But now, he wasn’t there to come home from work and throw her an enigmatic smile. That was why she migrated back to her room as soon as he left.

Fucking hell, it’s been just ten days, why am I so dramatic?!

Keeva felt like her husband had gone to war and hadn’t come back for years. Even though he called her daily like a worried mama bear, his absence was overwhelming.

They’d never been apart for more than a couple of days and this only assured her that she had no interest in staying apart. She prayed that he was feeling the same even though it was cruel, because she felt like shit.

Not only because he was gone, but she hadn’t been this sick since high school. All her sinuses were stabbing from the inside, her head felt like a crushed watermelon and her throat was on fire from all the gaggling coughs. And the fever set her bones on fire.

The ringing phone was like a razor on her eardrums, ripping her out of the haze she had been in since she woke up. She couldn’t decide if she was excited to hear his voice or annoyed that she had to talk to him for the third time that day.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming. Jesus,” she groaned, shaking her head when the phone kept on urgently ringing as if she wasn’t moving fast enough.

“Hello, Gossard-Andrews mansion,” she croaked when she picked up.

“What’s up, Baby?” Stone's voice cheered from the other side, making her twitch and move the phone further away from her ear. “Fuck, I woke you up, didn’t I?��

“Hey, beanpole. No, no, you didn’t,” Keeva sighed as she sat down on the carpet next to the tea table with a cup of scorching tea. “Been up for some time, it’s midnight.”

“Christ, you sound terrible. How’s the fever?”

“Better now, about 102. Evening was worse, I almost fell down my stairs because I was dizzy as fuck,” she chuckled, but immediately cringed when Stone reacted - well, he didn’t react at first. But the silence was more stern than if he spoke.

“Pray tell, why are you not in my bed? Move there. Now,” he said after a long pause and she could see his cold expression in her head as clearly as if he was standing right in front of her. She uncomfortably scoffed.

“Woah, take me out to dinner first. I swear I’m a lot bet-”

“That wasn’t a question, Keeva,” he interrupted her without skipping a beat. She was so used to him using stupid nicknames that her actual name sounded alien from his lips. “You better shuffle over there so fast I can hear your bunny slippers against the floor. The phone cord can reach there.”

“Jesus, fine, fine,” she whispered with a heavy huff as she braced against the table to get off the floor. “I’m shuffling, see?”

“Good, snuggle up,” Stone said, still strict. “I will know if you don’t, so move -”

“Chill out, pretty boy, or you’ll get wrinkles,” she rolled her eyes as she dropped onto his bed, her blocked joints cracking as it bounced. “I’m already here.”

They were both silent for a moment. Keeva felt her cheeks flood with red and she wasn’t sure if her temperature was rising from the sickness or from that unwashable scent of his.

“Hm. S’nice. Still warm,” she mumbled without thinking. Her brain was too fried to bother with any kind of logic. “Feels like you’re here, too.”

Stone's child-like giggle only made her sink deeper as she flipped on her stomach and buried her face in his pillow.

“You sure the fever’s down?” he said, finally softening his tone. Keeva shrugged and hummed into the fabric.

“Don’t know,” she said, her muffled voice barely audible. “Might be just your sheets talking.”

He took another long pause and for a moment she gained full consciousness again - she just heard his shaky sigh and once again, she could imagine him.

Lying on his back in some soulless rented room, staring at the ceiling light above him, twirling the phone cord around his index finger with an empty expression. His voice was a bit more amused than she would’ve expected as a breathy scoff echoed from the other side.

“I should record this and play it back to you once you’re lucid,” he said and a loud crunch followed as he probably took a bite of crispy apple. The chewing noises made her slightly nauseous.

“That’s not a good idea,” she chuckled, finally lifted her face off the pillow and rolled on her back again. “Whatcha doing?”

"Eating an apple and chewing as loud as I can because you wrinkle your nose really cute when you’re disgusted,” he nonchalantly sighed and took another bite, continuing with his mouth full. “You look like a little bunny, it’s great.”

“Ew. You can't even see me right now, asshole,” Keeva frowned.

“Oh, I can. In my head, you know. Bet you’re frowning, too,” he said and Keeva raised her eyebrows as she rubbed her tired eyes. Stone hummed. “Probably reaching up to your face to rub your eye and cringing because an eyelash fell into it. And you were sniffing my bedsheets, freak, I can tell.”

Keeva’s cheeks heated up even more as she held her hand in the air, wondering if this was just a cryptic fever dream. When she didn’t reply, Stone cackled and cleared his throat from the apple pulp.

“I’m kidding. Even you are not that weird.”

“Shine your crystal ball, that’s exactly what I was doing. Shine both of them while you’re at it,” she said after dragging the blanket over her head as if she wanted to hide from his scrying eye. “Speaking of recording, how is it going?”

“Yeah, great,” Stone sighed, clearly dishonest. “Slow without you, but great. The kids for Stardog are scheduled for next Thursday. Roller is almost finished, we just need your overdubs, so there’s that. And, uh -”

“Slow without me?” Keeva widely grinned, soundlessly kicking her feet in the air in a giddy fit. “Aren’t you always pissy because I take too long to set up?”

“Yeah, but when you’re not here, I lose the comparison,” Stone chuckled. “So suddenly everyone seems slow.”

“Are you saying that you miss my pedal tinkering?” she squinted, peeking out of the blanket to take a ragged breath.

“I do, we all miss you,” he said and paused. His silence wasn’t frigid this time. In fact, it warmed her to the point of shivers, as did his next carefully chosen words. “I miss you.”

Now she was sure her fever came back, the chills that ran over her skin were painful. And her voice was as shaky as her body.

“Miss you, too.”

She couldn't bear the silence, her heartbeat was pounding so loud she thought her eyes were going to pop.

“I really should be ready next week. Once the temperature settles and I stop coughing like a plagued Victorian child, I’m good to go,” she croaked. “Soundgarden is in town, by the way. Kim stopped by yesterday with some soup. Chicken and noodles. Loads of veggies, a bit spicy. It was really good, first proper meal in a week. All the crackers and black tea are leaking out of my ears.”

“That’s really great. I’ll send him a little fruit basket,” Stone whispered and she could tell his voice was giving up as he tried to keep himself awake. She softly smiled.

“Get some sleep, Stoney. I’ll call tomorrow.”

“Not until you sleep,” he mumbled, a rustle of bedsheets accompanying his exhausted sigh.

“We could be here for a long time, then,” she chuckled. “I’ll hang up now and we’ll talk first thing when we wake up.”

“No, don’t hang up, Baby.”

The nickname almost lacked the mocking element when spoken in a tired, airy voice. As if he was whispering it in her ear in the early morning, like a smitten lover.

“Alright, Stoney,” she whispered, too, in an attempt to charm him enough that she’d haunt his dreams. “What do we do, then?”

“Can we stay on the phone? Just put it down next to you and have a nap. I haven’t slept properly in days.”

“You?” Keeva scoffed. “You’d fall asleep standing up if you could.”

“Not anymore,” Stone hummed. “Nowadays I can’t fall asleep if I don’t listen to your breathing.”

He certainly wasn’t helping to cool down her flaming forehead, but the heat felt delightful. His huffs gained a steady rhythm and sleep suddenly didn’t seem so beyond her reach.

“You’ll make me blush.”

“I know. I can see you,” Stone breathed out, barely half-awake. “Red as a beet and hiding under my blanket. Your lashes are probably fluttering because you can’t keep your eyes open anymore. Hair is falling in your face but you can’t be bothered to tuck them away. You’re tugging your t-shirt down right now because it shuffled all the way to your neck when you shifted and you don’t wanna be looked at, even though you’re home alone.”

Keeva was too exhausted to answer.

“Goodnight, lover,” he lazily crooned. “I hope you dream of me.”

She couldn’t tell if he actually said it or if she was already in deep sleep, but it didn’t matter to her. It felt real enough to soothe her pounding head.

● ● ● ● ● ●

She despised flying, but damn, was it worth it this time. After being shut at home for two weeks straight, being around the guys again was so heartwarming.

She was still very weak, but the atmosphere breathed life into her. Bruce picked her up with their rented car, blinding her with a huge smile when she noticed him at the airport - it wasn’t that hard, he was towering over the crowd.

And when they arrived at the shared apartment, the guys welcomed her with a huge takeout pizza feast and a pint of ice cream to celebrate her throat being healed. Stone frowned upon that in a motherly fashion and immediately took it away from her so she wouldn’t get sick again.

He was the one who greeted her with the biggest hug - the most bone-crushing one he’d ever given her, lifting her off her feet and spinning around so fast her ears were ringing.

Hours into the night after everyone finally shuffled to their beds stuffed and drunk, one of the rooms still kept the lights on.

The single lamp in the corner emanated a dim warm glow, similar to the sun right before it disappears behind the horizon.

Keeva was lying in Stone’s bed, her legs leaning up against the wall as she read through the itinerary Jeff painstakingly created.

What a nerd.

“Okay, I’m officially bored,” Stone said into the comfortable silence as he breathed out a circle of dense hash smoke. It didn’t take long to carry over to her as he was lying down next to her, his legs unceremoniously spread across the bed. “How about we play some Truth or Dare?”

She snorted.

“Are you fucking thirteen?” she shook her head when she looked at him. His absent stare made her giggle. “I’m not going to ‘dare’ anything, if you wanna ask something, do it like a grown-up.”

“Okay, okay,” Stone shrugged and lifted his arms in surrender. “Goddamn, tone it down a notch, mother.”

He took a moment to think and then looked away, chewing on his lip.

“Have you ever taken anything?”

Andy’s struggles were weighing on his mind like a dumbbell, she knew that. They suspected that he started using again, even though he was very good at hiding it. At least he thought he was, but they could both read their friend like an open book. Perhaps that was why Stone smoked so much lately, yearning for any kind of relaxation for his rigid muscles.

Perhaps that was the root of his question - does the Virgin Mary ever sin?

Keeva couldn’t deny him the honesty, no matter how painful it was.

“Remember how I told you and Mike about that Ace card?” she said, keeping her voice strong and steady while pretending to read through the itinerary. “Crying in Hyde Park because I couldn’t get it?”

He soundlessly nodded.

“I stole some smack from my parents and shot up before I went there,” she near-whispered with a sour, joyless scoff. “Christ, I was so fucking sick and scared that I can’t even begin to try and explain the feeling. I never touched that stuff again.”

She didn’t catch his reaction when she looked at him, because he shifted to lay on his stomach and buried his face deep into the pillow before she even turned her head.

Keeva didn’t know what he was doing, but it seemed like he trying to hold his breath. She had no idea what to say and he clearly didn’t know, either. There wasn’t any room next to him, so she couldn’t join him in suffocating.

Instead, she put away Jeff’s neat brochure and reached out.

As soon as her fingertips disappeared into Stone’s waves, he let out a strained exhale, his shoulders slumping. She slid her legs down and lied down next to him, resting her head on his back. His pulse sounded like heavy rain beating down on the windowsill. As if his heart was crying.

She couldn’t resist.

“Can I braid your hair?” she whispered after a while of listening, pressing a chaste kiss on his shoulder. He nodded and dragged his face across the pillow before he slowly lifted himself off the mattress, keeping his back to her. She sat up, too.

The bed was obscured by a shadow of the closet next to it, but she could see he left behind a couple of wet stains on the blank pillow sheet.

Keeva knew better than to comment on it, no matter how deeply it stabbed her chest. She just ran her fingers through his hair again in a lacklustre attempt to loosen the knots. Stone sighed again - like he always did when she happened to brush against his scalp.

She never figured out why he had such a strong reaction to it, but it drove her insane. An ever-present crack in the marble statue - just a single specific touch away from making it crumble.

She tried to ignore his ragged breath as she carefully divided the long strands into three parts, trying to be as soft as her trembling hands allowed her.

“Your turn,” he mumbled, keeping his words low and monotone. She admired his ability to sound so collected in any situation, even though he clearly wasn’t.

It always inspired her to be bold.

“Why do you like it when I touch your hair so much?”

He chuckled and she was thankful he wasn’t facing her, because her blush would be glowing even in this lighting - she admired how he managed to strip her down of any confidence with a single move, too, as angering as it was.

“Why do you like it when I touch your neck so much?”

“Fair,” Keeva whispered and softly cursed under her breath when she messed up the braid. She loosened it and started again, earning another content hum. She wanted to cheer up the mood a bit, so she tugged on one of the strands. “I knew a guy in high school who apparently demanded that girls nibble his ears.”

Stone hissed and reached behind him to slap her bare thigh. She yelped - he left behind a red handprint on her pale skin, she must’ve put a bit too much strength into her yank.

Why the fuck am I wearing pyjama shorts in front of him?! I’m definitely getting too comfortable.

“Reminds me of this one dude, he was pretty funny,” Stone snickered and took a puff of the spliff he put down on the ashtray earlier. “I think he moved away to uni, but he was quite a frequent at Green River gigs back then. He used this weird red toothpaste and always had some on his t-shirt. And then, when I took his pants off one time, I saw that had a smudge of it on his ballsack, too, which I couldn’t wrap my head around. Like, how do you get toothpaste on your -”

Wait.

“Woah, woah, woah, stop everything for a minute, mate,” she immediately let his hair go with wide eyes and snaked around him to sit right in front of him.

The bed was so small she almost ended up in his lap by accident, but she didn’t give a damn at that moment.

Stone just carelessly shrugged as they stared at each other - his pupils were blown wide and his eyes were a bit red, but otherwise, he seemed as sober as always. When she shuffled a bit closer with a huge, unbelieving smile, he shrugged again.

What?!

“You’ve slept with a guy before?!” Keeva loudly whispered and reached up to shake his shoulder so he’d show any stronger emotion than coolness. But Stone just laughed, clearly amused by her shock.

“Yeah!” he shook her hand off and then, in a surprisingly quick move, he grabbed her hips and whipped her around. He tightly wrapped his arms around her waist, dragging them both down on the mattress. It loudly creaked when they fell on it, bouncing them up and down for a few seconds. “A couple of them, actually.”

Keeva rapidly slapped his forearm a few times and without a second thought, she took the spliff from him and took a big hit.

Shit, I’ll have what he’s having.

“Holy fuck,” she coughed out and threw it into the ashtray. “Why am I just finding out?”

“You never asked!” he chuckled and dragged her up onto him, squeezing her closer as if she was a rag doll. His hipbone was digging into her lower back, but it was comfortable nonetheless.

Fuck. I never asked.

“Well, I didn’t - I just - is that like a new thing, or?” she stuttered out, partly because he was squeezing her so hard, but mostly because she was baffled.

She felt his light stubble tickle the nape of her neck as he shook his head - she wasn’t used to it. It made him look more tired, but equally more irresistable.

“Nah. You know, after the Mormon I suddenly understood that maybe not all girls are as great as I thought. And being single, I started realizing that some guys are pretty attractive, too,” he shrugged, shifting her from side to side like a plushie. “I mean, I still liked girls better, but I also tried a few different things and found out that it was actually quite enjoyable.”

Keeva grabbed his arm with a gasp when she nearly slid off him, but he did it on purpose just to catch her before she fell from the bed, doing continuous ‘wee’ sounds as he steered her left and right.

This time, something about his nonchalance felt almost performative - if she didn’t know him, she wouldn’t be able to tell. But his heart was wildly beating against his ribcage and because he was holding her as tightly as he could, it was beating against her ribcage, too.

“It was mostly an adolescent indulgence, though, I think I’m straying further away the older I get,” Stone chuckled and finally stopped throwing her around. “Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I had no idea it would spark such a warm reaction from you.”

Keeva vehemently shook her head.

“Don’t apologize at all! I should’ve asked,” she assured him, squeezing his arm before looking up at him in awe. “I’m just - wait, were you giving?”

He snorted.

“‘Course I was,” he said as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. She tutted, elbowing his stomach. He let out a theatrical yelp and laughed, a lot more relaxed than before.

“So, uh, you always, like, liked being - you know…”

Jesus fucking Christ, how old are you?! This smartass is the only person on Earth who has seen you naked, are you gonna blush every time you talk about sex forever?

“What?” he questioned with an amused grin, clearly waiting for her to say it out loud.

“Like, the one that -” she stuttered and then uncomfortably wiggled in his grasp. “Fuck, that’s a stupid question, of course you like being in charge, you egomaniac.”

Stone laughed again.

“You’ve slept with me multiple times, Baby, that’s more than most people can say,” he reached up to flick her nose. “By now you should know how I operate like the back of your hand. Pretty sure it’s a vanity thing.”

“Well, and how was it?!” Keeva excitedly slapped his arm again and tried to turn around to face him, but he held her in place and started rocking her left and right again.

“Meh,” he shrugged. “Not bad. I had a good time, don’t get me wrong, but nothing that memorable, either. I mean, that can be said about most people I’ve been with, to be honest. Sometimes I think that I enjoy the lead-up more than the actual sex.”

Ouch.

Keeva held her pride back and didn’t comment on his words, because Stone seemed like he had more to say. And she wanted nothing more than to hear him out.

“The first time was great, though. Like, really great,” he said and she felt as if he was moving her like a little boat, softening his grasp until his arms were loose. “It was kinda like a rebirth, you know, I think it took away a lot of the pent-up shame I had from letting my girlfriend bounce on any lap she wanted.”

He bitterly scoffed and continued.

“A bit ironic, but I was never ashamed of it, which is a blessing. I know a myriad of people who are eaten up by the mere thought of enjoying sex with men, especially in today’s climate.”

Keeva’s heart was flooded with sweet pain. She wasn’t be able to imagine such a feeling no matter how hard she tried and that saddened her - she had no way to relate to him in that way. But she couldn’t feel any more euphoric that he was being so open with her.

“Who was he?” she asked, slightly shivering when Stone ran his fingers across the bare skin that peeked out of her crumpled t-shirt - it rose all the way up to the sides of her breasts, thanks to his volatile movements earlier. She hadn’t even noticed until now.

“A guy I knew from Northwest,” he sighed and paused for a moment, mindlessly drawing circles around her abdomen. “Bit of a know-it-all, but he somehow managed to make it cute. Kinda short. The blondest person I’ve ever met, plus he had really curly hair so he kinda looked like a little cherub. I mean, apart from the nose rings.”

Stone’s voice sounded murky, almost echoing as if he were speaking from the depths of a cave.

She felt consumed by a memory she’d never lived.

“We didn’t plan it, we were just roaming around bars the whole evening and then went to his place in Belltown. He still lived with his parents, but they were on vacation. It was deep in July, probably 95 degrees outside, 105 inside. But we were both a bit drunk, so we didn’t care,” he chuckled and let out a long, deep, distant exhale. “There was an opened window right above his bed. He wanted to close it, but I didn’t. God, I was such a stupid cunt back then. I remember hoping that the neighbours would see us. Told him to scream as loud as he wanted.”

He was making the bashful redness in her face worse with every word he uttered - it was growing so intense that she worried it would make a permanent mark. Her heart was stuck in the middle of her throat, suffocating her with every beat.

And she knew that Stone was doing it on purpose. She could feel it through his wandering fingertips.

“They had a cherry blossom tree in the backyard and the hot wind carried a few petals inside. They fell on my shoulders, it really tickled. I thought it was just sweat running down my neck, but then one of them fell next to me. Never seen that shade of pink before or since then. Just that single petal and your cheeks.”

His shallow breathing sent a shiver down her spine.

“Jesus, I came so hard I stopped breathing for a few seconds,” he said, his voice as silent as it could be without whispering. “It was pretty cathartic. We went for another beer afterwards and concluded that it wasn’t the preferred way for either of us, but, you know. Preference doesn’t erase the fact that it felt amazing. He was the last person I kissed, too.”

The silence that filled the room weighted them further and further into the bedsheets, so heavy that Keeva thought they would soon push through the mattress.

“So I did it again a few times after that and it was fine, but never like that first one,” he shifted in his place and held her tighter again as if he, too, was worried that they would fall through. “It’s been like two or three years since the last time and I don’t have much interest in doing it again any time soon.”

There were no words to describe the feeling that clouded her brain. Like breathing in a heavy fog, the kind you cannot see through.

She now knew why they never spoke to each other like this.

Simple unadulterated self-preservation.

Friends aren’t this honest. Only lovers.

“So, like, nothing since then?” she asked - her voice came out as a barely audible peep.

Stone chuckled, shuffling her upwards - her head fell back over his shoulder. He nuzzled the skin under her ear.

“‘Kay, I’ve gotten head in a bar a few times.”

Her eyes shut closed.

How the fuck did I not notice?!

She felt so fucking conceited it made her sick. She lived in the same room and she never even bothered to read between the lines.

This wasn’t about sexuality. She didn’t give a flying fuck about who he was attracted to, she only cared if he liked her.

But wasn’t that the problem? Wasn’t that just a selfish excuse to be a bad friend? She had no objectivity in her point of view - instead of being there for her best friend and helping him heal in any way he needed, she was just a devil on his shoulder, constantly dragging him into a loveless sludge of casual sex. All because she needed to feed her unrequited feelings without his consent.

She was embarrassed by herself.

“Like, I never really differentiated or cared who gave it anyway, as long as they were cool - felt good nonetheless,” he shrugged, resting his head against her neck. “I like to think of myself as a label-less river that bifurcates into two fun streams but, you know, not all streams are created equal. And I’ve always been pretty persistent in flowing substantially heavier through the pussy-eating one.”

Keeva couldn’t hold back a giggle.

What a Stone explanation.

“I mean, I’m not complaining,” she shrugged, too, yelping when he suddenly started throwing her around again.

“Exactly, neither am I!” he exclaimed. “‘Cause you - ‘cause girls are just -”

He stopped for a moment to formulate his thoughts before loudly sighing.

“I just like the feel of a woman more, you know? Like, men have their own different appeal to me. It sounds stupid, but they’re hot in a weird sort of animalistic way. Like, rough and sweaty and stinky and sloppy,” he said, emphasizing each word by steering her so harshly she huffed. “But that’s just not been my trip for a pretty long time now. Women - unlike us - are so soft and plump and delicious and they smell really nice, too. And I don’t wanna miss out on that, you know?”

“That’s kinda generalizing,” she scoffed when he let her catch a breath. “I mean, I personally always thought I wasn’t girly enough. Flat chest, bony hips. Hardly soft and plump.”

She rolled her eyes at herself.

Again and again. Me, me, me.

��Shut up, you’re plenty soft,” Stone frowned and squeezed her to prove his point. “Besides, that’s what I like about you, anyway. You’re breaking my stereotypes.”

Don’t do this to me.

“Also, first of all - rough, sweaty, stinky and sloppy is the closest thing to heaven in this terrible world,” she raised her index finger. “And secondly, you’re too harsh on your own sex. I’ve met some great-smelling guys.”

“Introduce me then, ‘cause I haven’t,” Stone muttered after a sharp scoff. “I mean, sometimes that’s the main pleasure of sex - like, the sloppiness of it all - but not even the guys I slept with smelled good and you know I’m picky, so that’s saying something.”

Keeva let out a cackle way too loud for 3 AM.

“Since when are you picky?” she said and finally managed to snake out of his grip. She got up and skipped over to her backpack, fishing around a bit before she found what she was looking for - a pocket mirror.

She walked back to Stone and hopped up on his bed again with a huff. Amused by his confused frown, she opened the compact and showed him the mirror.

“Here. Stoney Gossard, meet Stoney Gossard,” she said, lying down next to him. “He has this weird strawberry marijuana soap mixture on him at all times and it stains everything he touches.”

Now it was his turn to blush. His ears were almost as red as his hair used to be.

“Wh- since when do I - wait, do you have a problem with my Suave Strawberry Essence?!”

“I don’t, that’s why I’m introducing you!” she giggled as he shook his head with a grin. He reached out and pinched her naked legs everywhere he could before she fought him off. Then, he swiftly put his arm around her and squeezed her closer again, making her sigh.

“It’s just such a bizarre combination that doesn’t go together at all and it doesn’t make sense why it smells so fucking good but somehow it does. I don’t know, it’s just…it’s the crux of your whole existence packed up in a scent.”

Stone didn’t reply, but the big smile on his face spoke volumes. A question slipped from her lips before she could stop herself.

“Have you ever fallen in love with a guy?”

She quickly looked away so she wouldn’t see the smile disappear, but strangely enough, he didn’t seem too bothered by it.

“Nope,” he simply said with a pop. “I mean, you know me - I don’t really think I’m capable of doing that at all, regardless of what they have in their pants.”

Why the fuck am I doing this to myself?

“You know, whenever I think back these days, I’m pretty certain that I’ve never actually fallen in love with anyone before,” he continued. Keeva frowned.

“The Mormon?”

Stone wasn’t bothered by that dumb question, either. He just shook his head with a scoff.

“That wasn’t love. I mean, actual love,” he explained, slipping his arm away from her - he put it under his head as the cold facade she hated and loved so much hardened his features. “I thought it was for a pretty long time, but lately I’ve realized that it wasn’t even remotely close to the real feeling.”

“Why lately?” she asked, turning around to lay on her back, too.

Stone stayed silent for a moment before slapping his palm on her forehead, shaking her head from side to side.

“Jesus. You should invest in some sudoku books, they might help you put those little brain cells of yours to use.”

“Excuse me?” she choked out and pushed him away. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“And now you’ve reached the end of the questionnaire, hot stuff. Sorry,” he grinned and crossed his legs. Keeva tutted.

“I thought we were playing Truth or Dare, not Twenty Questions.”

“Fine,” Stone smirked. “I dare you not to ask me any more questions.”

Fucking smartass.

Keeva was out of words again. She didn’t know how to articulate anything she was feeling. She just wanted him to know that -

“I just want you to know that it really means a lot to me.”

“That I prefer girls because they smell better?” Stone said, chuckling when she rolled her eyes.

“Fuck off, you know what I mean.”

“I mean, it’s not like I keep it a big secret,” he shrugged. “Everyone around here knows it.”

“I’m not from around here, though,” she shrugged and flipped on her stomach, restless. “I grew up in an environment where you’d get kicked out of a community like this for saying that out loud. Especially in this fucking shithole decade. It’s incredibly special to me, Stoney, I just want you to know.”

“You’re special,” he silently said. “If anyone should know, it’s you. I couldn’t give less of a shit if anyone else knows.”

She turned her head away from him so he wouldn’t see her idiotic smile.

“If anything, it makes you even more endearing,” she mumbled. “Everyone deserves some Stoney in their lives, whether they have a pussy or not. I’m glad you’re not discriminating.”

His joyful laugh was like honey to her ears.

“You should call me endearing more often, really strokes my ego. Oh, and compliment me on how I smell again, that one really did it for me, too.”

Keeva didn’t expect him to talk again after that - she imagined that she’d look away long enough for him to fall asleep and then turn back around to watch his chest rise and fall for the rest of the night.

Yet -

“Have you ever been in love?”

A wave of boiling hot shivers washed over her. Stone was a fantastic liar, but she wasn’t. ‘Bad liar’ was an understatement.

She loudly sighed and shuffled to flip like a pancake again, putting her arms under her head to poorly mirror his casual attitude.

“Love is such a heavy word, isn’t it?” she muttered. “It leaves your mouth once and you can never take it back. Just one misplaced ‘I love you’ and your whole world starts spinning backwards.”

“Yeah, it feels so alien to say it,” Stone nodded, keeping his eyes on the wall. “It’s like talking in a language you don’t know. ‘I love you.’”

“Exactly, like trying to cough out a ball of lead,” she raised her hands to do air quotes. “‘I love you.’”

“I. Love. You,” he repeated, leaving an unnatural pause between each word. Then, he started giggling and Keeva couldn’t help but join.

“I looooove youuuu,” she hummed in a ringing falsetto as he laughed even harder.

“I love - eugh! - you,” he said, breaking into a theatrical coughing fit midway through the sentence.

“I love you?!” she exclaimed it like an outrageous question, clutching her chest. She looked at him as he choked out a few remaining giggles.

When Stone calmed down, he looked at her, too. But his smile gradually faded when their eyes met.

For a split second, she was confused when he slowly reached out to run the back of his hand over her flaming cheek. He suddenly seemed so intimidatingly sincere, his irises flickering in the amber light like two little green flames. His calloused fingertips feathered along her lips as if he was testing her reaction.

A fantastic liar mid-act.

“I love you.”

Keeva prayed that her memory was good enough to etch the sound of his voice deep into her brain. Carve in every single vowel of that sentence and the way he pronounced it.

If she was thorough enough, maybe - when she lay in bed at night - she would be able to repeat it over and over again and pretend that it was meant seriously. Whispered in the dark like a sacred cypher, a fathomless secret never to be heard by anyone else’s ears but hers.

“See?” he breathed out and pulled his hand back. “Sounds strange no matter how you say it.”

Then he just turned away and glued his stare back to the spot on the wall, now without a trace of the boisterous laughter he was shaking with just a few moments ago.

“Maybe it was never meant to be said out loud in the first place, that’s why it’s so hard,” she sighed and looked away, too.

“You didn’t answer me,” he said after a minute of heavy silence.

I don’t have to lie. Selective truth is good enough.

“If I have been, I wasn’t aware of it. Honestly, growing up the way I had, boys were very low on my priority list,” she mumbled. “And that was mutual - you know, an ugly tomboy daughter of two junkies wasn’t exactly a fuck you’d like to bag, let alone fall in love with.”

He sharply tsk-tsked.

“Don’t be stupid.”

“It’s true!” she said with a chuckle. “The closest I’ve gotten to someone wanting me was that one single kiss in high school.”

Stone was open with her, so she decided to follow in his footsteps.

“Me and him were friends, or at least I think we were at some point,” she continued, falling deeper and deeper into her memory. “Fuck, I had such a huge crush that it was painful to even just look at him. Like, it physically hurt. Like a sore punch to the chest, I felt like choking every time I set my eyes on him. You know what I mean, right?”

“Yeah.”

His voice suddenly sounded so different - strained. When she took a quick peek at him to figure out why, she didn’t find anything out of the ordinary. Lately, he had that look quite often. Just staring a hole into the ceiling - one of his typical deer-in-the-headlights expressions, not blinking or moving in any way. Statuesque.

“Teddy, his name was,” she said. “He was a metalhead. Six foot five, he had long wavy hair that he dyed bright fluorescent orange. Like, traffic cone orange. I think he was ginger from the get-go, but I can’t remember. His ears were really pointy, just like yours.”

She could see Stone sit up in her peripheral, stretching as rested his back against the wall. He seemed intrigued.

“He looked like an overgrown punky pixie. Big baby blue eyes. And he smoked these long clove cigs that he shared with me on lunch break, they were disgusting. Always made my tongue numb.”

She let out a shaky sigh, blinking back the tears that stabbed her eyes.

“There was this huge oak tree behind the school building,” she shook her head and breathed out an airy chuckle. “The crown was so big and heavy that the branches were drooping down, that’s how many leaves it had. It was a great hiding place, so we used to sit under it.”

“Was he good?” Stone asked after a pause, encouraging her to continue. Keeva turned to face him, cursing herself when she failed to push back a stray tear. It rolled out of the corner of her eye and audibly fell on the bedsheets.

“Like a good guy or a good kisser?” she scoffed, hoping that he wouldn’t see her wet cheek in the shade.

To her displeasure, Stone immediately reached out and gently wiped it with his thumb.

“Both.”

“I wouldn’t know,” she shrugged. His skin seemed to be like a magnet - suddenly, more tears escaped as if they were begging to be touched by him. “About either, ‘cause it turned out that he did it to get me to steal some of my mom’s coke, so I don’t think I’m a good judge of character.”

The sigh that escaped his lips was so heavy that his shoulders slumped.

“So, uh,” she cleared her throat. “Wouldn’t recognize love even if it repeatedly bashed into my face.”

Stone stared at her for a few moments, an unreadable expression swirling in his wide eyes, before he threw his head back. The sound of his skull against the wall was so crude it made her jump.

“I wish I could go back in time, you know,” he muttered, closing his eyes. “I wish I had a fucking time machine.”

“What a vast statement,” Keeva snickered and reached out to tug on the hairs on his legs. “You should slow down with the hash, I feel like I’m getting high by proxy.”

Stone didn’t seem even slightly amused.

“There are just these nonsensical regrets that pop into existence out of nowhere every time you speak,” he shook his head and looked up at the ceiling again. “Like, I regret things that never happened, you know?”

“I don’t know,” she simply said.

“I regret that I didn’t swoop in and stuff you into my duffle bag and just steal you away back then. That I didn’t carry you out of that shithole in my teeth,” he banged his head against the wall again and slid down, sinking into the bed. “But I was on the other side of the world, you know. So I couldn’t have done that. No matter how fucking much I wish I was there, I wasn’t.”

Fuck. What have I done to deserve you?

“I wouldn’t want that,” she frowned, shifting a bit closer so she could hug his leg. “I’m sure you were having a much better time here, Stoney, thank god. Little careless pebble.”

“But that doesn’t matter anymore, you know?” he pushed further and ran his hand through his still twisted hair. “The past, the present and the future exist all at once and you changed my past. How can the younger me be happy when the older me knows that the younger you was suffering while he was fucking around and sweeping through punk rock clubs?”

Jesus, he must be high as a kite.

“Oh, Stoney,” Keeva whispered, rubbing his shin. “We should really go to sleep, your head is going to be pounding tomorrow -”

“Don’t patronize me!” Stone suddenly raised his voice, making her jump. “How do you not get it? I fucking lo-”

She felt sick to her stomach when he stopped himself with a frustrated groan.

“I fucking loathe younger me for having fun.”

It seemed like a heavy boulder lifted off her chest and fell on it at the same time. She sat up and reluctantly moved closer to him, taking his face in her palms.

“Well, the older you and the older me exist here, now, and we are having fun now,” she said, giving him a reassuring smile when he looked at her. “I’m having so much fun that it makes up for everything. I’m stuck in a room with a hot guy who had just smoked enough hash to narcotize a horse, he’s saying nice things about me, smells really good and likes to make music together. What more could I ask for?”

Stone scoffed.

He let the question hang in the air for a couple of seconds before wrapping his arms around her and - this time as light as a feather - turned her around and pulled her back onto his lap.

“A time machine.”

“I wouldn’t take it if they paid me,” Keeva sank back and closed her eyes as he rested his chin on her shoulder. “I’m happy with being here, now. Aren’t you?”

Stone shrugged, but she wouldn’t get discouraged now.

“Judging by your pupils, you should be blissed out of your skull right now,” she mused - his soft chuckle tickled her goosebumpy skin.

“Who says I’m not? I’ve been puffing on your compliments all night long.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

[tryskomys]

Wet Sand

Stone Gossard x OC

Chapter 16 - Alright

Summary: kinda sounds like you give a shit.

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

notes: this is a bit of a lighter one - well, some parts of it are. a little filler episode if you will. and hell, we need it, because we have some tough shit ahead of us. not yet, but close. let’s enjoy this, then! even if it seems like the world’s most important problem to them.

oh and ps.: i’m proud of you all for making it through another year, guys. <3 happy 2025!

tws: i will stop writing out ‘mentions of sex’ like i stopped writing ‘weed’, it’s getting old. after all, we are young, we run green. jealousy. stone is an asshole. keeva is an asshole and desperate on top of that. love is in the air <3 oh, and john frusciante. he’s not a trigger warning, just a normal warning. beware the washboard abs!

song:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

September, 1989

Between work and rehearsing for the new album, Keeva was exhausted. The summer season at the café was thankfully ending, but autumn wasn’t much better - all those specials and syrups and foams. She felt like she would soon have hazelnut chocolate running through her veins instead of blood and it's only been a few days.

They were leaving for LA in two weeks to record. She was thrilled but extremely nervous. The pressure wasn’t just from the label or from themselves, it felt like the whole of Seattle was holding its breath, too.

Everyone was asking about it. Everyone wanted a taste of ‘Andy's band’s new masterpiece’, the big thing they've been working on for almost two years. Even the people who didn’t like them too much had this morbid curiosity about what the unrightfully popular wannabe-glam metal assholes Mother Love Bone will unveil.

And Keeva loved the material, but making it was like going through unnaturally prolonged labour. There were songs she wasn’t completely satisfied with and even though she poured her heart and soul into them, she still felt like she was doing a half-assed job.

She just wished there was more opportunity to do some weird experimental shit, bring in something totally crazy and feel appreciated for it.

She loved every single guy in that band fully and dearly, but the musical differences were a deep chasm on the bad days. She felt like getting the record done would be a huge band-aid finally ripped off and that it would allow them to have some clean slate at last.

Right before leaving, they had a show opening for The Red Hot Chilli Peppers at The Moore, which was extremely exciting. Keeva had seen them once before Hillel died, but after that happened, she was quite devastated.

Another one.

She was hesitant to even listen to them after that, let alone see them live, but this was a perfect opportunity to check out their new guitarist. From what she’d heard, he was quite the prodigy.

They had the greatest night to unwind a couple of weeks ago, too, because The Cult were in town opening for Metallica. Stone had a whole MTV shtick with Josh, who brought his trusty VCR. She was a bit sceptical, but as always, he was stubbornly insisting.

“Pretty please, Baby? Come on, it will be so fucking irresistibly awkward, we gotta do it.”

When she walked up to the back door of the Centre Coliseum on the moody evening, she could see Stone’s looming figure clad in his yellow sweatshirt, explaining something to Josh, who had the camera pointed at his face.

Oh god, he wasn’t kidding.

Keeva whistled, making them both turn at her.

“Oh, look who it is, the prodigal daughter,” Stone mused to the camera when she arrived with a wide grin. She huddled herself deeper in her thick scarf, her black leather jacket subtly glowing in the amber light of lamps. “Cheerio, Baby!”

“Hey, Pooky!” Josh waved and moved his camera just at the right moment to catch Stone flicking Keeva’s freezing red nose. She slapped his hand away and gave him a quick hug.

“Evening, gentlemen. Where’s Cindy?”

“Went back home for spare batteries.”

“What’s this little manifesto mean? I demand my backstage pass,” she pulled out her best posh accent while hugging Josh and then crossed her arms, theatrically puffing her chest out.

“Jeff Ament was supposed to meet us here,” Stone turned to the camera to address the non-existent audience. “Give us a key to the insider knowledge of Seattle rock. He’s abandoned us, though. Everyone has…and, uh -”

“And now we’ll freeze to death. Let that be on our gravestones,” she shook her head with a disappointed sigh. “Here lie blah, blah. Died of hypothermia, Anno Domini 1989. Jeff Ament stole their golden tickets.”

“They’ll bury us and these policemen in a mass grave,” he quickly nodded to the group of cops behind them. Keeva frowned.

“Woah, woah, woah. I don’t wanna be in a grave with you,”

“Why not?" he shrugged. "I’m known for being a darling guy.”

“‘Cause you…snore?” she raised her eyebrows as if it was the obvious answer, narrowing her eyes.

They all giggled and Keeva closed her eyes to compose herself before reaching up to tug her scarf higher, covering her icy ears.

“Do you want my jacket? I really don’t think you have enough layers on. It’s only like, what, sixty degrees?”

“I don’t know what that means, Yank. I’m still on the Celsius scale - you know, like a civilized person.”

“Yeah, sure thing, grandma,” he condescendingly tapped her cheek and then shook his head with a disapproving stare into the camera. “Fine, let’s make our death a little bit more intimate.”

Stone sat on the curb and patted the empty space next to him.

“Sit. Sit with me, my children.”

Oh, Stone. When Keeva gave him the clumsy proposition, she didn’t expect him to be so thorough with it. Her already thin hopes were wavering more and more as weeks from their encounter turned into months, but then he just came up to her one day and audaciously swept her off the counter she was sitting on, threw her over his shoulder and never looked back.

“I’m bored,” he’d said.

And every time since then, he came up with a new bullet-proof excuse.

“Tammy pissed me off at work. I had to throw out a whole batch of pretzel dough because it apparently wasn't salty enough, I need a wind-down.”

“Writer’s block. My brain feels like a tin bucket, gotta make sure I still have human needs…yup. Plenty needs.”

One time he even came up and knocked on the wooden frame of her room at 3 AM as if he could tell she was wide awake.

“Hey. Uh, can’t sleep? Want me to help with that?”

She brought that one upon herself. A few nights prior to that, that was her excuse. It took so much work, but she managed to push herself to hop down and ask him.

He was one to be fast asleep at around midnight, but lately, he’d been staying up unusually late. He must’ve been stressed about the recording - that’s what she guessed, anyway. It wasn’t like he’d tell her.

When she reluctantly pattered down the stairs, he was lying in his bed, clutching his guitar to his chest and staring at the ceiling. He looked so deep in thought that she almost turned back again - it seemed inhumane to disturb him. His pipe was sitting on his bedside table, burning through the unattended clump of weed - as if he was using it instead of an incense burner.

“How wasteful.”

His head snapped towards her as if she’d just slapped him, his eyes wide for a split second before he relaxed. He gave her a careless shrug and looked away again, back to the peeling burgundy paint.

“Polygram money,” he muttered, surprisingly unamused. She just stood there, scratching the wooden pillar. The pipe’s muted sizzling was hypnotizing - maybe she could fall asleep if she just focused on it. Let it be her lullaby, sparing her pride and -

“What’s the occasion?”

She couldn’t turn back now. He already read her, maybe even before she walked down. Always remembering the slightest details. That made her knees buckle, so she had to lean on the pillar to support herself - she folded her arms and hoped that he would think of it as her being cool instead of weak.

“I can’t sleep,” she said, keeping her voice just above a whisper.

Stone scoffed and crossed his legs, mindlessly plucking the low E on his guitar.

“What’s it to me?”

She didn’t understand why he was being so dismissive. Was she not kind enough in her approach? Respectful enough? Careful enough? Was her tone too snarky? Was her hair greasy?

Fuck, it’s the zit on my chin. Or do I have something in my teeth? Oh no, and there’s an egg yolk smear on my t-shirt. I knew I shouldn’t have eaten those fucking pancakes. And the cellulite is getting worse, too, Jesus fucking Christ. Why didn’t I put pants on?! I’m getting way too comfortable.

Bruised spongy legs and dirty pyjamas, the epitome of womanhood. That’ll surely do it for him.

“I need a reason,” he mumbled. His soft voice was like honey to her ears, snapping her out of her dissociation. Such harsh words, spoken in such a sickeningly sweet tone.

There’s no such thing as God. If there was, he wouldn’t give this asshole such an irresistible face. ‘Cause that’s just cruel.

He looked so sincere, though. So unbothered, practical. Just staring upwards, plucking the same string over and over, face softly obscured by the smoke coming out of the pipe next to him. His nonchalance was intoxicating - contagious.

She couldn’t properly think her response through, her vocal cords worked faster than her brain.

“You’re impressively good at putting me to sleep.”

Fuck. Daft cow.

The quack-like giggle he let out before he sat up broke her weakly composed facade.

“Baby, we really gotta work on that flirting game of yours or no one’s ever gonna sleep with you,” he tutted and dusted pancake crumbs off his striped boxers. He reached out to take a big hit of the burnt chunk that was left in his pipe. “No one but me, that is. You know I’m easy.”

Even on the night of The Cult gig, he had flawless reasoning. At least that was what it seemed like to her after Ian Astbury's graciously gifted shots.

“I’m drunk. You’re drunk, too.”

Although, she was tipsy enough to not contest it even beforehand - tipsy from his stupid running joke that was getting old even before the gig began.

“The policemen outside recognized me from the ‘wanted’ posters around Pioneer Square so I had to run for it,” she jogged back to her tandem of idiots after taking a quick smoke break outside. She tapped her thigh. “They caught up but then I showed them this sweet little backstage pass. I promised them Cornell’s autograph and they let me go.”

“That’s the testament to the power of the Seattle music scene, ladies and gentlemen. Slap on backstage passes and go from there,” Stone pointed a finger at the camera. “Anyway, Baby. You're late for our survey segment. Did you hear that Dave Holland is not in the band anymore?”

She snorted.

“Uh…I did, actually. You told me like, five hours ago?”

“You’re supposed to be shocked, now," Stone rolled his eyes. "You’ll make me look bad.”

“Oh, fuck,” her eyes popped open as Josh disapprovingly shook his head with a grin. “Dammit, sorry. Okay, ask me again.”

“Oh, here you are, Baby!” Stone nonchalantly leaned on the wall next to them after professionally clearing his throat. “We were looking all over for you. The viewers want your commentary on some very important news in the music business. Did you know that Dave Holland isn’t in Priest anymore?”

Her jaw dropped.

“Is he not? You’re fucking with me, right? That’s mental,” Keeva clutched on her chest, acting out of breath while she turned to the camera. “See, ladies, when you’re friends with Stoney Gossard here, you learn something new every day. Sometimes even twice a day, clearly.”

“Okay, okay,” Stone reached out and cupped her mouth to silence her. “Let’s move on, we have more topics to tackle. Quick-fire questions. Let's hope you'll do better than the last girl - no offence to her, but we need content. Who do you like better, Glenn Tipton or K.K. Downing?”

“K.K. No question,” she quickly shot back.

“Any particular reason for your choice?”

“Just because it’s a cool fucking name,” she shrugged.

“What about Iron Maiden?” Stone questioned, an intrigued look on his face.

“Who doesn’t like Iron Maiden, come on.”

“Opinions on Steve Harris?” Stone raised his eyebrows and before he finished lifting his fingers in the air, she already spat her beer back into her cup.

“A double shredder?! Double shredder. Come on, now. That’s all you have to know,” she turned to the camera when she composed herself and opened her mouth wide with a shocked face. “How could I not like him? I’m only human.”

He wouldn't let it go after the show, either. The dedication was so excellent she couldn't help but play along.

“Hey, Chris, did you know that Dave Holland is not in the band anymore?” he appeared behind Keeva out of nowhere and nonchalantly threw his arms around her neck when she was talking to a well-baked Chris and Greg - the latter was sporting a new terrible haircut she gave him on a whim at 2 AM after an exhausting rehearsing session.

Funny how tiredness doubles as being drunk out of your mind.

“Huh? He’s not? Bullshit, that’s insane,” she exclaimed and bent her head back to look up at Stone with wide eyes. He grinned as they exchanged falsely subtle thumbs up and tugged on her hair before he rested his chin on the top of her head again. Josh shook with laughter, stabilizing his VCR with both hands.

The Peppers gig was about as different as it could be. Yes, Love Bone had a great show and the guys were fantastic - the new guitar player was really a wizard - but Keeva’s main object of attention disappeared somewhere as soon as they walked into the bar after the show, his pink scrunchie getting swallowed by the crowd before she managed to stop him.

They met the guys backstage and promised to take them to the best joint in town - of course, Stone and she chose the Off Ramp to spite them.

They loved it, though. Stone didn’t even have time to begin his scam routine - The Peppers clearly had a lot more dough than any of them, lavishly buying the group drink after drink.

“You just keep bringing me these tequila shots, one after another, and I don't have the heart to tell you that I fucking hate tequila,” Keeva sighed when John joined her at the table again, putting a tall shot glass in front of her with a ringing thud.

He was one annoying fruitfly - he always came back, no matter how crass and caustic her jokes at his expense were. A really cute fruitfly nonetheless.

“Why do you drink ‘em, then?” he chuckled, and weightlessly sat down opposite her, lighting a cigarette.

“Because I value people’s money, John, that’s why,” she leaned on the table, squinting. He just snorted and took a small pause before continuing.

“He’s kinda an asshole, that Stoney of yours, met him at the bar,” he said, taking a puff. “Probably doesn’t like that you’re sitting here.”

Keeva huffed and shook her head.

“Oh, he’s not - we’re just friends. Slash roommates,” she waved her hands around, hoping that the dim light would hide her glowing red blush.

John scowled.

“So he’s just fucking you? Shouldn’t be jealous, then,” he raised his eyebrows and leaned on the table, too. She choked on her saliva when she took a breath to answer.

“Excuse me?” she coughed out.

“You heard me,” he replied, shaking his bleached short hair out of his eyes. Keeva mirrored his smug expression.

“Aren’t you a little brash, mate?”

“Figured you’d like that if he’s the one fucking you,” John shrugged and leaned back in his chair. Keeva squinted at him, tipping her head to challenge him to elaborate.

“That Stones cover you did tonight? Two people who play like this must be fucking,” he shrugged again and took a drink. Keeva blinked a few times to digest his statement.

They routinely did a cover of Gimme Shelter - it was arranged with three guitars in mind and it just sounded really good with Andy’s wailing.

She was usually tasked with the main melody while Stone was doing his perfectly funky rhythmic part and Bruce was the psychedelic undertone at the bottom.

She didn’t know what it was, maybe the harsh lyrics, but the beating cadence of the guitar sounded like a heart to her. His heart. It made her move in ways that were maybe a bit too unchained for the kind of music they played. And Stone seemed to be pretty into it.

She couldn’t help but chuckle at John’s sincere stare.

“So, by your logic, if we’re together, why are you trying to get into my knickers?” she confidently asked, but John immediately raised his finger to stop her and wiggled in his chair again as if he couldn’t sit still.

“I said that you’re fucking, not that you’re together. Two people who play like this can’t be together, that would be unsustainable.”

A cold shiver ran down Keeva’s spine, but she tried to write it off as a consequence of having one too many shots.

The fucking tequila.

Why was this cocky asshole staring at her and why was he looking right inside her head?

Why was he right?

“Wise man. And using big words like ‘unsustainable’, too. You should be a therapist,” she mockingly nodded, giving him a sly smile. “How much per hour?”

“You couldn’t afford me,” John smirked and crossed his arms. Keeva scoffed at his arrogance. Somehow, it was endearing. Maybe even attractive. She couldn’t tell.

“Try me.”

He raised his eyebrows and smiled, darting between her and his lap. Her flushed cheeks puffed with a laugh as she shook her head.

“Oh, you’d have to be a much better therapist to get that,” she grinned and sipped a bit of the tequila to give herself more confidence. She catastrophically failed, though, letting out a childish cough as if she’d never taken a sip of alcohol before.

The Off Ramp spirits were really something else.

“Guess so,” John said with an amused pout that morphed into a wide smile when she giggled at his expression. As the alcohol clouded Keeva’s brain, music seemed to be getting louder and the lousy lights were glowing brighter.

And he seemed more and more beautiful.

Yes, he had all this contagious giddy energy around him and washboard abs were peeking out of his strategically unbuttoned red shirt with black suspenders on top, but it was his eyes - they didn’t match him. They weren’t keeping up with the youthful smugness. They were calm and wise. And sad. They reminded her of -

No.

“That girl beside the bar,” Keeva said and nodded her head in the direction of a redhead sitting on a barstool a few feet away from them. “She’s been eyeing you the whole night. She was next to me in the pit, pretty sure I heard her moan during one of your solos. Might be a better target for your unsolicited advice.”

John didn’t even bat an eye. His smirk just widened because he noticed the strain in her voice.

“I’m pretty content right where I am,” he mumbled, taking a big drag of his cigarette without leaving her eyes.

Keeva cleared her throat. John’s nose was pretty, too. Only strengthened her longing thoughts - even the most beautiful of faces couldn’t compare to him. On cue, her eyes searched around the room.

Please, don’t be there. Don’t make me do this. Let’s just go home.

And yet, Stone’s bright pink scrunchie peeked out behind the corner as if to spite her - she was subconsciously looking for him the whole night and at the one moment she prayed she wouldn’t find him, he appeared out of thin air.

He was laughing, scratching the back of his neck as a tall brunette whispered something in his ear and then leaned back against the wall, letting him cage her. Then, he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and followed her through the crowd all the way to one of the hallways - the one that led to the back door.

They disappeared from her sight there.

Keeva’s eyes slowly moved back to John, who was still staring her down. She hid her sigh by downing the tequila in one harsh sip.

“So am I.”

John softly nodded as if he heard her train of thought. He’d noticed the smidge of insincerity in her voice. There was a flash of seriousness in his eyes before he completely changed his demeanour again, shifted in his seat and spread his legs.

“You’d feel even better if you were right here,” he tapped his knee with a smile.

Keeva wanted to laugh at his corny pornographic posture, but her body didn’t allow it. She just mindlessly leaned on the table and raised her eyebrows.

It’s just casual. It’s casual. He never promised me loyalty and I don’t owe him anything, either.

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Will you?” John said, his voice so silent only she could hear it.

She shrugged with a small smile, but before she could continue, Greg appeared out of nowhere and slammed his hand on the table. She jumped and so did John.

“Pooooooky! Your glass is empty, it’s time to drink up, babycakes!” Greg sing-songed and hugged her around the shoulders, waving a shot glass in the air while making airplane noises. When he noticed John’s red cheeks, he darted between the two of them and then sucked his teeth.

“Oh shit, I’m interrupting your little date, am I?” he muttered, scratching his head. Keeva bit her lips and nodded, pushing back a laugh. Greg groaned and slapped his forehead.

“Fuck, sorry. I’m a dumbass. Anyway,” he snapped back to her and started forcing the shot in her face. “Here comes the airplane! I promised Stoney I’ll make sure you drink it or he’ll beat me up.”

“Jesus, Greg, he’s just a sack of bones,” Keeva mumbled, trying to ignore the implication. She squeezed her eyes shut when he finally got her to part her lips and threw the shot back. She coughed a few times and then sneezed.

“Have you seen those knuckles? Bless ya,” he slurred and then handed the second shot he was holding to John.

“Here you go, buddy. Great show tonight. No airplane for you, sorry,” Greg said and patted John’s shoulder.

“Back at you, man,” he grinned and kicked the shot back, a bit shaken from Greg’s strong grip.

“Bring her back home in one piece and no funny business!” he said and wiggled his index finger at John, then gave Keeva a loud sloppy peck on the forehead and left as swiftly as he appeared.

Keeva stared at the table for a few moments before finally gathering enough courage to look at John. He was grinning, his cheeks flushed.

‘I promised Stoney I’ll make sure you drink it.’

Fucking bastard. Of course he was watching.

“Not easy being the greenie, innit?” she mumbled, expecting a laugh from him. But John’s cheeky smile fell.

“Yeah…”

He looked at the table and squirmed in his chair again, this time twisting into a hunch as he picked on his nails.

“How do you do it?” he asked after a few moments.

Suddenly, all the bravado was gone and in front of her sat a boy. A shy, tired boy asking for advice.

Oh, buddy, you’ve come to the wrong place.

“Dunno. Play along, throw it in their face…cry me to sleep,” she shrugged, nudging him with her foot under the table. He finally looked at her again, breaking into a soft smile.

Another long silence.

“Does he do it too?”

He didn’t need to drop names, his eyes spoke for him.

“Do what?” she asked just to prolong the opportunity to think her next moves through.

“Mock you.”

“More than anyone,” Keeva said with a sour chuckle. “The ‘Baby’ isn’t a flirty hot nickname, you know. It’s literal.”

John nodded and looked away again. He was shaking his leg, once again unable to sit still.

“And, uh…how do you deal with that?” he asked like an innocent kid. For a moment, Keeva thought that she saw him search for someone in the crowd, too.

She sighed.

“I sleep with him.”

“I figured,” he said with a chuckle and turned back to her. He waited for a few moments and then changed his posture again, melting into his chair.

“Does he make you feel good?” he silently questioned. His cocky smirk completely erased any doubt that was all over his face just a minute ago. Keeva’s cheeks went beet red, but she managed to keep her composure.

“What, you think you could do better?” she shot back and grinned too, but she was fighting the urge to just tell him off again.

Highly doubt that.

John didn’t budge, he just crossed his legs and lit another cigarette.

“I can try,” he shrugged after taking a drag. Keeva opened her mouth and closed it again, chuckling.

“You’re very persuasive, I’ll give you that.”

“Tell you what,” he exhaled the smoke and scratched his chin. “I’ll go talk to the ginger at the bar so you can decide in peace.”

She snorted, secretly delighted that he was offering her a way out, regardless of his intentions.

“So I’m your little rebound?” she squinted at him and folded her arms. He just shrugged with a sly grin.

“You’re a little hypocrite, Baby, that’s what you are.”

She sat back as John continued.

“Bet your friend is somewhere around. Tell him that tonight he will either fuck you or fuck off and leave the fucking to me. Then we can try the rebound thing.”

“I’m pretty sure he left a long time ago,” Keeva scoffed, darting her head towards the exit.

John got up and walked around the table to her seat. He offered her a cig from his box, lighting it up when she picked one.

“Let’s test it.”

He bent to her level and leaned in, brushing off a few curls stuck in her eyelashes. Before she could understand his movement - or blink for that matter, he suddenly pressed his lips against hers in a short but warm kiss, holding her head in his palms.

Keeva was flabbergasted.

She’d forgotten what a kiss felt like - not that she ever properly knew. But it was heavenly. As soon as John’s lips touched her, though, she immediately shut her eyes so she could imagine it being someone else. And she truly hated herself for that.

Little hypocrite. Sounds about right.

After a brief moment of lingering, he pulled away, a cocky grin plastered all over his face.

“You look cute like this,” he chirped and then set off to the bar, leaving her to sit there in utter silence.

Keeva's cheeks were burning red and her eyes were hazy. She felt lightheaded. A few of her curls stuck out at the places he held her and her dark red lipstick was slightly smudged. She scoffed as she watched him leave.

“Good girl, learning fast,” Stone’s voice appeared right next to her head, making her jump. He swiftly grabbed the cigarette from her and took a drag, puffing the smoke right into her face from the inches of distance between them. Then he gave her a sarcastic smile and walked around the table to sit opposite of her, right where John sat just a few minutes ago.

She shivered.

He mocks you and bats his eyelashes once and you’re already ruined? Pathetic.

“You were watching me, sleazebag?” she squinted at him. She was everything but mad at him, no matter how hard she tried. It was like a dream come true - he always came back to her. Her dignity was smashed into tiny shards, but she didn’t care.

“It was a historical event, wasn’t it? Never thought the day would come, the second kiss of your life!” he took another drag and shrugged, keeping the insincere smile. That did spark something akin to anger in her.

“No thanks to you,” she snapped back. She would be regretful of that low blow if Stone didn’t have a stain from a lipstick that wasn’t hers on his neck. The twitch of his eye implied some sort of impact, but his smile grew even wider.

“Exactly, that’s the best thing about it.”

Motherfucker.

Oh, he knew how to fight back. He knew exactly where to stab to be sure he didn’t miss.

“So did you just want to congratulate me and be on your way?” Keeva put on a sweet tone, pointing at the door. “Please, thank you. Bye?”

“No, actually, that’s just the debris,” he shook his head and carelessly crossed his legs. “I came to deliver a message.”

“Oh, you’re quitting the business to be a postman now? Good for you, Stoney. Love a man in a uniform,” she said, thoroughly satisfied when her bitchy attitude provoked an eye roll from Stone. “Who for?”

He stared her down and rudely put the cigarette out against the table.

“That juicy little boy that just planted one on you.”

She let out a loud cackle.

“Okay, a message for the little boy from the big boy table? I’m invested.”

“Whatever he’s doing, I don’t give a shit,” Stone said after a long pause, breathing out the cigarette smoke through his nose. “But if he harms a single hair on your head, I’ll take those stupid suspenders of his, shove ‘em up his nostril and pull them out of his ass. M’kay?”

Is he jealous?

Bullshit. No way.

“Kinda sounds like you do give a shit,” she squinted. “Why don’t you tell him yourself?”

“It will have more impact from you, I think,” he shrugged.

“He had a message, too, just thought I’d spare you,” Keeva sat back and reached up to wipe her smudged lipstick. “Apparently? Tonight either you can fuck me or he’ll do it for you.”

“What a poet,” Stone sharply scoffed. “Like I said, let him do his thing, but if he doesn’t -”

Okay. That’s it. Leave, now.

“Yea, thanks. Get it,” she shook her head and gave him a hostile stare, hoping that he’d leave as fast as possible so she could shed the tear she’d been holding since they’d arrived at this cursed place. “So I’m your delivery boy now?”

When he didn’t budge or look away, she chose to continue and twist the dagger.

“And what do I get in return from you, hm? A kiss on the cheek?”

Oh. Oh no.

A nauseating burn settled in Keeva’s throat as more blood rushed into her face, heating up thanks to his questioning stare. It was like the crass comment lingered in the air like a thick storm cloud, the thunder echoing over and over again through the four walls that surrounded them.

A kiss on the cheek, that’s what we’d agreed on.

How do I take this back? Fuck, please let me take it back.

Stone didn’t say anything, he just shifted in his seat so subtly she almost didn’t notice. Her face was slowly dropping the sardonic smirk and he just watched it happen, observing her like a strange phenomenon.

Jesus Christ, just say something, you idiot. Anything. Or he will.

“You know what, scratch that. We’re leaving,” he said, his tone nearly unphased. Keeva couldn’t back out, now.

“Is your ego so hurt by a little boy that you have to leave?”

“Yeah, positively devastated,” he scoffed and got up. “We were supposed to be at Devon’s birthday party like two hours ago. Regan sprinted four blocks to come and get us ‘cause they were worried. He’s waiting outside, so pack your shit up pronto. Or don’t, I don’t really care, but Devon does.”

Shit. I forgot.

“How long do we have to be there?” Keeva whined like a petty child, eager to forget about this whole scene.

She wanted to fall on her knees and kiss his high-tops for ignoring her comment, that was the worst thing about it.

“Dunno, long enough to find you a different little boy who’ll hurt my ego, now that I’ve robbed you of this one.”

Stone’s seemingly jealous tone was long gone. His classic cold diction suited him better, even if that fact was disappointing.

She turned to the bar - John wasn’t there anymore and neither was the ginger.

“You really don’t wanna be the one to do the fucking tonight, do you?” Keeva chuckled and turned her back to him to take her jacket off the back of the chair - that was her excuse to hide the stray tear that finally escaped her eye.

“Honestly, I’ve lost my appetite.”

“And once again, two of Seattle’s greatest minds think alike,” she said with a sour chuckle, quickly wiping the drop on her cheek before walking around him without another look at his face. “Hope you’re ready for an ass-beating in Scrabble tonight, big boy.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

[tryskomys]

Wet Sand

Stone Gossard x OC

Chapter 15 - Mary

Summary: how could they all stand you?

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

notes: hello hello, guys! here we are with another stone pov. this guy is just a bundle of self-hate wrapped in a fancy sparkling gift-wrapping paper of hubris, sex appeal, sarcasm and cockiness. oh look, a christmas-y reference!

jokes aside, happy holidays to everyone who celebrates, guys. i appreciate you all so fucking much, hope you all have a sweet time, whatever that means to you <3

tws: religious imagery? for some reason? just writing this point out gives me whiplash lol. talks about sex. this guy has some deep-seated issues with himself y’all. a bit spicy, especially towards the end.

song:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

August, 1989

It’s been four months and Stone hadn’t written a single note. The starting date of the album recording was finally creeping closer and closer, and he had nothing new. His mind has been emptied. Spent. Four months of seeing her flushed blissful face in place of anything he tried to put his attention to.

He couldn’t even shake the image out by banging his head against the wall - he tried. Repeatedly. But he wasn’t able to take a look in the mirror anymore without seeing Keeva’s wild hair next to him.

Four months and the night they spent together still haunted him like a shadow everywhere he went - at night on his way home from a party she didn’t attend, he could see the silhouette of her naked body on the graffiti-filled wall.

He could hear her muffled moans in the traffic noises outside their rehearsal space.

He could still smell her sweet sweat on his body when he took his clothes off to shower, despite scrubbing his skin raw many times over.

He couldn’t even hear the sound of his strings anymore - they were replaced by her heavenly sighs.

When Stone woke up next to her that morning, for a few puzzling moments he thought he’d actually fallen asleep instead, nosediving into a surreal lustful dream.

Keeva looked like a fallen angel from a Renaissance painting - her fawny hair was spread on the pillow like a perfect halo, the curls preciously separated into little ringlets thanks to the sweat and humidity.

Her freckled cheeks were as soft as a pair of feathered wings - but the maroon bruises that peppered around her sylph-like features were so harsh and raw in comparison that Stone physically recoiled. Such a nauseating desecration.

Even though her face was stained by many colourful hues of pain, her eyes were peacefully closed and her plush lips were curled into a sweet, content smile.

Her naked skin was almost as pale as the bed sheets - the blanket partially covered only her hips and one of her breasts, which gave the whole scene a strange, dichotomic aura of modesty. And the ethereal scent of sex she emanated made Stone’s head spin so fast that he believed that he couldn’t stay a second longer - but his body failed to listen to him.

Because instead, he sank back into the mattress with a sigh and wished that they could lock themselves in this room.

It would be so easy. No more than a couple of steps - take the key, throw it down the drain and stay in the janky bed forever. Survive off of each other, get tangled in the sheets, and do whatever they put their minds to.

Suspended in time, free of all responsibilities, untouched by the world around them. Just lazying around for the rest of their lives, sleeping, fucking, cuddling, laughing…just talking.

Pushing a few strands of hair out of his face, he was fighting every fibre of his body, because it seemed to do whatever it wanted without his permission.

First, he shuffled a bit closer to Keeva and blinked a few times before, completely absent-minded, leaning closer to her. Stone was inching closer so slowly that he could barely register his own movement. Her lips looked so soft and so pink and so swollen from all the head-spinning kisses she placed all over his body that - no.

He managed to gain control just as he felt her warm shallow breath on the bow of his lips. As he hovered above her, he pondered that he could at least steal one warm kiss on her neck, but he knew that he wouldn’t be strong enough to hold back after that.

Stone let out a strained sigh and pulled away just as slowly as he leaned in and rested his head on the pillow, his ears burning bright red. He was extremely embarrassed that he even thought about it.

Then, he lifted his hand to caress Keeva’s cheek, but midway through the air, he decided that it would be wiser not to touch her at all. Better not wake her up and leave before he does something he would regret later.

Because Stone knew that it would only take one kiss to make him collapse like a house of cards, never to be rebuilt again.

He couldn’t tear his gaze away, though. He could swear he felt his big eyes well up with equally big tears, a feeling that was so foreign to him that he almost felt scared by the sheer vulnerability of his position. But she was just so breathtakingly beautiful.

Stone had never seen Keeva sleep so peacefully before. Come to think of it, he’d actually never seen her sleep at all.

A year and a half of having this at the tips of his fingers and he’d never even seen her sleep.

All because he never had the balls to even just spend the night in the same room with her. Keeva was the one who had to take initiative, even though Stone had never wanted anything in his life as much as this. And now that he got it, he felt utterly insatiable.

It was nothing like he’d imagined. Stone took himself for a pretty creative guy when it came to daydreams about her, but not even his mind could ever conjure such an intense and pristine feeling of ecstasy he went through when he got to touch her. Even the tips of his lips were tingling, that’s how intense the tension was.

And she was amazing.

Out of this world, like a gorgeous lewd painting come to life, up for anything he brought to the table. It felt like they’d been doing this for ages, not for the first time. Immediately knowing everything the other thirsted for without even having to verbalize it.

It was nothing like Stone had ever felt before - after all those years of casual meaningless sex with both women and men, this was the night he finally lost his virginity.

He wanted another night - he didn’t give a fuck about how they’d spend it. He’d be satisfied even if she shackled him to the bed and only allowed him to watch her sleep. Or shackling her to the bed and just making her stare at him the whole night, thinking of what could he be doing to her.

Maybe put her in charge and see what it feels like to be in her grasp, eating from the palm of her hand.

Or do what he always naturally inclined towards - wipe that cocky smirk off her face and take her as raw as she’d let him, with no limits and a lot of begging. And judging by yesterday’s little slips of her composure, he knew that she’d go crazy for that.

No, Stone didn’t want one more - after that, another. And another and another, and then so many that he couldn’t even count that high.

The gluttony of it all made him sick.

Greed, too. Stone was never a jealous person - hell, he dodged every relationship as soon as it started showing any signs of exclusivity. But suddenly, he couldn’t stand the idea of Keeva laughing at another man’s joke.

One day, he knew, she would end up laughing with someone else. She will hold hands with that stranger, throw jokes in his direction. The stranger will get to taste those lips over and over again and she will let him. She will stay in the stranger’s bed - because the stranger will give her what he can’t. And she’ll lay there, smiling just as sweetly as now, her heart full of warm love and peace.

Already green with envy for a man neither of them had even met yet. It was hard enough to know that he was out there, just existing in blissful ignorance, not knowing that he would one day take Stone’s most precious thing - the problem was that Keeva didn’t even belong to him in the first place.

For a moment there, mindlessly running his fingers along the big bruise on his cheek, Stone didn’t recognize himself. Not only was he trying to call dibs on a woman who wasn’t even remotely romantically interested in him - he also felt like he owned the right to do it.

Never in his life had he gotten as angry as when he saw someone hurt her. It was such a primitive emotion - he was so furious that he felt like he could spit acid. Stone was ready to bash that guy’s head in - if Jeff hadn’t dragged him away, he might’ve kicked him out of consciousness.

And the dull pain of every single punch he took only made his blood boil further - suddenly, he felt like he could take on everyone in that room. Slam his face into someone’s skull without a second thought and without any consequence.

He wanted to fight. He wanted to cause pain. He wanted to hurt people. All because a couple of them had the nerve to draw Keeva’s blood.

But as always, Stone’s ego was his biggest downfall. Because he would never admit to this. He would never let Keeva know that she made him feel this way, because he basked in the fact that she thought he was cool and careless. He managed to be confident around her only because he wouldn’t allow himself to fully crack in front of her.

Through a few rough moments of arrogance, he even told himself that he was doing her a favour, just to give his mind some downtime.

But it didn’t matter what Stone’s intentions were or what he’d hoped to accomplish by bullshitting himself into thinking that he was over it. It all came down to the same conclusion - he wasn’t a good man for her.

He was stubborn and spiteful, a perfectionist without limits. Borderline rude, bitter. An asshole who can’t talk about his feelings because it makes him feel like a raw nerve. A jealous prideful prick that would bind her down instead of letting her explore something she deserves.

He could never bring her the comfort Keeva needed because he didn’t know how.

Trying to soothe the pain of a girl who’d been dragged through every single puddle of mud she’d stumbled upon throughout her nearly twenty-one years of life - and from what authority? An attorney’s son with a nice house and a loving family who’s revolting against a society that barely took anything from him while it had taken everything from her?

How could she ever love him when all he did was snark, fuck around and unknowingly flaunt his idyllic adolescence?

If Stone was given the choice, he’d break his spine to surrender everything he had and bring her his heart on a silver platter.

But how can you do that when you have nothing to serve?

Maybe the ginger Mormon was right all along - buying a few indulgences might’ve rid him of this awful shame.

If he wasn’t on the road to hell before, he surely bagged a one-way ticket now - a bullseye on all seven sins. And it only took one night.

Seven more reasons on top of the plethora in his head to leave as quickly as possible.

In fact, the sun wasn’t even properly up yet and he was already packed and ready to get out of there.

Half through the door, though, Stone’s right brain got the better of him and he turned back around. He spotted a basic notepad on the bedside table and rushed to it as silently as he could, trying not to take a single look at her.

It all felt like embracing Keeva and then stabbing her in the back with a knife. And the blade was so long that it pierced through his gut, too. He didn’t even know why he was doing it. He was just operating on raw impulses, trying to get it over with so he could just exit the situation. His fingers were shaking when he grabbed the notepad and the lousy pencil next to it.

Fuck, what am I even supposed to say? Doesn’t matter, it will all sound the same to her.

‘Good morning. You’re a fantastic fuck. I don’t care enough to stay, though. But I’d fancy fucking you again sometime. See you in the car! - Stoney’

Stone rubbed his eye so harshly that he nearly poked it out with the pencil. He mouthed a curse and frowned, hovering above the paper.

Hey, I had to run, but

He carefully tore the paper out with a sigh, crumpled it into a ball and stuffed it in his back pocket.

Morning, I’m sorry I’m not here, but Andy called and

Fuck no. I’m not dragging the queen snitch into this.

Hey, Baby. I needed to leave earlier, but it was

Morning. Had to go for a smoke, but I had a great

‘Sup, Baby, I packed up early, hope to see

Had to run, but I didn’t wanna wake

Already went out. You were

He had to bite into his knuckle to hold back a frustrated groan - the last thing he wanted was for Keeva to wake up in the middle of him running away like a coward.

Stone took a deep breath to compose himself, closed his eyes and decided to write down whatever came to his mind first.

Went downstairs for a blunt & coffee. That’s an invite, by the way. - lov

He stopped to stare at the paper for a few seconds and then lunged forward and started vigorously running the pencil over the last letters. He pressed down so hard he almost pierced the paper.

B. E. E. A. Ugh, fuck. B. B. E. A. A.

There we go.

Went downstairs for a blunt & coffee. That’s an invite, by the way. - be anpole

On cue, Stone heard a shuffle of the sheets, so he frantically snatched Keeva’s hair tie off the table and he quickly put the note in its place. Then he gathered all the aborted attempts he ripped out and picked them off the floor, tiptoeing out of the room.

As soon as Stone closed the door behind him, he let out a heavy sigh and ripped all the papers to bits, stuffing them in his duffle bag. He slung it over his shoulder and set off.

On his way through the hallway, he didn’t even bother to look into the mirror that was hanging there. He was focused on the hair tie he stole, trying to play a few rounds of Cat’s Cradle with.

He didn’t really pay attention to what he was doing, his mind was racing with so many thoughts that it all meshed into an ugly white noise. So without much thought, Stone turned the hair tie over in his fingers a few times and then lifted it to his nose, taking a big breath. Like it would…

Fuck. It does smell like her hair.

Stone had a bad habit of chewing on his scrunchies, but when he took this one between his teeth, it felt incredibly wrong. Before he could slap himself awake and finally use the tie the way it was supposed to be used, Greg emerged from one of the rooms next to theirs.

By now, months later and lying in his bed and staring out of the window while mindlessly strumming his guitar, Stone could hardly remember what he’d said to him as they headed to the café.

He only snapped back into consciousness when she walked in back then.

Keeva had bruises all over her face and a stitched-up forehead, her curls were sticking out in all directions and the tip of her nose was bright red from the cold wind outside, but she looked so well-rested.

She was beaten up and messy and frail, wearing the same worn-out leather jacket she’d been wearing since she was thirteen and those fucking dungarees that were starting to rip at the knees, yet she seemed like she’d just had the best sleep of her life.

If pride made people float, Stone would’ve been hovering so high up that they’d have to pull out a ladder to drag him down from the ceiling. And the little smile Keeva gave him when their eyes met nearly broke him - he was grateful that Greg stepped in to talk to her.

If he hadn’t, Stone probably would’ve jumped over the table, picked her up, thrown her over his shoulder and carried her back to the room, where he would’ve locked them and thrown away the key forever - surely accompanied by her angelic giggles.

When he finally stole the chance to talk at the gas station, he wanted to establish that nothing had changed - but everything had. When he took Keeva around the shoulders, the shockwave that went through his entire body was far stronger than it used to be, almost painful.

And when she showered him with toothy smiles and giddy compliments, Stone felt like he could fly again. The notion of being up for repeating the night - no, the notion that she wanted Stone to touch her again, was enough to make any of his common sense or determination dissolve like a snowflake on her warm palm.

At that moment, Keeva’s proposition seemed like a good idea. The perfect compromise. Words were spewing out of his mouth and he didn’t even know what he was saying. And she seemed so enthusiastic that he just couldn’t stop talking.

But the more Stone thought about it later, the more stupid it seemed. How the hell was he supposed to handle this?

How do you have casual sex with someone who makes you feel like this?

They were on tour through the entirety of April and even though they were in the same room - same bed every night, New York never repeated. Keeva usually went to sleep when Stone was already half out of it and when he woke up, she was already out of bed - often even out of the room.

At times it even felt like she was punishing him for leaving her that one time.

At first, Stone had pondered that maybe ‘one more night’ would shut his gluttony up and make the burning in his stomach disappear, but he knew far too many junkies to know that that was bullshit. There was always gonna be another ‘one more night’. But the ‘one more night’ hadn’t come yet.

As time passed, Stone settled on the fact that he’d agreed to it, there was no way back now and he was dying to have her so close to him again, now that he had this weird pass. And yet, he still couldn’t find a viable excuse to seduce her again.

Four months and the right opportunity never came.

He needed a reason. He couldn’t just come up to Keeva and whisk her away, that would be suspicious.

How the fuck do you have sex with someone without making them aware that you wanna have sex with them?

He envied Keeva’s excuse.

Yeah, I’m a virgin and I need my best friend to be the one who fucks me first - oh, no worries, it’s just a trust thing, it’s not like I love you.

But Stone couldn’t say that. After the Mormon, he never had a reason to have sex. He didn’t need one, he just liked the way it felt so he did it. Often. And there was never any other motive than just being turned on and having a hot person nearby who wanted him, too.

Stone had no idea how to operate with the thought of fucking someone to satiate love instead of lust.

Jesus, I’m such a fucking slut.

Oh. Oh, maybe that could be my excuse. I’m just a slut.

Come here, Baby. Oh, why? No reason. You’re here, I’m here - let’s bang.

He was so sick and tired of the guitar he’d been clutching for hours now. As always, Stone sat down with it as soon as he came home, trying to sweat out anything that he could bring to the table.

For some reason, Keeva seemed a bit stunted, too.

The few times they tried to bring something new in, it just wasn’t genuine enough. It didn’t have the heart he’d desired. Stone’s inner feelings suddenly seemed so raw and strong that he couldn’t even channel them into music. And even if he could, he knew it wouldn’t get a warm response.

That just wasn’t the kind of band they were.

Andy was always calling the shots - rightfully so, as the genius frontman slash lyrical engine.

Jeff was, on top of his groovy bass lines and complete art direction, pretty concerned about the technical stuff around the management of the band and his progressive ideas didn’t get much appreciation, either.

And Greg and Bruce, as fantastic of musicians as they were, just didn’t seem to have as much enthusiasm as Stone needed to be pushed to do his best.

He and Keeva were still writing, but it just wasn’t it when it was mixed with the other instruments.

After the year-plus of being together, he felt like they were hardly functioning as a band anymore - at least what Stone imagined a band should be.

They were working over and over on the same material they’d written in the first bursts of creativity when they got together and the passion was slowly but surely fizzling out - the record contract was already stepping on their throats and they haven’t even finished the first record yet.

Yes, Stone had some material, but it was so dark and primal that he didn’t feel comfortable baring his mind in front of everyone, especially when his soul was the most fragile it had ever been. And the guys, even though they were his friends, just wouldn’t get it.

She would be the only one to understand, but he couldn’t share it with her either.

His soul was split into pieces because of her, after all.

He wondered if Keeva felt the same - sometimes, he’d hear her noodling around upstairs and they were such haunting melodies that it made his heart sink. But they never left the confines of her room.

And Stone couldn’t write without her. It was their joint passion that made the best songs - but most of them were so rough that they couldn’t be shown to the guys without prickly comments and getting shunned immediately.

But he’d had enough, though. Of her, of himself, of this band, of this weird limbo they were floating in. He was going to snap them both out of it and he would do it today, no matter what it took. Stone needed her and if this was the only way to spark creativity, he would do it.

This strong resolute flew out of the window as soon as Keeva’s head popped into the door, a heated flush colouring her cheeks bright red.

“Ugh!” she groaned and slammed the door behind her, throwing her worn-out backpack to the floor. She immediately beelined to the kitchen corner to take a beer out of the fridge without even taking a look at him. “So I had the greatest day at work today. Only got yelled at once, can you believe that? Didn’t foam the milk enough. Who even buys hot coffee in this weather, anyway?”

Keeva hopped up on the counter, slotted the tip of the bottle between the fridge and the cupboard and yanked - the cap soundlessly fell to the carpeted floor, but she didn’t seem to care about littering at all. She just took a big gulp and then pressed the dewy green glass against her forehead.

Stone wouldn’t hold himself back anymore. The heat her body was radiating crept across the room and reached all the way to his skin. And he wanted more of it. Desperately.

Your friend is a slut, sweetheart. Nothing more, nothing less. No feelings, no reason. You wanted casual, you’ll have casual.

He carefully laid his guitar on the floor and stood up, sticking his hands into his pockets. Keeva was still shaking her head with her eyes closed and icing her sunburnt skin, oblivious to his careful steps towards her.

“Oh, and Kelly called. The Plant can apparently book us the house they talked about, so we’ll g-”

She trailed off when she finally looked up. She jumped a bit - from her point of view, Stone had just teleported across the room. For him, it was just a couple of strides - the slow and cautious tempo could be easily mistaken for confidence.

He watched Keeva like a hawk as he walked by - deliberately as close as he could without touching her - and then leaned his back on the wooden pillar that supported the attic stairs. He folded his arms and casually crossed his legs, still challenging her to a staring contest. She frowned.

“What’s up?” she shrugged.

Stone basked in her confusion, slowly raising an eyebrow. It made him feel more and more sure of his plan.

God, I make myself sick.

Keeva opened her mouth, closed it and opened it again, shaking her head. Now she seemed to be getting irritated.

“What did I say?” she questioned and wiped a bead of sweat that was running down her temple with the wet bottle. Stone didn’t respond.

He just pushed himself off the stairs and walked across the small corridor, stopping right in front of her. Keeva backed away a bit, but he could tell that he caught her curiosity, because she kept her eyes on his as if she was trying to read his mind through them. It made him shudder inside.

There were two features that Stone always felt self-conscious about - the huge alien eyes and the huge alien fingers. But there was something in the way Keeva always studied both that made him confident enough to irritate her with them. Be it brashly staring, tickling, poking or flicking.

And the stupid deal opened up an abundance of new ways to put that weird fascination of hers to use.

He slipped the bottle out of her hands and, without leaving her puzzled eyes, took a big drink. As Keeva raised an eyebrow, Stone slotted the bottle back into her grasp and leaned on the counter, arms tightly close to the sides of her hips.

Her lips parted and she hummed a strange noise of confusion when he tipped his head, darting across her face.

Stone was praying that she wouldn’t call his confidence bluff - he could barely breathe. His heart was beating so hard that he was worried it would jump out of his throat.

He carefully leaned closer and nudged Keeva’s nose with his own to make her turn her head to the side - when her lips moved far away enough from him to deem the temptation safe, he pressed a soft wet kiss on her sweaty cheekbone.

“Uh,” she shakily cleared her throat and blinked a few times. “What’s the occasion?”

No occasion. Just like you wanted.

Stone nudged her face further to the side - her lips were still too close. Close enough for his mind to drop the frail guard it held up against its own thoughts.

I love you.

Fuck.

“I’m bored.”

His voice came out just as blank as he wanted. He didn’t have any time to be proud of himself, though, because Keeva immediately fought back by trying to look back at him. She scoffed.

“And that’s my business how?”

She let out a suppressed sigh when Stone nudged her nose again, making her turn away.

“You’re in my way,” he murmured with a shrug and slowly nuzzled Keeva’s skin when a leftover drop of water ran down her face and fell on the tip of his nose, swiping the cold liquid across her cheek.

She shivered - he was about to write it off as her being ticklish, but then Stone noticed that she shifted in her seat and clutched the bottle tighter.

“Jesus. Your flirting skills are just off the roof, mate,” she shook her head with a strained chuckle and took a drink. His cockiness was clearly pissing her off, but he knew her enough to read between the lines.

“I’m not flirting,” he slightly backed away and tipped his head to the side again, trying to agitate her further by staring. “I’m stating a fact.”

“Okay, okay,” Keeva snickered and shuffled forward to hop down. He was completely caging her, though. “Can I go wash my hands now?”

Stone shrugged and gripped the counter tighter to underline that he had no intention of letting her go anywhere.

“I don’t know, can you?” he squinted. “Are you asking me for permission?”

She sharply scoffed, clearly half-assed in her attempt to push him away with her knees.

“Don’t act like it doesn’t get you bricked up.”

He inched away further to take a better look at her. Even though her deep voice was once again the one of a confident smart-ass, Keeva was studying the piece of ceiling that peeled around the lightbulb above them. So adamant about looking anywhere but his eyes.

She was just trying to seem composed and she was trying really hard.

Stone tutted.

“I don’t need you to feed my ego. I can do that well enough myself.”

“No shit,” she shook her head and reached out, pressing the freezing bottle to his neck, right on his wildly beating artery.

It was baffling how fast Keeva managed to make his bravado disappear every single time he tried to push on her - as soon as the glass touched his skin, Stone twitched and let out a poorly stifled gasp. Regrettably for him - a clear gesture that he was, in fact, still human.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you’re trying to seduce me,” she breathed out, a smirk cracking her wannabe disinterested attitude.

Stone quickly composed himself and moved closer again, dragging his lips along her jawline and up to her ear. He let out a breathy chuckle, tickling her flushed skin.

“Uh-oh. My bad,” he hummed, lifting his index finger to point at her chest. Keeva’s head quickly darted down - he sharply flicked her nose and pulled away, tilting his head to the side again. “Don’t wanna send the wrong message.”

She flinched at the unexpected sting and finally looked at Stone, giving him a sardonic scowl.

“Do you always talk this much?”

Stone nonchalantly shrugged and pushed himself off the counter so he could hook his fingers on her belt. He pulled her closer with one harsh tug.

His legs were shaking, but he felt bold enough to fist the fabric of her tank top and drag it out of the waistband of her jeans, lifting it enough to snake his hands under it.

“Depends,” he smirked, running his knuckles across her skin. “If you give it good enough, I shut up every once in a while.”

To his mortification, Keeva didn’t laugh. And her sigh wasn’t as euphoric as he’d hoped, either.

Her half-lidded gaze and ragged breaths might’ve indicated that she was slowly disappearing into a different plane of existence, but when she spoke, her firm tone was as cold and caustic as it could be.

Now she was turned on and upset.

“God. I’m amazed that you managed to go through half of this city. How could they all stand you?”

Keeva was the funniest human he’d ever met. But, as if one couldn’t exist without the other, she was also the most cruel when she wanted to be. Stone didn’t have it in him to fault her for that. He had no right.

Because his cruelty exceeded hers.

What the fuck did I… You’re in my way? If you give it good enough? I’m bored?!

Just a few moments ago, he was the one literally pushing Keeva’s face as far away as he could.

Fuck. What if - oh, fuck. She must think that I don’t even find her attractive enough to look at her. Fuck. Fuck.

He was so deeply caught up in his own hubris, so buried in the dumb routine that he didn’t even realize that it could seriously hurt her.

“I don’t give a flying fuck about half of the city,” Stone breathed out, already out of air before she even touched him. “How can you stand me?”

He bent down to rest his flaming forehead on the nape of her neck, pressing feather-soft kisses on her collarbone.

He had no idea how to telegraph the overwhelming shame he felt, so he’d hoped to God that she would understand this chaste gesture of apology.

He would go to war for the little laugh she let out while running her fingers through his hair.

“No idea. But I think I’m doing pretty well so far.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

[tryskomys]

Wet Sand

Stone Gossard x OC

Chapter 14 - Doing All Right

Summary: that’s a part of the nda you wanted.

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

notes: tadaaa, we got to the aftermath™. this one rly depends on your pov - schrödinger’s tryskomys chapter, if you will. it might be fluffy, might be angsty, might be bittersweet - or maybe a plethora of all of these. you’ll only find out once you come inside - unlike stone, because he values safe sex. okay, that one was a bit uncalled for, i’ll stop now.

tws: i mean, i don’t think there are any today. maybe fresh injuries. and talking about sex, but we’re all human beings here - when are we *not* talking about it?

oh, and some easter eggs pointing to the fact that stone is a convicted freak. to those who have seen the infamous shoe incident and the lollapalooza spanking: yeah, i can’t believe that footage exists, either. and to those who haven’t: do not look it up, please. or do, i don’t know, i’m not your mom. but if i was, i’d tell you not to look it up. you might learn something earth-shattering about yourself.

song:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

When Keeva woke up, she immediately felt like she’d just stuck her head into a running washing machine. The sunlight that peeked through the window was way too bright for April - but maybe her brain was just making it appear like a summer blaze to spite her.

Or it could’ve been the stitches in her forehead.

Yeah, that’s probably it.

When Keeva shuffled with an uncomfortable groan, the bed loudly creaked under her - much more than her own back home. Then she realized that she was, in fact, not in her bed.

She blinked a few times and looked around the lousy room to make sure that she didn’t dream this place up. But it was real.

The same ragged armchair, the same ugly carpet, the same mattress that was about as comfortable as sleeping on a slab of concrete.

Although, it was a bit lighter than when Keeva fell asleep. She knew why within a split second, but she still turned her head next to her as slowly and cautiously as she could, fearing that she would be right.

Empty.

Just one or two fallen-out brown hair on the pillow to reassure her that she did not dream him up, either. Keeva shivered when the bed sheets tickled her naked body - they weren’t even nearly as soft as his skin. She had to fight tears when the implication hit her.

He’s not here. He didn’t stay. He woke up and saw me and left.

She was trying very hard to stay determined. She wanted this. This was what she planned, wrecked her brain over it a million times and then willingly decided to do - and when the moment came, she initiated it.

So why does it hurt so bad?

Keeva’s whole body was on fire. She assumed that it would be even if she didn’t get beat up and didn’t spend six hours sitting on the dirty emergency room floor.

Somehow, though, the pain felt good. It made her feel more alive than she’d ever felt before.

When she looked around the room again to check if Stone wasn’t hiding somewhere to jump out at her, her eyes fell on a little folded note propped up on the chipped bedside table.

It was just a simple piece of paper with the hotel logo in the corner, but it nearly made her heart jump out of her ribcage. She snatched it with wide eyes, immediately recognizing the handwriting.

Went downstairs for a blunt & coffee. That’s an invite, by the way.

- beanpole

The B and E in the signature had a strange shape, thicker than the other letters. It almost looked like it used to be an L and an O.

But then again, Keeva’s state of mind was so compromised that she had no idea what was real and what was wishful thinking.

A wave of yesterday’s memories washed over her as she rested her head on the pillow again and clutched the note to her chest.

She didn’t even try to fight the burning blush that flooded her cheeks when she rolled over and buried her face in the fabric.

She took a deep breath of the warm scent it still carried.

Let’s pretend like he’s still here. Just a few more minutes.

For some reason, the bathroom didn’t have a mirror, so she couldn’t even check how colourful the wounds on her face were. It hurt like hell, though, now that the brain fog was slowly dissolving.

Keeva’s first instinct was to hop into the tiny shower, but then she remembered that she already did.

They did.

“Wait, no! No tickling, stop it!”

“You’re naked, what else am I supposed to do? You’re waving a red blanket in front of my face and that blanket is your ass. Which is really nice, by the way. Really nice. What a shame that you - hold still or you’ll fall! - that you hide it under those fucking dungarees all the time.”

“Stop tickling me, Romeo, and keep your hands off my ass! Eeeek, back off!”

“It’s just staring right at me, I gotta put my energy somewhere. It’s tickling or spanking, choose your poison!”

“Don’t you dare, y- OW! Nooooo-OW! Stop it, Stoney! Fuck, stop - ow! Don’t sp- OW! Stop or I’ll spank your ass like it’s never been spanked before!”

“Tough shit, I might like it. Maybe I’m into some weird shit and you have no idea. I would lick the soles of your boots if you begged hard enough -”

“Fucking hell, eugh, you disgus-OW! No - more - spanking!”

“Alright, tickling it is then!”

They laughed. They laughed so hard they couldn’t breathe. They laughed so hard they had to sit down so they wouldn’t slip.

So why does this hurt so bad?

Stone’s duffle bag was gone - he must’ve already packed up and taken it with him. They only had a few hours to get to DC, so she tried to pack as quickly as she could.

She didn’t even have time to unpack in the first place, so she was ready in a few minutes.

Keeva would’ve loved to just sit in the holey armchair and stay locked in the room forever, but she had to go down at some point. So she picked out some clean laundry, threw it on and decided to brave through the inevitable.

Her clothes from yesterday were scattered all around the room.

Stone was as gentle, sweet and attentive of a lover as one could ever be. But she’d noticed that a couple of times throughout the night, he had a sudden burst of raw brashness that was a lot more in tune with his usual sly personality.

As if he was trying to hold himself back, cracked for a moment and then went back to being cool and reserved.

Undressing her like a starved animal and mindlessly throwing the clothes away in all directions was one of those façade cracks.

Even though she had no other comparison, she knew that Stone had already shown her the best time she could ever have, thanks to his head-spinning finesse - that no one would ever come close to him.

But she’d be lying to herself if she wasn’t interested in finding out what else he can do when he really lets himself go. In fact, just the simple thought of it made her legs turn into jello.

Too bad this is never gonna happen again. He couldn’t even look at you in the morning, that’s why he left.

He changed his mind and it took him just one night with you.

Keeva grabbed her t-shirt from yesterday and just stared at it for a few minutes, a sad frown twisting her face. It was the one Stone made for her, stained with blood all over - she doubted that it would ever be possible to wash off.

With a frustrated sigh, she threw it in a spare plastic bag and stuffed it into her big backpack, next to the panties and socks.

Lastly, she grabbed Stone’s note, put it in the chest pocket of her fleece argyle shirt and left the room without turning back.

There was a lone dirty mirror in the hallway - and she looked terrible.

Shit. This looks even more painful than it is.

The sliced forehead had a bruise along the stitches, as did Keeva’s cheek and her slightly torn lip. However, her dark circles somehow looked less deep today.

With a big sigh, she tried to put on a few varying types of smiles - none of them looked even mildly genuine, so she shook her head and gave her reflection a middle finger.

The crisp breeze felt like a punch to the face in contrast with the stale air of the hotel room. It tickled her wounds and that wasn’t very comfortable. There was a little coffee shop right next to the hotel, so Keeva guessed that he would be there.

She lightly slapped her cheeks a few times before walking in.

And there he was - wearing the bright yellow sweatshirt that she loved to borrow from him, his worn-out leather jacket on top and the jeans that were getting progressively more ripped every time he wore them.

The half ponytail was slowly becoming Stone’s signature hairstyle, now that his hair grew out into long brown waves. Lately, he started wearing it more and more often and she found it irresistibly smug and charming.

On top of it looking remarkably hot, he always made her day better with his bizarre choices of colours and textures of the ties. Today, he neatly secured it with the thin turquoise hair tie he stole from her.

He must’ve grabbed it from the bedside table on his way out of the room - just where he put it after he gently untied her curls loose to play with them in agonizingly slow caresses.

Keeva wondered if this was supposed to be some kind of a gesture - maybe a hint at her stupid joke from a year ago. She highly doubted that that was his train of thought because he had the memory of a goldfish. But she definitely remembered.

‘Thou shalt belongest to the wench whose scrunchie thou wearest on thy wrist.’

Stone was casually sipping on a cup of coffee as if he had no care in the world. Even the intimidatingly big purple bruise on his cheekbone looked less poignant thanks to the careless aura around him, as did the large scab on the bridge of his nose.

He looked up from his cup right when he heard the bell ring as she walked in. As soon as their eyes met, he broke into a small reserved smile.

Before Keeva could take another step towards him, though, she felt an arm around her shoulder that appeared out of nowhere. She’d never been so disappointed to see Greg. He had a coffee in his hand, face twisted in a worried frown.

“Morning, Keeks,” he said, affectionately tickling her cheek with his thumb. “How are you feeling?”

“Hey, princess,” she chuckled and softly pushed the back of his neck down while stepping on her tiptoes to see the big bump on the top of his head. “Been worse, how about you?”

Keeva deliberately ignored Stone’s cough.

“Been worse,” Greg shrugged and nodded towards Stone. “Turns out I should’ve been a boxer, unlike this scrawny sack of bones.”

She subconsciously followed Greg’s movement - Stone darted away before she could see his eyes, choosing to stare into the table instead.

For a second, he seemed a bit sheepish, but then he tucked a stray strand of hair back into his ponytail and got back to his cool attitude.

“What can I say. I’m a lover, not a fighter.”

On any other day, that would’ve made Keeva giggle. Not at that moment, though. Greg, on the other hand, found it so amusing that he loudly laughed.

“Yeah, we can both clearly see that, baby boy.”

“What’s cracking, friends?” Andy cheeped when he walked in, rubbing his palms together as he turned to the girl behind the counter. “Morning, miss. Can I have a coffee on the road, please? Milkless.”

The waitress looked a bit worried - he was the third beaten-up person to walk into her coffee shop in a span of about thirty minutes. She was clearly an experienced Bronx resident, though, so she wordlessly nodded and poured him a small to-go cup without further questions.

Greg headed to sit next to Stone, which erased any hope of Keeva’s to talk to him alone.

Meanwhile, Andy slapped some coins on the counter and thanked the waitress before making his way to his short friend with a growing frown.

“Pooky?” he said as they both walked to the table side by side. He put the coffee down and took her head in his palms, turning her from left to right. “Pooks, let me take a look at you.”

“Why?” Keeva chuckled. Her eyes once again failed her and darted in Stone’s direction, who was staring at her too, clearly ignoring Greg’s rambling about the driving schedule.

He snapped away as soon as he’d noticed her, though.

“Hmm, you seem…different,” Andy mumbled, squinting when he inched a bit closer as if she had small letters written on her forehead and he was struggling to read them.

She raised an eyebrow and pushed down a dry swallow.

“Uh, I got punched in the face, Andy. That might be it,” she said, trying to sound resolute, but Andy frowned even deeper.

“No, no, no,” he vehemently shook his head. “Not look different. Seem different.”

This time she managed to keep her eyes on Andy, but she could see in her peripheral that Stone was the one to take a peek at them this time.

And with the way he shuffled in his seat and ran his hand through his hair, he was clearly uncomfortable at the notion of Andy suspecting anything.

“I - uh…again, I got punched in the face, sorry if I’m a bit cranky,” she forced herself to roll her eyes and put on a bothered face. Andy’s eyebrows knitted again and he put his hands on her shoulders to turn her around.

“Hm. What are ya up to, greenie?” he questioned when Keeva did a 360. She cleared her throat to get rid of the strain in her voice and then tried to be nonchalant by leaning against the table.

She didn’t calculate her move very well, though, and put her hand too close to Stone - the tips of their pinkies touched and a small static shock snapped upon the impact.

She suspected it was because of her woollen sweater. It always caused her hair to stand up and crackle. But it might as well have been just the tempest that was surging through her thanks to feeling his skin again.

He was wearing his trusty fingerless gloves - he’d had them ever since they’d met. Probably long before her, too, considering all the clumps of wool and threads sticking out of them.

But his calloused skin was still cold as ice.

Stone’s arm twitched - she couldn’t tell if it was because of the sudden contact or the static, but he didn’t move away. Neither did she - she didn’t want to be any more obvious.

“Pft,” she tried to focus on Andy again. “Let’s see…I wanted to get coffee instead of tea for breakfast, could be that. You’ve arrived just in time for a historical event, sleepyhead.”

Andy hummed - he was clearly having none of it.

“You slept good?” he squinted at her and folded his arms.

Ever since Keeva woke up, she felt like she had no control over her body - her eyes quickly snapped to Stone once again. Thankfully, he was fixated on his coffee.

“I did,” she simply said and hoped that her blush wasn’t too bright.

“You did?!” Andy gasped and made Greg and Stone turn their heads.

“First time?” Greg cheerfully asked and put his arm around her waist, dragging her down to sit with them.

Keeva’s eyes popped open. Stone was just taking a sip from his cup when he snorted into the coffee, making it splash on his chin and far up his nose.

“Wh- no?!” she yelped as Stone wiped his mouth with a snicker. He clearly tried to play it off as laughing at her outraged tone, so she tried to follow his suit and quickly compose herself. “I mean, I guess. Probably, yeah. I think I haven’t slept this long since second grade.”

Stone’s smile grew even wider and he tilted his head down to hide it, the tips of his ponytail falling in front of his eyes like a curtain. His hair looked so wavy today - it drove her mad.

“Well, eureka!” Andy clapped and sat down, too. “New York is good for you. I’m very honoured to be a part of this monumental affair.”

“What monumental affair?” Jeff’s voice appeared at the door.

Keeva could properly see his black eye for the first time - it wasn’t too bad, though. He was built like a brick wall and clearly experienced in dodging punches. She figured that he probably had a couple of notches on his street fight belt, considering he grew up in the middle of nowhere.

“Pooky’s had a good night’s sleep,” Andy explained and rested his head on the windowsill behind him.

“No way!” Jeff gasped, breaking into a toothy grin as he rushed to their table. Keeva theatrically flipped her hair - a move that, for a reason unknown to her, made Stone raise his head again and shift in his seat.

“Yep! I swept in and asked if she slept well and she said: ‘I did.’” Andy said, deepening his voice while doing a bad parody of her accent.

Now she could finally examine everyone up close. All the guys looked like they got into a fight, except for Stone. He looked like there was no fight at all - more like someone just simply beat the absolute shit out of him.

When she was only half-conscious, he seemed to be doing pretty well. Thinking back, that was probably just her wishful thinking. He was surely brave enough that it tricked her, though.

Blood was literally streaming out of Stone’s nose and mouth, but he still found the energy to scream insults - some of which she barely knew existed - left and right.

Also, she could swear she saw him straight up headbutt someone in the face with full strength. That was probably the moment he broke his nose.

The fact that she found the scene so incredibly hot was a concept so shameful to her that she prayed it was just her mild concussion speaking - for both her sake and his.

“Bruce started the van, we should dip,” Jeff tore her out of her thoughts when he slapped the table. “If you’re all packed up, I’ll go and do the checkout - could you grab me a coffee to go, Keeks?”

Keeva managed to quickly shake off her lapse of attention and rested her chin on her palm with a dreamy sigh.

“Anything for the angel walking among us. We’re not worthy,” she pouted.

“Yeah, yeah, you can thank me on the way, smart-ass,” Jeff scoffed and ruffled her hair before jogging to the exit. “We gotta stop for fuel, too, so move your butts. Chop-chop.”

● ● ● ● ● ●

“Ugh, I would kill for a Coke right now,” Keeva groaned when they parked next to the gas tank. She stuck her head out of the window and pointed at the gas station building a few feet away. “And I don’t wanna kill any of you, so I’ll be right back.”

Multiple orders of chips, candy and cans of whatever echoed through the van as she hopped out, along with Jeff’s ever-so-responsible: “You’ve got exactly five minutes, greenie, then we’re leaving without you!”

“At least you’d finally learn how to tune your own bass, babes!” she called after him and headed for the building.

She could hear Jeff’s mocking laugh over the crunching gravel under her feet, along with Stone’s still extra nasally voice when he got out of the van as well.

“I would kill for sour gummies. I’ll be right back.”

Keeva rolled her eyes as a jolt of nervous nausea stabbed her stomach.

Jesus, talk about subtle.

She heard Jeff’s muttered ‘now it’s only four minutes’ before his voice got lost in Stone’s slapping footsteps as he jogged up to her.

When he caught up, he immediately took her around the shoulders, nonchalant as always. This time, the crackling she felt discernably wasn’t from static clothing.

Keeva thought that maybe - after yesterday - all the time she wasted fantasizing about him would be erased and this intense heartburn she felt every time he touched her would finally stop.

But she had to curse her own naivité - it got much worse.

What was an even bigger gut punch, though - Stone didn’t seem to flinch at all. Careless as ever, he just affectionately squeezed her shoulder like he always did as they walked side by side.

She couldn’t decide if she was glad that he didn’t change his attitude towards her or if it hurt her ego so bad she wanted to cry.

“Morning,” he simply said - she heard a smile in his voice, but didn’t dare to look up at him. The tips of Stone’s long waves tickled her forehead, still carrying the irresistible scent he left behind on the pillow.

“Morning,” Keeva mumbled and took the opportunity to lean closer to him when she stumbled on one bigger piece of rubble - her legs felt wobbly in his presence, now more than ever.

“Slept well?” he asked and shook his hair out of his face, making the locks tickle her again. Stone’s tone was sly enough to sound like flirting.

Combined with his soapy cologne and the strawberry scent he always emanated, it made a small surge of confidence rush through her.

“Never better, actually,” Keeva smirked and raised her head - he was already looking down at her, breaking into an even bigger smile than he had before.

“Good girl,” Stone chuckled and scratched the crown of her head a few times.

He spoke the words in such a strikingly lighter tone than just a couple of hours ago, when he addressed her that way many times. They sounded so aloof now, so friendly - almost as if they were pronounced in a completely separate language.

Not to her, though. And she’d never believe that Stone had no idea that it would immediately send a buzzing shiver down her spine.

He had many faults, but stupidity wasn’t one of them.

“I’m glad,” he added.

“Glad?” Keeva scoffed, folding her arms. “You should, uh - you should be flattered instead.”

Stone might’ve been casual about it, but she could still feel some sense of excitement from him. Pride, even. She couldn’t discern if he was being cocky or genuinely thrilled, though.

“So you enjoyed yourself?” he asked, squeezing Keeva closer again.

“I did,” she shrugged, trying to emulate his coolness, but Stone’s joyful tone made her crack a wide smile.

“You did?!”

“Yeah!” Keeva nodded and the tense knot in her stomach slowly began to unwind. She nudged him with her elbow. “Did you?”

To her dismay, Stone paused. Just for a few seconds, though, as if he was trying to find the right words. He followed the silence with an even brighter smile that made up for it.

“It was amazing.”

Keeva couldn’t hold in a sigh. Stone seemed so bright and weightless that it hurt her senses, like staring into the sun for too long.

For one, she deduced that it wasn’t tormenting him as much as her and that had its own disappointing implications. And for two, she truly couldn’t fathom the possibility that he was telling the truth.

She had to hide her face before she reacted, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“I’m sorry that I was so -” she started, but Stone immediately shook his head and interrupted her.

“No, believe me, you did so good. So good. Really.”

Stone sounded so genuine he almost had her convinced. And when she turned to him again, he looked genuine, too.

Fuck. His eyes are like a fancy sparkling kaleidoscope. All-green glitter. All shades twinkling at once.

Oh no, my head is spinning. Dammit.

Jesus, is this what being on acid feels like?

The overwhelming beauty made Keeva lose her ability to think before speaking, so she couldn’t stop herself from babbling. She regretted the words as soon as they came out of her mouth.

“You know, uh, now I - I technically owe you for taking pity on me and therefore should repay you sometimes, so…”

To her surprise, Stone nodded without taking a second to think. That slightly fueled her ego - it seemed like there wasn’t much thinking involved in either of their heads.

“Sounds fair, count me in,” he said and she noticed a little giddy tremble in his voice.

Might be just the trashed nose - his voice is even more annoying now and everything he says sounds giddy and shaky. Or…

“Sounds fair, right?” she quickly retorted and squeezed her folded arms closer to her chest to stop them from shaking.

By now, she knew Stone was unmistakably happy. It was those cursed eyes of his. He reached out and poked her side with his finger.

“So we could, you know, repeat it?” Stone asked confidently, still keeping his aloof attitude. “If you’d be interested? Sometime?”

Once again, Keeva couldn’t stop herself from responding right away as the swarm of resting butterflies in her abdomen awakened and began to flutter around in circles.

“Very interested,” she said with a big smile, nodding. Stone mirrored her movement and hugged her closer.

“Great. Deal,” he chuckled and playfully ruffled her hair again as if he really wanted to drive the point home - she was still just his munchkin little shit of a roommate.

Thankfully, the conversation had to be cut there, because they reached the gas station. Meaning Keeva was naturally freed from the awkwardness that would definitely follow.

He opened the door for her, a never-fading smile still plastered on his face.

When they bought what they came for and paid for the gas, they headed back to the van and silence fell between them. And just as Keeva had expected, it was a long and incredibly awkward one.

Both of their arms were full of snacks and drinks, so Stone’s casual hug couldn’t save them this time. She side-eyed him discreetly enough so he wouldn’t notice - he was staring at his feet, studying the peeling suede leather on the tips of his Docs.

Shit. Why can’t I just read his fucking mind? Or maybe not.

Yeah, I think it’s better not to know.

Even after such a long pause, they both managed to take a breath at the same time to try and say something. They awkwardly chuckled in sync.

“Oh, you go on,” Keeva said, an uncomfortable burn settling in her cheeks. Stone shook his head, trying to whip away the few strands of his ponytail that got stuck in his mouth.

“No, you, come on,” he mumbled, waving his huge hand around.

She had to take a pause to formulate her thoughts, but there was no way to make her words sound any less dumb.

Keeva would stay silent if she didn’t know him as well as she did. But sometimes, like at this very moment, she could read his mind.

And she liked - loved Stone too much to throw the burden of having to say it out loud on him. The weight of that responsibility made her stutter even harder.

“Um, I mean - maybe let’s not, uh - let’s keep it as our little inside joke. Right? And not tell anyone. ‘Cause, you know, it’s not like we’re together or anything.”

Even though she knew how terribly hypocritical it was of her, she still couldn’t do anything but cry inside - the butterflies in her stomach stopped moving and aimlessly floated down, dead and slowly dissolving into bitter dust.

Because Stone didn’t even skip a beat with his answer.

“I love inside jokes,” he said, raising his eyebrows. Going back to the usual pattern, she couldn’t get a read on his real feelings at all. “I was about to say the same thing.”

Great.

“Great!”

“Jesus, can you imagine the outburst if they found out?” he continued with a scoff, popping his huge eyes open when he looked at her. “No way. That’s a part of the NDA you wanted.”

Now he was the one to spin into rambling.

“Plus it’s different than if we were, like, dating or something, right? Like, then I’d have no problem telling them, but we’re just having fun, aren’t we? And we can do that whenever, wherever and however we want because we’re fucking grown-ups and we’re authorized to make any decision without their dumb stupid comments, right? If we decide to fuck against a dusty vodka shelf in the corner of a room at a house party, we will fucking do it and we will take no shit from anyone. I mean, we trust each other enough to have a friendship that’s so strong that it can occasionally be sprinkled with amazing sex and it works fine because we’re both smart enough to fucking leave out stupid encumbering shit like ‘being in love’ or whatever. Basically, roundabout way of saying that our sex lives are none of their business.”

If Keeva didn’t know better, she’d think that he sounded like he was vehemently trying to convince himself, not her.

She didn’t need any convincing, though. She’d take anything that even slightly resembled his attention.

She could barely remember how her brain got to that point, but it was an insatiable feeling.

Pathetic.

As she watched Stone stumble his way through the incoherent explanation, he flapped his hands around to help himself formulate his thoughts. They were so comically big that he managed to hold four packs of chips in one of them and still wave left and right.

Even though Keeva was pretty sure that she would regret her decision sooner than later, it was once again his eyes that startled any common sense out of her.

They were still glowing - just like holding two peridot marbles to the flaming sun - and completely focused on her face.

As the butterflies slowly rose from the ashes in sync with his suspiciously oversaturated monologue, she felt a minuscule nagging feeling tingle at the back of her neck.

Something told her that he wasn’t being entirely honest - and in this single second in time, she couldn’t have wished for more if she tried.

“Right on.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

[tryskomys]

Wet Sand

Stone Gossard x OC

Chapter 13 - Mona Lisas And Mad Hatters

Summary: too late.

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

notes: warning: an extra hefty batch has been cooked in the copium lab and these two are passing that shit back and forth like a big juicy spliff.

uh. so. this is a big one. i feel like i’m force-feeding you, it’s fucking 9,1k words. and yes, yes, i know - working title is ‘tryskomys’s wonderous trope extravaganza’. i hope you’ll enjoy this as the reader meta-beings you are. you’re all invited for a game of where’s waldo (waldo = a trope) - let’s see how many you can get! gotta catch ‘em all, man. gotta catch them all.

jokes aside, this chapter is really a labour of love and some of the lines in this were the first ones i’ve written for this story. so i hope you’ll enjoy <3

tws: uh, how do i word this without spoilers…bloody injuries - squeamish folk be careful. fighting, fists. allusions to the ol’ es eggs. nothing explicit - not how we roll here. but come on, you can imagine what’s happening. bad deals (seriously, don’t do this). i’m chronically european so i may have delusional ideas about how travelling through the states works - google maps are my only friend, please don’t laugh at me xx

if you read all of that, here’s a warm forehead kiss <3

songs:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

April 4th, 1989

“Green light, Keeks! You’re going on a little tour, starting April. First stop - New York.”

“Holy shit!”

At the beginning of March, Keeva was stopping by the office of Love Bone’s manager Kelly to pick up some printed promo posters for their first EP - he immediately pulled her aside to give her the exhilarating news.

“Polygram will get you a van, it’s a little run-down but it will do,” Kelly said, tapping on a bunch of papers on his desk that had all the details on them. He handed one to her - it listed the properties of their van. Keeva didn’t understand the first shit about cars, though.

“We’d travel on a bloody wheelbarrow if it meant we could go on the road,” she chuckled and flipped the paper to check the tour dates. “God, I can’t believe it! Ahh!”

“Booked you the hotels already, the label will pay for everything,” he explained and took a drag from his cigarette with a genuinely excited grin. “Check this out - they’ll supply three rooms at every hotel -”

“Oh, shit,” she interrupted, mouth agape. “They’ve got money money.”

“Yup. Tell the guys to split into pairs,” Kelly finished the sentence and paused, clearly carefully choosing his next words. She’d noticed.

“Hm. What’s the catch?” she asked and leaned on his desk as he handed her his cigarette so she could hit it. He sucked his teeth.

“Fuck, nothing gets past you, does it?” he scoffed and took the cig back after she took a puff, a curious squint on her face. “Uh, well - they will give us three rooms because there are no other rooms. And except for Philly, San Francisco and Portland, even these rooms each have just one double bed.”

Keeva had to hold back a cackle.

Of course you were gonna hit me with that.

“Ah. You know, somehow I knew you were going to say that and I was hoping you wouldn’t,” she nodded with a tight-lipped smile and then let out a huge sigh. “But you never disappoint me, Kelly, that’s what I love about you.”

He was obviously pleading with his eyes to make Keeva spread the message to the band herself. She put a hand on Kelly’s shoulder with a mockingly consoling expression.

“I’ll make sure to tell the guys very delicately for you, no worries. I’m sure they’ll be happy to cuddle after a few nights away from home.”

Kelly visibly relaxed with a sigh and slumped his shoulders.

“You’re my shining star, babycakes,” he said and walked around the table. He took Keeva’s face in his palms, shaking her head from side to side. Sometimes he did that - squished her cheeks and turned on his lisping baby voice. “Light at the end of the tunnel. The thorniest, most majestic rose in the Garden of E-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Keeva rolled her eyes and in turn patted his shoulders. “So I’ve been told many times.”

“I’ll make sure yours and Stoney’s bed is the best,” Kelly pointed a finger in her face, gave her cheek one last squeeze and then walked back behind his desk. He sat down and started organizing the scattered papers.

“Don’t waste your time. The Ritz or the Bronx - he snores, anyway,” she nonchalantly scoffed as she gathered the posters that were stacked in the printer. But meanwhile, her heart rose all the way up to her throat.

Wait. Wait, wait, wait. One bed.

Oh, that’s bad.

Polygram might’ve been generous enough to give them an ugly van, but they couldn’t spend more money on plane tickets to get them to New York first so they could drive around the tour dates from there.

Which meant a three-day ride from Seattle across the whole States just to get to the first venue, switching at the wheel every few hours so the other could get some sleep - and there were only five of them, because Keeva never had the money or the time to get a driver’s license.

The ride was exhausting. Even though she was sitting in the front seat the whole time, Bruce had to pull over so she could go puke in a ditch three times before they even got out of Washington.

The guys in the back seemed to be having fun, though. Greg spent most of the time he wasn’t driving by sleeping, Andy brought his portable video game so he could keep his little fantasy football league rolling - Jeff was really into it, too.

Oh, Andy. He came back a few days before his birthday and he was drained. Weak, hungry, tired. Exhausted but determined - even through all that, he looked healthier than before and the tour was somewhat of a distraction for him, easing him into the dawning reality of coming back to normal life.

For his sake, there were a few rules set up before they left - no partying, no excessive drinking and hard or soft drugs in his presence, preferably not at all.

The guys seemed a bit bummed at first - it wasn’t like they were planning to get fucked up every night, but this was their first tour - everyone in their twenties, what else were they supposed to do than have a good time? And ‘a good time’ was always stereotypically tied to substances. Loosening people up, connecting. Almost a necessity to make a group of differing personalities get along, albeit for a limited amount of time.

Thankfully, they were all intelligent enough to set all the expectations and youthful recklessness aside and promised to behave for their friend.

Stone spent the whole ride reading - he was going through his Lovecraftian phase. Everything cosmic horror excited him. The fear of the unknown, the horror of silence, of colours, of what lurks in places we cannot possibly reach.

Keeva wondered if he found himself in that. The threatening of things that are personal to him - stuff that disrupts the usual, disturbing the comfortable silence that’s shared with someone important, the vast smallness and inconsequence of our existence when facing the skies.

Loneliness. Deep-seated fear. Pain.

He’d just say to her that he needs to get scared sometimes to see if he still has emotions - with that stupid smug smirk on his face.

When they arrived at the hotel and walked into their room for the first time, Keeva was genuinely taken aback.

She didn’t expect anything fancy, but this looked a bit like her parents’ flat back in London - and that was a drug den.

There was a disgustingly ragged red carpet in the middle of the room, a double bed with iron posts, a tiny bedtable next to it and one armchair in the corner, covered in holes.

The most luxurious thing about it was the little balcony next to the window - it gave them a beautiful view of the peeling wall of the building next to them.

“Well, isn’t this nice,” Stone said with an amused smile as he dropped his duffle bag next to the bed.

Keeva had to swallow a few times to push down the lump in her throat. She’d hoped that somehow, somewhere, a mistake was made and they would end up having two beds - even though she knew that was just delusional.

Fucking hell. Someone up there has really got it in for me.

“Wow, The Plaza really isn’t what I thought it would be like,” she chuckled and walked over to the window to let some fresh air into the stale room.

Sadly, the breeze wasn’t as satisfying as she thought - New York definitely had nothing on the crisp mountain air that was floating around Seattle.

Nonetheless, she inhaled a big breath and took a quick peek at Stone over her shoulder. He was searching through the bag for something.

“Uh, you wanna take the bed?” she said, her voice coming out just as meek as she’d feared. “I’m fine with the floor, it looks clean enough.”

He looked up with a smirk and continued to rummage around.

“I don’t bite, Baby,” he hummed and when he noticed Keeva’s eyes widened for a split second, he chuckled and looked away again. “Kidding, you take the bed, of course. I like sleeping on the floor. Makes me feel grounded.”

Stone clearly expected her to laugh at his stupid pun, raising his eyebrow when she just looked away and took another breath of the smoke-laced air outside.

“I mean - we can -” she stuttered out, but he shook his head and finally found his pipe and a little zip bag with a few clumps of weed buried under all the clothes. Keeva was glad that he at least had the decency to dig it in so deep - every time they passed a state border, she was so on edge that she thought she’d fall out of the open window.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Stone said without much care in his voice and threw the pipe and his book on the bed. He took a towel out of his bag and headed to the bathroom to shower. They still had a good few hours before the quick soundcheck for tonight’s show.

Keeva rested her elbows on the windowsill, watching all the stereotypical yellow taxis pass down the street below.

Picture-perfect New York. Just like she’d imagined when she was selling cheap postcards at her dodgy music shop in the dumps of Shoreditch.

Ever since the dawning thought came to her mind on that roof six months ago, she’d been scrutinized by the memory of every second spent with him.

She didn’t understand - how can you be haunted by something that is still in the process of happening?

It was like a dam broke when she allowed herself to think those words - and it was irreparable, no matter how hard she tried to rebuild it.

Suddenly, Stone was occupying her head from the moment she woke up to the moment she fell asleep at dawn. Before, she’d thought that her supposed friend was on her mind way too often.

But it was nothing compared to…this.

Every time he closed his eyes while playing, making himself miss a few notes. Every time the corner of his mouth twitched when he threw a jab her way. Every time he scratched his jaw while reading his notes in the studio. Every time he looked at her with a thoughtful frown during their lunches at Julia’s, his eyes swirling with an unreadable emotion.

Every single move he made, her brain taunted her by repeating the same sentence.

I’m in love with you.

Over…and over…and over.

Keeva felt much less cool these days. More prone to blushing at his digs, having a hard time coming up with witty quips to combat his. She was pretty certain that from an outsider’s point of view, it wasn’t too noticeable - but deep inside her bones, there was a civil war going on.

And then - somewhen along the excruciating timeline of the past months of recording the EP and spending more and more time with him due to having fewer shifts at the café - came an earth-shattering consensus of her heart and her mind: Stone’s pragmatic idea of ‘the friendly help-out’ was the only way to get rid of the silly false idea that she could actually be properly in love with him.

It would set her free of this romantic nonsense. She would do it and realize that there’s no noble feeling behind this madness. He’s just hot and rude, that’s it. They can still like each other as pals and have fun, blow off some steam. But nothing else.

That is a terrible, terrible idea.

That is actually a viable solution to all of my problems.

After pondering those two opinions back and forth from dusk to dawn, Keeva convinced herself that the second one was the right way to go.

She already felt like she was ruining their friendship by having those thoughts about him - sometimes, she thought, Stone looked at her as if he could hear them and that was the last thing she’d want to risk.

Well, if I offer this, it will send a clear message. And then he won’t suspect anything because -

Ugh, there’s nothing to suspect, shh.

He won’t feel weird about it because I’ll affirm that there is no it. And that there will be no it. Fuck, I’m not making any sense.

This building had a strange energy. She felt like she was in closer proximity to him than at home, where they were living in the same room. Maybe it was the different environment. Different state. The beginning of life on road - even if it was only a few dates now.

Keeva was thinking so loudly that she hadn’t noticed that Stone got out of the shower, put on clean clothes and walked out on the flimsy balcony. He sat down on the iron floor, clearly not caring that it was both cold and dirty.

She peeked out of the window so she could see him - the still-crispy Spring breeze flowed through his freshly washed hair. The scent of strawberries and the weed he was puffing on - that strange mixture that had grown to encompass everything he was to her - carried over to the window even through the stench of car fumes.

His nose peeked out of the curtains of damp hair that obscured the rest of his face. He rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes.

And the soft smile that appeared on his face as faint sunbeams sparkled through the clouds and shined on his face charmed Keeva so intensely that she moved away from the window and made the few challenging steps toward the balcony.

She walked out and sat opposite him with a sigh, waited for a few moments and then fixed her eyes on the wicker pattern under her feet - he looked at her with a questioning grin, but she was prepared to avoid his eyes at any cost.

Stone tried to loosen up her obvious nervousness by jokingly offering her a puff, fully expecting her to throw him one of her looks and do something like kick his shin. So, he jumped a bit when she actually reached for the pipe, raised it to her lips and took a big hit.

Keeva would’ve loved to see his expression when she handed it back, but she valued her already fleeting confidence more.

Fuck it.

“You know, I’ve been kind of thinking about that whole, uh, proposal of yours.”

She didn’t lift her eyes, but she could tell that Stone paused for a double-take between her and his pipe.

“Huh?” he said, curious and confused.

Keeva held her breath as she thought her next words through.

“You know, how you said that you’d help,” she said softly, still adamant about not looking at him. He sat back and laid his hands in his lap, spreading his legs. She’d noticed that he started picking on his nails.

“I’m lost.”

He really did sound lost, but as always, there was a hint of tease in his voice that could’ve been interpreted as taunting.

“I mean - uh, that friendly help-out thing?” she peeped out, squeezing her eyes closed as she finally lifted her head. “That you said we could do anytime we needed?”

Keeva opened one eye to see Stone’s surprised face, his expression going from a confused frown to a reserved smile.

God. He wasn’t teasing.

“Oh. Uh, sure. Sure, I mean…” he stuttered out, clearly taken aback. “Fuck, you good?”

This is bad.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? Sorry, I -” she started and felt her determination gush out of her ears as if her head was a broken hydrant. “- it was just a stupid question, forget about it. No worries, really.”

I’ll be leaving to bury myself alive now, bye.

“No, the offer still stands. I’m just surprised,” he chuckled and took a puff, quickly going back to his ever-so-cool attitude. “I thought that we’d established that that’s not ever happening, so what’s going on?”

Keeva blinked a few times to digest his words.

Shit. I didn’t think he was going to question it.

“Um…it’s just - there’s, like, a guy that I like and, you know, if something happens I don’t wanna look like a clueless idiot in front of him,” she lied through her teeth, giving him a cramped smile.

Please believe me. Please believe me.

“Uh, right,” Stone squinted at her, slowly breaking into a smirk.

He doesn’t believe me.

“Jeez, what kind of a best friend are you? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he continued, nudging her leg with his foot. She quickly tucked her knees under her chin to get out of his reach - she wanted to keep at least the few remaining bits of her dignity.

Best friend.

“I - didn’t wanna jinx it,” she mumbled. Stone just nodded.

“Who’s the lucky guy?”

Keeva had to push back an eye-roll.

That’s not the point and you know it, dickhead.

“Met him at The Ditto. You don’t know him,” she explained and folded her arms to hide her flinch.

He knows everybody. Shit.

“Oh. Phew,” Stone whistled. “So he’s an out-of-town? What’s his name?”

This was quickly spinning into an interrogation she did not appreciate. On one hand, he had a right to ask his questions, but knowing him - he already read her like a book. Keeva was a terrible liar and he knew that very well.

“Yeah, uh, K-Kentucky. Jed from Kentucky.”

Stone snorted.

“Jed from Kentucky?” he repeated with raised eyebrows and put a strand of his wet hair behind his ear. I’m in love with you. “Didn’t know you were into hicks, I would’ve tried my redneck accent on you. People say it’s indistinguishable from the real deal.”

“That wouldn’t work because, unlike you, he’s hot,” she spat back with a taunting frown. He wasn’t having any of it, though.

“Ouch, you’re giving me a whiplash,” he chuckled and theatrically threw his head back, accidentally bumping into the wall with a thud. “Didn’t you just say you wanna have sex with me, like, thirty seconds ago?”

Keeva’s cheeks grew so red that she actually feared a vein would burst under her skin. She rolled her eyes and banged her forehead against her knees a few times. She had holes in her denim overalls and her legs was pleasantly cold, unlike her face.

“Describe him then, maybe I just don’t recognize him by name,” he kept pushing and now she was certain he was just fucking with her. It was written all over his smug face.

“He’s, uh…”

Her brain froze on a single set of features long ago. Almost like she wasn’t able to recall any other ones existing anymore. No matter how hard she tried, she could never see anything else.

Brown waves, huge green eyes, elven nose. Pale, gangly and a self-righteous prick.

“He’s, uh, blonde,” she mumbled, snapping away from his face. “Blue eyes, little button nose, kinda tan. Sweet guy.”

Nailed it.

Stone gave her a slow praising nod, humming.

“Solid choice, Baby,” he said and dragged his leg up, resting his elbow on his knee. I’m in love with you. “I might not be a good training wheel for that, though. Quite the opposite. You sure that we’re on the same page here?”

Oh, come on.

“I, uh…fucking hell, Stone,” Keeva sighed and dropped her arms in frustration, finally snapping. “Stop grilling me, ‘kay? You know I just wanna try it out. If you’re not up for it, I completely get it, but I’m already dying from embarrassment here so stop doing this whole fucking Stoney thing you do.”

“What Stoney thing?” he innocently asked and had to bite his cheek to hold back a laugh.

“This!” she groaned and stretched out to repeatedly slap his arm. “Acting - like - you’re - clueless - while - you - laugh - in - my - fucking - face!”

“Sorry, sorry, yield!” Stone giggled and shuffled away, running his hand through his hair again. I’m in love with you. “Couldn’t resist, come on. I can’t just let it slide without fucking with you a bit. Of course I’m up for it.”

Of course I’m up for it.

“You are?” she frowned as the weight of the moment finally hit her. She didn’t even realize she was holding her breath almost the entire time.

“Sure, why wouldn’t I be? Already offered it, too,” he shrugged as if all of this didn’t phase him at all.

“Yeah. But I thought you, like, changed your mind or something,” she said and reached out, taking the pipe from him to take another hit. “Got sick of me and all that, now that I’m not fresh meat.”

Now she could enjoy the way Stone’s jaw dropped - at her gesture or her prickly comment, she didn’t know. But it was adorable, nonetheless.

“Fresh meat?” he questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, I didn’t realize your attention span was so solid. Kinda impressed,” she nodded and handed back the pipe. He scoffed.

“You’re a sardonic little shit and you look like a Gelfling. How could I get sick of that?”

The sincerity in his voice hit Keeva right in the stomach, melting her from the inside like a laser beam. She could do nothing but hide her wide grin by resting her head on her knees again. A few moments of silence passed before Stone cleared his throat.

“So is there a Jed from Kentucky or…”

“I hate you,” she lamented and couldn’t help but start laughing as the tension slowly left her muscles. He joined her, slapping his knees.

“Just making sure I’m not stepping on any redneck toes here,” he raised his palms in defence with a shrug. She groaned.

“Ugh. Fuck. Me.”

“Yeah, I think that’s the theory,” he said when the laughter died down, a sly smile still resting on his face.

Keeva chuckled and then the air started getting heavy again. The high of finally getting this off her chest started fading and the realization of started weighing on her shoulders, making her physically slump.

What the fuck have I done?

“Just, uh…just come up to me when you’re ready, okay?” Stone interrupted the creeping silence, his voice as soft as a feather. “Whenever you want. I’ll wait.”

She wouldn’t dare to look at him, just giving him a nod and a silent ‘thanks’.

“There’s just a few points to go through,” he added, a bit more serious. It felt like it was dawning on him, too.

Keeva raised her eyebrows with an amused grin, trying to lighten the situation.

“Jesus, you’re so professional it’s frightening. Is this a blood pact?” she lunged forward, putting her hand over her mouth. “Do I have to sign a contract? Like an NDA or something?”

Stone mocked a laugh and shook his head in disapproval.

“If you ask nicely, I will print one out for you,” he replied and reached out to flick her nose. She hummed.

“Maybe we’ll find it in the Ten Commandments. ‘Thou shalt not spreadest the word of Stone’s obscene cock size -’”

“I appreciate your sentiments, but please shut your piehole for a second,” he shot back, shaking his head again when she stifled a laugh.

“I just can’t take you seriously, you’re so fucking dramatic -”

“First things first,” he interrupted her again, clearly growing a bit irritated at her nervous rambling. “I’m tested and disease-free, just so you know.”

“Yeah, Stoney, I figured,” she said with a soft smile. It wasn’t like she didn’t expect Stone to be serious about it, but the softness of his approach still sent a warm wave through her body.

“Just putting it out there,” he shrugged and started counting on his fingers. “Second, I try my best, but I’m not clairvoyant, believe it or not. So you have to tell me to stop when you want me to stop. It’s okay to say ‘no’. I need you to say ‘no’. Otherwise, it could mess you up real bad and that’s not happening on my watch.”

Christ. This is really going to happen one day, isn’t it?

Keeva tried to shoo away the anxiety by joking - as per usual.

“Thought we were gonna have sex, not go into a battlefield.”

“Same thing,” Stone said and took a quick puff, ignoring how her eyes widened. She knew that he had a problem with joking to avoid stress, too, but... “Third, I don’t know if you’re taking pills -”

She scoffed.

“I’m a virgin and I’m poor.”

“Right,” he shook his head after a small pause. “Either way, wrapper it is, always. We don’t need any more Stoneys running around this shithole planet.”

“Uh,” she cleared her throat. “I beg to differ.”

“Shush,” he hissed and bit his tongue to hide a smile. He took a longer pause now. Heavier than the last one, which made her shudder. “One final thing. I don’t do ki-”

“Kissing.”

Stone blinked a few times and shuffled in his seat, clearly taken aback when Keeva finished his sentence. His lips tightened into a thin line - she was fairly surprised at his shock.

“You think I haven’t noticed?” she said, giving him a small chuckle. “You might not remember, but virginity doesn’t make you blind, you know.”

Silence.

“You okay with it?” he asked and she could swear she heard a smidge of insecurity in his voice.

Okay is a relative term. Disappointed would be more accurate.

“No kisses, no attachment, no hearts broken. Makes sense,” she shrugged and cautiously watched as Stone sat back, his eyebrow slightly twitching.

“Yeah?”

No.

“Yeah.”

If Keeva didn’t know better, she would’ve taken his sigh as awkward frustration. But Andy’s wise words from all that time ago echoed through her mind. Sometimes girls mistake his sarcasm for flirting.

“Good. Great,” he said, mirroring her polite smile. “Uh, any questions?”

If this is a friendly transaction, I guess it’s childish to ask if you’ll continue to fuck other girls.

“Will it hurt?”

Sure, much less childish.

God dammit. Long pause.

Stone’s expression softened as he broke into a sweet smile.

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t,” he reassured her and reached out to affectionately squeeze her ankle. Keeva couldn’t help but relax.

“You’re sweet,” she said with a chuckle, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

It was all tangled and matted from the long drive and on top of that, desperately asking for a trim. The pink from her teenage years was long grown out and the stress-induced premature grey streak above her forehead was back, further adding to all of her insecurities.

Stone raised his hand as if on cue, twirled the few colourless curls around his index finger and then tucked them behind her ear.

“You’re cute,” he whispered and Keeva darted across his face for a few more seconds before slapping her thighs.

I’m in love with you.

“Well, I promised Jeff that I’ll take a look at his tuning pegs so his bass stays in tune for more than thirty seconds,” she scoffed and started to get up. “Am I dismissed now, professor, sir?”

Stone chuckled, sat back again and - unbeknownst to her - followed her with his eyes as she walked away, all the way through the room and until the very last second before she closed the door behind her.

“Yeah, sure.”

● ● ● ● ● ●

As soon as they walked out on stage, something felt off.

None of them didn’t expect a huge sold-out crowd, but they were so hungry and excited for this tour that they couldn’t help the disappointment.

The Cat Club was decently packed, but full of either label people or random tourists. There were a few people in the front who rocked out to every song from the very beginning, but there were also a couple of others who were clearly off their heads on MDMA.

There were also a bunch of guys that looked like they were from a biker gang, occasionally yelling a slur or two from the back table they were sitting at.

What bothered Keeva the most, though, was the group of what looked like three wasted frat boys that were regretfully standing right in front of her - and the stage and her treasured pedals were way too close to the crowd for her liking.

They were usually taking turns on solos from gig to gig - she, Bruce and Stone sometimes played little games to decide who would be soloing on which songs and today’s rock paper scissors landed her the Stardog instrumental. She loved that one - she could unleash all the boiling swirls of confusion that made their home inside her and channel them into psychedelic madness.

But now, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to pull that kind of attention to herself.

Andy didn’t seem too bothered by the lacklustre crowd. He just did what he did best - he was being a fucking rockstar. And a sharp-tongued one at that.

“Pooks. My sweet, sweet Pookster. Let’s do this bit, baby girl,” he exclaimed into the microphone and walked over to Keeva, taking her around the shoulders. She used to feel embarrassed when he involved her in his routines, but by now she was not only used to it - she entertained it. “How about you tell all of us one outrageous opinion of yours? Loud and proud so we can get a little feel of the audience, please.”

“Okay, uh…” she stuttered when Andy stuck the microphone into her face, brushing her hair aside. She scratched her head and scanned the crowd.

Okay, frat boys right here, biker gang back there, oh - there’s a few punks right here too. Label guys. Oh god, there are metalheads in that corner. This is like a Molotov.

“Oh, there we go: any fucker here that says that they don’t enjoy ABBA is a liar and a stinky, filthy, smelly little poser. Thank you,”

Keeva’s bow was met with a few giggles - mostly from the band - and noticeably more boos. That made her laugh.

“Woah, tough crowd,” she said, backing away from the microphone as Andy and the rest of the band kept on laughing their asses off.

One of the frat boys right in front of her thought that it would be a perfect time to holler.

“Show us your tits!”

That made her stop laughing. She raised her eyebrows as high as they could go.

“You wanna see my tits?” she asked when she walked over to her own mic, patting the ‘I FUCKED TIPPER GORE’ sign on her chest - the guy screamed from the top of his lungs. And by the nature of herd behavior, soon many in the room started whistling and wooing, too. She looked over her shoulder at the band. “Okay, how much were the tickets?”

“Like, three, four bucks,” Bruce answered, a sly smile plastered on his face because he already figured out the punchline.

“Yeah,” she sucked her teeth and turned back at the guy, a pitiful frown on her face. “Looks like you didn’t pay even nearly enough, pal.”

A few more boos echoed through the small room and the band laughed even harder. Although, Jeff was clearly just a snap away from spitting on someone.

“Oh, she’s a little feisty, isn’t she?” Andy giggled, pacing around the stage while toying with the mic cord. “You know, I’ll let you in on a little insider story. This one is dedicated to the front row. Keeks here, she’s a pretty lady, huh?”

Oh no.

As a new wave of whistles appeared, Keeva pleaded with her eyes to Andy to just drop it. She could handle herself. But he just raised his finger as if to say ‘trust the process’. So she just cracked an embarrassed smile and walked over to her amp to hopefully calm down with a beer.

“Yeah, she’s like…some type of a fairy, I think,” Andy continued pacing and waved his arms around as if he was telling the most gripping fairytale of the century. “She’s like four feet tall, pointy ears, tiny little feet. They can kick some ass, but still. Aaanyway, she’s like our resident teddy bear or something. And we call her Pooky. Now, I’m sure that most of you are familiar with the Garfield comics, right?”

A few hoots stood out from the crowd, but the reception was pretty lukewarm so far.

“For those who aren’t, it’s a story about a cat - he’s a sly sarcastic bastard who has this cute little semi-sentient teddy bear. And his name is Pooky, so that’s why we call her Pooky.”

Keeva took a big sip and exchanged a confused grin with Greg, who was having a smoke behind his kit. He offered her to finish his cigarette, so she gladly took it from him and anxiously waited to hear what Andy had cooking up.

“Uh, those of you who’ve read it know that Garfield is really protective of this teddy bear of his, and if someone hurts Pooky, he’ll scratch their ugly little eyes out.”

He said the last thing so nonchalantly it made her inhale the smoke too fast, so she tried to stifle a cough and got all red in the face, making Stone laugh - he was standing right next to her, fiddling with his amp.

“Yeah and, uh, you might be asking yourself ‘Well, if Keeks is the Pooky, then who is the Garfield here?’” Andy poised the question and started stroking his chin like a philosopher. Keeva already knew where he was going, though, as her eyes widened.

No, Andy, don’t do this to m-

“Well, in this alternate universe, the Garfield here is Stoney. And if any of you fuckers -” he pointed from Stone to the trio in front of her, “- try to touch Pooky again, he’s gonna beat your fucking ass into a bloody pulp.”

A wave of screams, hoots, and whistles joined the joyfully raised fists and a few middle fingers. Andy just always found a way to unite the audience, good or bad. Keeva’s eyes popped open and she turned to Stone, who was already looking at her and bending over laughing.

“I’ve seen it happen before and let me tell you, little frat boy heads don’t mix well with Stoney’s boots,” he raised his finger and threatened everyone with a faux dramatic frown. “He’s wearing his trusty rusty Docs tonight and he’s a size 14, so that’s some food for thought for you all. Let’s go, this is Stardog Champion.”

Keeva couldn’t wait to jump into the song, so as soon as Stone finished tuning his guitar - still laughing - they could count it up and rip into the intro.

As they went through the opening riff booming with distortion, Andy quickly went over to her with a sly smile on his face and kissed her cheek.

Just as they were nearing the solo, Keeva stopped roaming the stage and positioned herself right in front of her set-up.

As always, she tried to ignore anything that was going on in front, behind, above or under her, but it felt like someone was grabbing her ankle - then her knee and after that tried to snake higher.

She ripped her leg away and saw that it was one of the frat boys. She mouthed a ‘fuck off’ to him and then reluctantly walked back to the front - she had to use her pedals. But they were just too close and this time, his friend joined in.

They started grabbing her calves and because of how short she was, they would end up reaching all the way up her thigh if she didn’t twitch away - she managed to do that, but the guitar was oh so heavy and her head started spinning.

Where is everybody?

When ripping away didn’t work, Keeva started kicking - and lo and behold, her heavy combat boot landed right on one of the guy’s forehead, taking him out.

Uh. K.O.? Yay? Oh shi-

The other guy grabbed the leg that was still in the air and pulled, knocking her to the floor as she lost balance.

When Keeva looked around her, she’d noticed that they clearly planned to drag her into the crowd, so she did what she usually did back home when a man twice her size tried to beat her up - she spat in his face.

This time, though, it didn’t work out as well as she’d planned, because the guy she kicked down got back up in the meantime, somehow acquired an empty bottle of beer and slammed it against her head.

Before Keeva could even register the pain, the one she spat on swung his fist and landed right on her nose.

And at that moment, she blacked out to the fading screams around her.

She gained consciousness for a few moments just as Stone blew a gasket. He jumped into the crowd after literally throwing his guitar away - even in her delirium, she managed to reach for it and catch it right before it hit the floor. She let out a small ‘oof’ and clutched it to her chest.

Careful, not The 3, man. That’s not cool. Not cool.

Oh, look, blood.

There was a lot of blood. On her hands, in her eyes, on her guitar and t-shirt - and now Stone’s guitar was bloody, too.

In her peripheral, she saw Jeff and Andy jump down too as the crowd around Stone numbered and swallowed him - clearly the punks and bikers in the back were just edging for something like this to happen.

The fuse.

But Stone was doing just fine - he sucker-punched the guy that sucker-punched Keeva and then kicked him while he was on the floor, spewing insults so ferociously that he had spit flying all around him. His height gave him an advantage, too - he stuck out of the crowd and swinging his lanky arms around allowed him to hit multiple people in one go.

Sadly, one of the bikers took the opportunity of Stone’s volatile rage to punch him right in the back of the head.

Even Greg leapt over his kit and went right in. Keeva began to faint again, but Bruce - looking almost angelic in her deluded mind with his brightly bleached hair and gangly limbs - came up to her, scooped her in his arms and carried her backstage.

The last thing she could hear was Stone’s well-mannered attempt to defuse the situation.

“Shut your fucking mouth, you bald cunt! I’ll bash your little fucking brain in, you fucking bastard!”

She woke up in the car as Bruce sped down the road back to the hotel. She felt sick to her stomach, but somehow managed to keep it in as she looked around, her head pounding. The guys were huddled around her, sighing in unison when they saw her eyelashes flutter.

Greg was sitting by the window with wide eyes as he tried to ask her how many fingers was she seeing - he had a wet rag slapped on the top of his head.

“What’re those faces for?” Keeva mumbled and tried to sit up. Andy, who was sitting next to her, quickly moved to ease her down. She grumpily slapped his hands away, but immediately had to apologize as he hissed - the knuckles on his right hand were purple and swolen.

“You’ve been in and out of it for ten minutes,” Jeff said, clearly a bit annoyed. Probably at the world in general, but she cringed at his hostile tone nonetheless. He was pressing an ice pack to his eye - she couldn’t see it, but judging by his expression, it hurt pretty bad.

“We’re going back to The Plaza, someone called the cops so we had to pack up and dip,” Bruce called over his shoulder - he was the only one with a clean face. “Straight to the hospital after that, no arguing.”

Keeva scoffed.

“If we’re running away from pigs, we probably don’t wanna waste time at the hospital for no reason,” she mumbled, her hoarse vocal chords cracking multiple times.

“Okay, Al Capone, take it down a notch,” a barely recognizable voice croaked from the corner - it was even more nasal than usual. “We’re not fleeing a murder scene.”

Her eyes immediately snapped to him.

His visage spoke otherwise - Stone was by the other window, holding a bloody towel to his actively leaking nose. He had a deep scratch slicing his eyebrow and the wide carmine bruise on his cheekbone was visible even in the unlit car.

She stared at his battered face for a few seconds before choosing to hide her horror behind a venomous mask.

I’m in love with you.

“You sounded like you were about to kill someone, what else are we doing?” she hissed and tried to sit up again, almost as if she wanted to lean closer and punch him, too. For what reason, she didn’t know - he didn’t do anything.

There was just an inexplicable wave of anger that repeatedly ran through her - and through him, too, apparently. He took a wet breath and leaned closer as well, clearly ready to throw back an insult.

“Calm down, you two!” Andy pleaded again, trying to push Keeva back down, but she shook his arms off - her head felt like it was about to explode.

“No! I don’t need to go anywhere. I don’t wanna go anywhere.”

“Save the energy, Pooks,” Greg softly said and reached out to stroke her knee. Somehow, he was always the one that managed to calm Keeva down - like the big brother she never had. That didn’t stop her from shaking her head as she laid back down in her seat, though.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Your forehead is cracked open,” Stone barged in again, but his scratchy voice faded in her ears and dissolved like a fog - as did the rest of her surroundings.

“Bullshit. I don’t even…feel a…thing.”

● ● ● ● ● ●

Five hours. They were waiting in the emergency room for five hours already. After many various arguments back and forth, the guys reluctantly agreed to stay back at the hotel to get some sleep - Stone stubbornly insisted on being the one to drive Keeva to the nearest hospital.

That was a good call, because she found out that he had a broken nose when they got there and checked each other’s faces under the harsh fluorescent lamps.

By then, they were sitting on the floor - somehow, it was more comfortable than the plastic seats. Stone was trying to clean the dirt around the cuts on Keeva’s forehead. The blood around his nose was finally drying up.

“Are they fucking melting metal to make the needles from scratch? What’s taking so long?” he spat out and wiped his clammy hands on his jeans. His fingers were vigorously shaking as he reached out again and continued to press the rag to her skin.

“Jesus Chris, chill out, Stoney,” she muttered and quickly patted his knee. “I’m fine.”

“What the fuck even happened there?”

Keeva didn’t even realize they hadn’t talked about it yet. They were too busy trying to take their mind off of things by talking about stupid things - like why hospitals always choose to paint their walls with baby puke yellow. The longer they were there, though, the more on edge Stone seemed.

“Dunno. I was ready to do the solo and they just dragged me down,” Keeva shrugged. “Guess I provoked them or something.”

Stone harshly clicked his tongue.

“Shut the fuck up. Don’t you dare even suggest that it was your fault.”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly subtle,” she replied with a bitter chuckle. “Not my first time getting punched for that, though.”

He stared at her for a moment and then broke into a grin when she gave him a ‘what are you gonna do about it?’ smirk.

“I believe that,” he nodded. “Spunky little runt running around the mean streets.”

“Ow!” she squealed when Stone pressed too hard. He immediately backed away, raising his hands.

“Fuck, sorry. Sorry. I think I’m doing more harm than good here,” he mumbled and put the towel away. He rested his back against the cold wall with a frustrated sigh, darting across the empty waiting room.

He looked as if he’d just walked through a meat grinder. Andy insisted that he wore eyeshadow tonight and as it blended with the sweat and the bruise under his eye, it appeared like he hadn’t slept for weeks. Keeva felt so incredibly bad.

“Never had anyone play the nurse before, though. Kinda enjoying this,” she smiled and nudged his side. He scoffed and looked at her again, scanning all the trails of red that were still smudged on her face.

“That makes one of us.”

“Don’t act so coy,” she pressed and hyped herself up to take Stone around the shoulders, ignoring the sting in her rib she hadn’t even noticed until then. Surely if she was coherent and playful enough, maybe he’d be annoyed instead of worried. “What was that thing that Andy said?”

He shook his head with an amused frown.

“What?”

Oh, you know exactly what.

“You’ve kicked someone in the head before?!” she said, putting on an outraged tone. Stone shrugged and inched away from Keeva to take a proper look at her battered face again.

“Yeah. Hey, what? Why are you laughing?” he chuckled and softly tugged on her high ponytail when she giggled as if it was the funniest idea under the sun.

“Little picket-fence uptown lawyer son getting into street fights?”

He seemed a bit restrained, even though he was silently laughing with her.

“Yeah, not really,” he mumbled and leaned his head on the wall again. “But I wasn’t such a square back then, you know. I was fun once.”

No more frowns today.

I’m in love with you.

“No way!” Keeva theatrically gasped. Her throat was sore from coughing all evening, so the breath painfully hitched in her throat. “I can’t imagine you ever being fun. Causing mayhem, money-laundering alcohol, constantly taking the piss out of your sweet, kind, dainty, adorable roommate. God forbid making sex jokes, eugh!”

Stone laughed, but didn’t add anything else for the next few minutes. Keeva trailed off, too. He clearly wasn’t in a mood to joke and she knew better than to push it.

Fuck, why did I have to make an ABBA joke? Wasn’t even that funny in the first place. It never is.

“I had a girlfriend. Once,” Stone quietly disturbed the stiff silence. She turned to him, only to find his eyes closed. Somehow, he seemed even more beaten than before. “I’ve kicked many hypothetical heads throughout that whole…thing.”

Oh. Oh, right.

“I’ve heard,” she mumbled and the arm she had around him twitched.

Stone scoffed.

“‘Course you did. I feel like it’s a part of the Seattle folklore by now. ‘Hey, remember when Stoney Gossard got cucked by a Mormon and half of the fucking town?’”

Now he sounded beaten, too.

Keeva didn’t know what to say. What could she even say to that? There were no magic words to erase heartbreak, as much as she’d love that.

The comfort that Stone’s mere presence brought her wasn’t something she could express though speaking - let alone trying to rationalize to him why he didn’t bring comfort to someone he was willingly giving it to.

She didn’t expect him to elaborate any further, yet…

“One day I just didn’t have the energy to kick anymore,” he added, slowly and deliberately - as if he was fighting his way through the sentence. “Guess she didn’t like that. Honestly, my legs have been kinda tired since then.”

Keeva tried to recall everything she’d heard about that ordeal.

‘Oh, Tara? Man, she was a bitch.’

‘That girl had a stick up her ass.’

‘Tara was a big ol’ cheater.’

‘I despised how she belittled him.’

‘Tara hated the smart-ass comments. I’m surprised she even lasted that long.’

That’s the one.

“We should write that down. Such sweet poetry from a guy who has a black eye and a ripped lip,” she nonchalantly sighed and squeezed Stone’s shoulder. “You’re a man of many talents.”

The giggle he gave her was more soothing to her injuries than opium could ever be.

“Hey, shut it,” he nudged her before snaking his arm around her waist. “What I’m trying to say is that you’re the first girl I’ve kicked a head for in years, okay?”

Keeva felt like her nose was about to start bleeding again.

“I’m honoured, I swear,” she mumbled and rested her head on his shoulder, exhausted.

I’m in love with you.

“You better be.”

Another long silence followed, but it was much lighter than before. She felt a surge of bravery rush through her pounding head.

“You know, if I’d ever met her, I’d be happy to swing a few fists around.”

She earned another heavenly chuckle.

“Yeah, bet you would,” Stone silently nodded and squeezed her closer to him. “She was like eight inches taller than you, though.”

I can imagine.

Tall. Silky hair. Athletic. Ambitious. Serious. Elegant. Everything I’m not.

I’d punch down hard.

“Do I look like I care?” she muttered, not able to keep her bitterness back, but she realized that probably only made him more amused.

“Not really, no,” Stone said, a wide grin plastered on his face. Keeva sighed. She got so lost in his warmth for a moment that she could barely hear herself speak.

“She missed out, you know?”

“On what?” Stone deadpanned and the honesty in his voice made her heart hurt almost as much as her head. “A resentful sarcastic prick?”

Keeva looked up and lifted her hand, softly turning him to face her. She wondered how he always managed to shed his borderline cocky confidence so abruptly.

“A friend.”

Before she could properly take in Stone’s sad smile, the nurse finally appeared at the door of the waiting room.

Thankfully nobody at the hospital asked any questions - it was three in the morning in the middle of Bronx, they were clearly used to seeing worse.

The nurse cleaned both of them up and disinfected them from head to toe. Keeva got three stitches on her forehead and one little stitch on her cheek while Stone’s nose got painfully cracked back in its usual position. The doctor supplied them with enough Advil for two horses and sent them on their way.

The car ride was silent, but Stone’s melancholic expression was unchanging throughout the whole way to the hotel and up the stairs to their room.

The fact that they only had one bed didn’t phase her much this time.

Neither of them headed to the shower, or to change their clothes, or to the balcony. Or to prepare the floor for sleeping. They just sat on the bed in unison as if the air itself was pushing them down.

Keeva didn’t have the confidence to look at him, so she just started at her lap and observed the tiny cut on her index finger.

Maybe it was the adrenaline of it all that made her bold enough to lift her gaze - only to find that Stone was already cautiously watching her. She shuffled a tiny bit closer - if it was anybody else, they probably wouldn’t have noticed.

But this was him.

He didn’t follow her movement, but something shifted in his eyes. Keeva couldn’t tell what exactly was it - she’d never seen his face so blank.

“You’re hurt.”

I didn’t even say anything.

I didn’t even have to say anything.

She took a moment to think.

If it was meant as an argument for why they shouldn’t, Stone failed to sell it. His voice was low and way too unconvinced by his own reasoning.

Be bold, you little runt. Be bold. It’s only life.

“So are you,” she whispered and reached out to cup his cheek, lightly running her thumb across the bruise that painted it. Stone’s eyelashes fluttered closed as he breathed out a shallow sigh - and that was the final straw she needed. “It makes the pain go away, doesn’t it?”

He opened his eyes.

The green seemed so fluorescent it blinded her. Her heartbeat grew so rapid it deafened her.

But she could still feel.

The rigid mattress was suddenly as soft as a rivlet of down feathers. But it was nothing compared to the tips of his fingers.

She registered his few swift movements only because the sheets wrinkled around her and before she snapped out of it, his knees were at the sides of her hips. Stone rested his palm next to her head and slowly traced her face with his other hand, like he was playing connect-the-dots with her freckles.

“You really shouldn’t learn that from me, Baby,” he whispered and ran the back of his index finger from the tip of her forehead down along her cheek, across her neck and below her clavicle - it felt like he was hovering above her skin. As if he was just touching the tips of the goosebumps that rose before he even moved closer.

Down, down, down.

I’m in love with you.

Too late.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

[tryskomys]

Wet Sand

Stone Gossard x OC

Chapter 12 - Good Times, Bad Times

Summary: i love this place

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

notes: okay, hear me out. i was planning to release the next chapter, but when i was falling asleep yesterday night, something felt off. like some stuff needed to be fleshed out more. then i woke up and i was like ??? wtf was that bullshit, it makes no sense, i’ll post the 7k words i have ready to go. and then i started thinking about it more and more and realized that it might not be such a bad idea to squeeze a bit of this inbetween.

it’s a bit of a different format than usual, hope you don’t mind. this is by far the most unplanned impromptu shit i’ve ever written, so i hope it’s worth something. see you guys very very soon with a juggernaut of the next one. <3

tws: stone can’t catch a fucking break, man.

songs:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

January, 1985

“Uh, is this necessary, Stoney?”

A ginger girl was strolling through the street, frigid fog puffing out of her mouth. Holding her hand, a boy with a rooster haircut adjusted his scarf with a chuckle. His Capezio dance shoes were definitely not appropriate for the weather, no longer white as they splashed through the shallow puddles of snow.

“Nothing is necessary, Tara, but where’s the joy in that mindset?” he said, nudging her with his shoulder. She was just a few inches shorter than him, a well-tailored red coat sitting on her square shoulders. She clicked her tongue.

“Don’t get all smart-ass with me, I don’t dig it.”

Stone sighed, letting out an uncomfortable chuckle. He let her small hand go and put his arm around her instead.

“Sorry, sorry,” he whispered and pressed a warm kiss on her temple. “I just want you to get along with my friends, is that so bad?”

“Yes,” Tara firmly said, blinking a few times before looking at him. He softly frowned when he saw the sincerity in her strikingly blue eyes. The ones that brought him so much comfort, so hostile. “If your friends are a bunch of junkies cleaning dishes for a living.”

Okay, sweetheart, there’s a line.

“I mean - most of us are barely twenty, what do you want them to do?” he shrugged and allowed his frustration to peek through his words. “Stock-trade? Rocket science?”

“A little direction in life would be nice,” she shot back, not even slightly phased by Stone’s intonation. She tried to get rid of it, but Tara’s twangy redneck accent was adorable - most of the time. For some reason, there were days when he could almost see a different person in her place. Someone bigoted, small-minded.

He just couldn’t stop himself.

“Babe, a few months back you were buying indulgences every Sunday.”

“I told you not to be a smart-ass, didn’t I?” Tara grunted again, folding her arms. And Stone, again, chose to close his mouth shut. “Besides, I snapped out of it.”

Yeah, wonder why.

“Plus, to be totally honest, Andrew would benefit from buying an indulgence now and then,” she continued, ignoring when he inched away to look at her with a raised eyebrow. “He’s lucky that his girlfriend’s keeping him in check.”

Stone’s eyes rolled a perfect circle around the night sky, remembering how Andy came to The U-Men gig last night with a black eye.

January, 1989

“Wait, I don’t get it. Gotta go slower on me here,” Keeva raised her palm and waved it in front of Stone’s face. They were sitting at the soundboard of the recording studio, hunched over a white plastic board with seemingly incoherent scribbles. He sighed and rubbed his forehead.

“Liar, you get me very well,” he pointed a finger at her and then at the board, pointing between the different parts. “You just switch this bit and this bit - you strum here and pick here.”

He took a quick look at her and couldn’t help but grin at the way her eyebrows knitted when she bent closer and squinted.

It was precious.

“These charts of yours hurt my brain, Stoney,” she complained. “Might as well bang this fucking board against my head.”

Maybe she wasn’t teasing after all.

They’ve been in the studio for almost six hours by then - again. They started recording the EP right after Andy came back - a few days before his birthday, poor guy. Since then, they’ve been either working, rehearsing or trying to write.

Greg was sitting in the corner, sleeping - he was working his ass off more than anyone behind that kit, always keeping everything tight and steady as the rest of them struggled to find the right path through the songs. Andy was next to him on the sofa, listing through a fashion magazine.

“You strum from here to here,” Stone explained again, dragging his finger across the board - he softly cursed when his finger smudged a bit of the writing. “Slow down on the four - stop on the fifth - and pick on the next first.”

Keeva shook her head and he noticed that she was biting her cheek like she always did before cracking a joke.

“Still not getting it. Maybe you could draw me another chart? I love your sense of colour schemes.”

There we go.

“Dear God,” Stone whipped his head away and hopped up, rubbing his face to hide the grin. “Fuck you, seriously. Jesus.”

Her laughter wormed into his ears and right as he turned around and focused on her scrunched freckled nose, Jeff and Bruce arrived.

“Coffee time!” Bruce sing-songed, carrying a carton holder with four coffees stuck inside in one hand and holding his own cup in the other. Greg jumped when he slammed the drink in front of him and then grabbed it as if it was the last drop of water on Earth. Then Bruce turned to the singer. “Oh, Andy, I saw Xana turn the corner when we were coming up. I think she’s headed here. She looked a bit pissed."

Andy’s eyes darted up from the magazine and his face fell a bit. Stone frowned and slapped his thighs, leaving a red handprint right where the holes in his jeans were.

The last thing his exhausted brain needed after an eight-hour shift at the bakery and all this time shut in a room with these five was her.

“Jesus Christ, what is she doing here again? I’m -” he started, but Keeva shushed him. Her face showed that she was clearly irritated that he was talking like that in front of Andy. Stone was so tired that he didn’t even notice that his friend cringed a bit, slapping the magazine shut.

“Chill out. I bet she’s just bringing dinner,” she mumbled. “Don't act like the sandwiches from yesterday weren't delicious.”

On cue, the tall woman walked in and the air in the room almost visibly shifted. Stone tried to erase the frown on his face as they all greeted her in suspicious unison. She scanned the room for Andy, who almost seemed to be hiding on the sofa.

He looks guilty.

Fuck. Fuck, he is guilty.

“Hey, guys,” Xana said, her voice shaky and barely audible.

Jesus. Bless her heart.

Then she looked at her boyfriend and twitched her head towards the door.

“Andy, a word.”

Andy got up with a sigh and reluctantly walked up to her, rolling his eyes when she took him by the arm and dragged him into the other corner.

The five of them exchanged a look and, again in unison, all took a sip of their coffee. Greg rested his head against the wall again and acted like he was falling asleep, Bruce and Jeff replaced Andy on the sofa and started reviewing the coffee in a clear attempt to block the quarrel out.

Stone hesitated for a second, but when Keeva locked eyes with him, he could tell she was begging him to come back closer to her.

“I still don’t get the chart,” she silently said after clearing her throat, which made him slightly relax on his way back to the board.

Yeah, I’ll take that.

Stone sat down and tried to talk Keeva through it, even though she wasn’t looking at the writing at all - she was staring at him as if she was trying to hold onto every expression of his to get her mind off of what was happening in the corner.

He could hear himself speak, but the two voices kept on disturbing his already half-assed train of thought. Catching whispered words here and there.

“Don’t fucking play…this, Andy...was a joint butt, I could smell it…not one…of them. I can’t… fucking believe...”

“Weed…”

“Off limits...they said…perfect sense! And that...in your notebook? That’s not happening...writing...no way.”

Only when Andy’s arms flung forward and he pushed Xana, Stone's eyes snapped to the pair.

He thought that he went blind and deaf for a second - everything happened so fast.

Just a few slaps echoed through the room, then two female voices meshing together and only then he finally noticed that Keeva looked away from his face.

He didn’t know how she moved there, but Xana was standing right in front of her with an expression that he’d never seen on his friend’s girl before. Pure apologetic regret. Whatever she said to Keeva when he deliberately wasn’t paying attention must’ve been over the line.

And Keeva’s line was set pretty damn low.

Keeva’s voice was so cold that it must’ve dropped the temperature in the room.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen now, Xana. You’ll leave the room and I’ll act like you didn’t come here today. We’ll finish the job that we’re getting paid for so we can put food on our table and then you and your boyfriend can go home and have a civil conversation. Deal?”

Xana’s shoulders slumped and suddenly, she seemed so…small. Stone almost felt bad as she left the room with a meek nod. The blank stare that Keeva gave him when he looked back at her made the hair on the back of his neck stand up in terror.

“Stoney? Can you explain that thing to me again?”

February, 1985

“I think it’s time we found a different lunch place,” Tara sighed and that made Stone giggle. He thought that she was joking - she used to be so giddy about coming here. This was his favourite spot to get cheap pizza. The best junk food in Seattle was right here - under her nose - and she wanted to ‘find a different place’?

“What, you don't like it? Since when?” he said, swinging their intertwined hands back and forth as they neared the building. She dry-heaved.

“The pizza is always lukewarm and the cheese is too damn waxy.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“And?”

“And I don't like the vibe,” she shrugged with a loud sigh. “I'd rather go to the one on 16th Ave.”

He felt his heart burn and suddenly, he wasn’t so hungry anymore.

Bet you would.

“I think Lloyd only has Friday shifts,” he muttered with a bitter scoff. She whipped her head around to look at him with scorn.

“What the heck is that supposed to mean?”

He looked at her, too, but she didn’t move a muscle. Not even after he huffed and leaned closer to scold her up close.

“Saw you two last week behind The Ditto. Didn't look like you were asking for the family recipe.”

She shook her head and quickly looked away - although her answer didn’t indicate any signs of atonement.

“Maybe if you took me somewhere else than The Ditto for once, I wouldn’t have stumbled into him.”

Stone shook his head. Not at her, at himself. At the way he still didn’t let go of her hand. At the way his fingers felt tingly and warm when they touched hers. At the way her fiery locks tickled his neck as they flowed through the crisp wind.

Pathetic.

“Like you stumbled into Jerry at The Ramp? You should learn how to walk.”

He only got another scoff out of her as he opened the door for her.

“We go to The Ramp too often, too. This whole place feels like a rat cage sometimes, too damn small.”

 

February, 1989

“Fucking hell, I love this place!” Keeva exclaimed and skipped next to Stone in high hops as they turned the corner to the diner.

“The cheese is a bit waxy, not gonna lie,” he muttered under his breath, sticking his freezing fingers to the pockets of his jeans. She hummed, closing her eyes.

“That’s the best thing about it,” she explained and rubbed her palms together. “Never fails to make my tummy upset. Being consistent, Stoney, that’s the essence of life. Rinse, repeat, same pizza, same people, same streets.”

His heart skipped a beat when she looked up at him - the pure excitement in her gaze was irresistible.

You’re not gonna break me.

He just snorted and shook his head.

As soon as they sat down in their usual cubicle, Mike was already rushing out of the kitchen with a big, extra cheesy pizza and two plates. Keeva gasped, a sound that made Stone’s heart stop again. Her eyes twinkled as if they were…painted. Hand-drawn.

“Welcome to Julia’s, lady and gentleman. At your service,” Mike theatrically bowed and put the food on the table, wiping his hands on his tomato-stained apron. Stone didn’t feel like talking today, so he just smiled - that thankfully didn’t hold *her* back from enjoying this simple moment of joy.

“Oh, Mikey, you’re my guardian angel. Looks delicious,” she waved her hand to help some of the scorching artificial smell reach her nostrils quicker.

“No, it doesn’t,” Mike snorted and leaned one hand on the table and the other on Stone’s shoulder. He really didn’t feel like talking today. “I put some extra love into it on this Lord’s day, though. To fuel the inspiration.”

“Aw. You’re the best pizza boy in the whole wide world,” Keeva said and batted her eyelashes. Mike shrugged.

“If you can hold a secret, I just shredded the cheese.”

“And you did great, babes. Looks like you’re the best cheese shredder, too,” she assured him and giggled when he reached out to ruffle her already messy hair.

“You desperate flirt. Okay, bon appetit, I gotta dip before Doug sacks me,” Mike grinned and jogged away, turning around halfway to give them a wave before disappearing behind the staff door again. “And move your asses with the record, I can’t wait!”

Stone noticed the worried frown that was scrunching Keeva’s features through the next few minutes of silence, but honestly - he couldn’t be bothered.

He did not feel like talking today.

“By the way, we gotta buy that thing that removes dye from clothes,” she nonchalantly said after gulping down her second slice. “You know the thing, right? Your black underwear got mixed up with my clothes at the laundromat and dyed my white Alice t-shirt. Now it’s all grey. Wanted to wear it to The Ditto next week and I obviously can’t show up like that.”

Stone had to fight his own blood from consuming his entire face, and boy was it tough.

Maybe I’d like this. Talking about laundry and dye removers and waxy pizza. Maybe we could go on like this. Stay boring until we won’t have enough teeth left to chew the crusts.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt that bad.

“Jerry tried to hit on me at the last gig, can you believe that?”

Keeva’s voice sliced through his thoughts and made him snap from the pizza to her face. She wasn’t mocking him. She seemed genuinely baffled.

“I can,” Stone scoffed, barely able to hold his venomous tone back. “He's hot.”

She shrugged.

“Can’t argue with that,” she plainly agreed and took a bite. She knew Stone was always bothered when she spoke with her mouth full, but now it seemed deliberate. Trying to get a reaction out of him. “I asked him what he uses on his hair to make it so shiny. He said that he’s a fan of coconut oil because it has many uses and that he would gladly show me all of them.”

“Classic,” he deadpanned without any emotion in his voice. Keeva shrugged and swallowed.

“I told him I'd rather chug the whole mason jar.”

She never failed to make him crack. He didn’t even register his own sincere laughter - what he did notice was the way her features lit up at the sound of it. Like a Pavlov’s reflex.

 

March, 1985

“I'm going back to Utah.”

Her voice seemed so foreign these days. Stone hated that it never failed to give him butterflies, even when it felt like it was coming from a stranger.

“W-what?” he stuttered out, lifting his head from the tree bark that was digging into the back of his neck.

The Mount Si trail was beautiful this time of year, even if the view of the city was murky thanks to the ever-present fog.

Or maybe it was just the malady of his memory, remembering it this way. Like a watercolour painting dissolving under the soggy paintbrush of time.

“Next week. Coming back home.”

The absurdity of the moment ran through his body like a very real punch and made his diaphragm clench - it must’ve looked like a simple chuckle to her.

“Wow,” he whistled, breaking into a wide grin. He knew his brain was just trying to cope by making him act the exact opposite than he should have. “And I thought that you had no sense of humour.”

Her annoyed sigh pinched his ears again, and her eyes put a crown on the pain. They matched the cloudy skies above them flawlessly.

“I’m serious, Stoney, and you’ve just proven my point.”

Against his better judgment, he pushed himself away from the tree and closer to her. The leaves used to bore wild cherries in the summer.

“Hey, I’m just teasing,” he softly said and reached out to cup her cold cheek. “What’s wrong?”

“I just...I feel like I’m past this place, okay? Like God is calling me elsewhere.”

So many thoughts swirled through his head that he didn’t know which one to choose first.

“What do you mean, God? What do you mean elsewhere? I mean, shouldn’t we discuss this first? I don’t think I can just drop everything and move without thinking it ov-”

“I know. I’m not counting on you doing that.”

The sheer finality of her sentence hurt almost more than the implication.

He wanted to be brave. He needed to be brave. But the looming self-preservation inside him didn’t allow him to be.

“Wh- I - so you’ll just leave me here?”

“Yeah,” she said and her once flaming hair suddenly seemed as dull and colourless as her tone. “Come on, Stoney. This thing stopped working a long time ago. You know that I’ve been seeing other people and so have you.”

Those were the words that made him drop his hand and inch away from her.

“Bullshit! I’d never d-”

“Whatever,” she interrupted him with a strict frown. “Have you ever stopped to think why I’ve been sleeping with other guys?”

Because I’ve always been waiting for you like a fucking dog? Patiently wagging my tail until you come back to me while your lips are still swollen from sucking someone else’s cock?

“No.”

“You’re always being a snarky smart-ass, I’m tired of it. Always too cool for school, this whole wannabe punky ethos you have, I don’t jive with it. I need something grounded.”

Stone’s eyebrows knitted and he reached out again, only to have her slip from underneath his fingertips.

“Hey, I can work on that. We can w-”

“I just don't love you anymore, okay?”

He’d heard it echo in his brain long before she said it out loud, heard it infinitely ricochet around his skull like a bullet. But actually seeing the sentence leave her plush lips startled him in ways he could’ve never prepared himself for.

“I’m sorry, Stoney. I can’t help it. I like you, but I don’t love you. And I’m sure you feel the same.”

I don’t.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

March, 1989

“My feet are shedding. Shed-ding. Can you even bleed out from blisters?” her whiny voice snapped him back to the present. “Flash me that certificate of yours, pretty boy.”

Only when he joined her under the cherry tree and let the dehydrated bark stab his skin, her words finally stopped sounding as if he’d been sticking his head into a bucket of water.

“Ah. Worth it, though. Fucking worth it,” Keeva breathlessly chuckled and rested her head on his shoulder. She tucked her knees under her chin, oblivious to the fact that it was Stone’s first time taking a deep breath in hours.

“Why didn’t we come here earlier?” she added. “You’ve been promising me for a year.”

“Forgot.”

Wishful thinking.

“Well, whip out the chart, sieve-brain,” she snorted and lifted her head again. “There are songs to be finished. Oh, I think that the beginning part of Stargazer would actually sound really sweet on an acoustic. You’ve been working on that fingerpicking too hard to not show off a bit.”

He didn’t feel like talking.

“It’s a bit cold, still,” was all he managed to push through his teeth.

“No bad weather, just bad denim jacket,” she tugged on his clothes, unphased, and then started rummaging through her backpack. “Seriously, did your mom stop dressing you just yesterday?”

“Excuse me, what?” he choked out - a lone spark of light chipped off of her soul and latched itself onto him, slowly filling him to the brim.

Shuffling away from her, Stone took a moment to throw a proper judgmental look at her outfit and continued.

“You’re telling me this while wearing five layers, two scarves and double socks, Baby? You look like you’ve been sniffing glue.”

When Keeva’s sudden joyful laughter rang through the mountain walls around them, Stone began to wonder if Spring came early this year - for a split second, the leaves in the tiny orchard started growing petals right in front of his eyes.

She clutched on her stomach, struggling to breathe through the fit of giggles. And when she slowly lowered her body into the damp grass to lay on her back and calm down, she started laughing even harder as her muscles relaxed.

Maybe he didn’t feel so cold after all.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

[tryskomys]

Wet Sand

Stone Gossard x OC

Chapter 11 - She

Summary: let’s say that it was bad for my self-preservation.

masterlist

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notes: w o a h. this halloween story took so long that it’s half-past november. but finally, here it is. sorry it took so long, dearest readers. i feel like this is short af for some reason, even tho it’s fucking 6,6k words? idk i hope you like it <3 my timeline might be a bit off with this one - you’ll know what i’m talking about when you get there - but hey, that’s the way the cookie crumbles. the next chapter will be very important, so fingers crossed guys, let’s hope that it turns out cool! love you all <3

tws: mentions of shitty childhood, awkwardness, realisations. rude words (btw tipper gore is a ***** **** ** ***).

songs:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

October 31st, 1988

“Oh, look at you!” Keeva hollered as Jeff emerged from the staff room of the café, wearing little furry cat ears on top of his bandana. “Will you meow for me?”

“I’m not sure where you’re going with this, but you know - anything for the birthday girl,” Jeff shrugged and started re-filling the to-go cups.

“It’s a marketing strategy, Ames. You and your trapezoid jawline paired with cat ears equal big Halloween tips from every chick that walks through that door,” she explained, pointing at the paper bat decorations hanging along the walls. “And I really appreciate it, you’re like my little personal party clown!”

Keeva dreaded the celebrations that came with birthdays but thankfully, being born on Halloween slightly diluted everyone’s attention.

Back home, her birthday was usually acknowledged as an afterthought at dodgy Halloween parties and celebrated with a round or two of cheap alcohol. She never had enough friends to have a proper birthday party, but she didn’t mind - even a simple congratulation was a tough moment of awkwardness to swallow, so she appreciated the peace that came with being alone in the world.

But now, being in Seattle, she made more good friends in a year than any friends during all of the twenty years she’d been alive. And it showed - the day before, she visited Andy at the rehab center and he somehow managed to sneak in a piece of cake and wrote her a little song. They talked for hours, laughed, cried - and that alone was the most heartwarming celebration she’d ever had, which was strange considering the circumstances.

Chris called her first thing in the morning to congratulate her and to make sure she and Stone could make it to the release party of Soundgarden’s first album. It was supposed to be Halloween-themed - he was trying to sniff out whether they already had their costumes.

As soon as she came to work, Jeff popped out of the staff door with a cupcake and his signature cat-like grin, singing Happy Birthday as loud as he could because he knew she would be embarrassed - he got her the new guitar strings she’d been dying to try out.

But to her surprise, Stone didn’t tease her much in the morning before they both left for work. In fact, he didn’t make much of a fuss at all. She was glad, but deep inside she’d hoped that he would be the one to tease her the most, as always. It was strange that he was deliberately missing the opportunity to embarrass her.

“Well, if you make it ‘til the end of the day through all the birthday crap, you might get a little something.”

Keeva was inspired when Jeff put on Kiss at work a few days earlier - she did have a certain phase when she was a pre-teen, so she decided to tap into her inner child and dress up as Ace Frehley on the cover photo of Dressed To Kill. She’d borrowed a suit from Stone - she had to heavily cuff the pants and the sleeves and her tie was a couple of inches longer than it should be, but the whole attire ended up looking not too shabby.

The guys’ album was amazing. Electric, heavy and nothing like anything else going around. They played it live from start to finish at the official release party with all the important folks and then moved on to Kelly Curtis’s house to a more intimate party.

Keeva dropped the jacket some time ago, so there she was, sitting on the fluffy carpet of Kelly’s floor, her back resting against the wall. After tapping off the debris from her cigarette in the ashtray next to her, she took a big drag and let the smoke out through her nose with a big exhale.

She rolled up the sleeves of her white shirt and loosened the tie around her neck. When she was done, she sat back and silently observed the mayhem going around her - and for once in her life, she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than a party.

Regan, sporting denim overalls and a straw hat, was in the corner next to the snack table, listening to a girl with pink bunny ears as she animatedly explained something to him. When he giggled, Keeva squinted with an amused smirk.

Is he blushing? What the hell…

Jerry, Mike and Sean from Alice - as the Three Blind Mice - were standing in a circle with Susan, who was the Tooth Fairy (Chris was the tooth), holding hands and frolicking to the rhythm of the Paula Abdul song that was booming through the speakers. She scoffed and took another puff.

God, Stoney must be having a field day with this soundtrack.

On cue, she searched for him in the crowd. He wasn’t with Kim or Jeff - The Godfather and Steven Tyler - who were standing by the speakers laughing, neither he was anywhere around the snack table. But after a few minutes of searching, her eyes finally fell upon him - he was alone, sitting on a cushion next to the fireplace and reading a magazine.

His face was obscured with thick weed smoke that swirled from his pipe, but the silver glitter around his eyes twinkled even through the cloud. She couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of his green boa jacket.

“Well, what do you think?” he exclaimed when he walked out of the bathroom and twirled around. She did a spit-take just as she was finishing her tea and stared at him. He had silver glitter smeared all over his eyes, along with some really strong black eyeliner. He had his hair down. It was unusually wavy today.

He looked otherworldly - from the neck up, that was. Keeva couldn’t hold a loud laugh when she darted between the big fluffy feathers he was wearing and the torn, clearly home-dyed jeans of a similar shade.

“You’re a hot frog?” she questioned, unable to tear her eyes off of the outrageous outfit. Stone rolled his eyes.

“No, try again.”

“A glittered-up bag of weed?”

“What? No!”

“A glammy quasi-reptile?”

“Yes! Exactly! I’m T-Rex!” he said and failed to keep a straight face, breaking into giggles. “T-Rex. Get it?”

She started cackling, too and felt her face paint smudge as the laughter forced a tear out of her eye.

“Sometimes I can’t decide if you’re a misunderstood genius or a complete moron.”

“Both can be true at the same time, Baby.”

Just as she was about to get up and go to him, something caught her attention.

Huh?

She wasn’t sure if she’d heard correctly, but under the general chattering and music appeared a silent melody from the other room. She could barely decipher the song.

Who the fuck is playing Stevie Ray Vaughan at one in the morning in the middle of a house party?

Her eyebrows knitted as she leaned backwards, curiously peeking into the room next to the hallway. Her lips slowly curled into an amused grin.

On a big velvet armchair next to the window sat a guy, clutching an acoustic guitar as he leaned closer to a record player to hear better. He was thin as a twig, the shadows of his ribcage kinda made him look like a kid. She could see all of that, because - for whatever reason - he was shirtless. He nodded his head back and forth to the rhythm of the song, brown hair shaking from side to side.

The widest of smiles spread across her face when he flipped his hair away, revealing his face - and most importantly the poorly drawn Ace makeup that was smudged all over it.

His eyes were rolled back into his skull and she could’ve sworn a droplet of drool was forming in the corner of his mouth. Most likely because he was shredding licks like there was no tomorrow.

He wasn’t playing as precisely as Stone or as sneakily as her - he was a completely different beast. It reminded her of a strange shamanic ritual, like he was trying to summon some sort of a blues deity that was living inside of him.

Keeva tried to perk her ears as much as she could, but she couldn’t properly hear him, so she decided to move a bit closer. She hopped up and snaked through the crowd to the other room. Even though the floor creaked as she stepped into the doorframe, the guy didn’t notice at all and continued his meditation.

She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe as her grin grew wider. The way he was able to sustain the licks on an acoustic was mesmerizing. She was surprised she’d never seen him around before. Then, the record scratched and he went on his own for a few moments before finally stopping.

When he opened his eyes and noticed Keeva, he jumped in the armchair and let out a loud gasp. She could’ve sworn he muttered the tiniest “Ace?” under his breath in shock before grounding himself in reality.

Keeva giggled as he clutched on his chest. She could pinpoint the moment he snapped out of the trance - the melody visibly disappeared from his brown eyes as he rapidly blinked to focus on her, clearly somehow still not certain if Ace Frehley was really just standing there, judging his guitar playing.

That apparently wasn’t an easy task - with the way he was swaying in the armchair, rock and roll clearly wasn’t the only thing he was high on.

“Shit, how long have you been here?” he mumbled after he rubbed his eyes and squinted to get a better look at his surroundings. She sighed and nonchalantly checked her non-existent watch.

“About an hour and a half,” Keeva shrugged, but couldn’t keep a straight face when his button eyes nearly popped out of his head. Along with the thin pointy nose and bushy eyebrows, he reminded her of some small owl.

“Christ, sorry. Like, ten minutes,” she giggled, scratching her head. He huffed and cursed under his breath, softly banging his head against the guitar to wake himself up.

“Sneaking away, are we, Ace?” he questioned, giving her a cheeky smile. Keeva raised her eyebrows.

“I could ask you the same thing, Ace. You’re the one shredding along with the mighty SRV instead of socializing,” she quipped back but slowly began to feel bad that she interrupted what was clearly a moment of absolute peace.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on you, just wanted to hear you better. I’ll be on my way again,” she continued and gave him a small smile, tapping the doorframe. “Just wanted to say you’re fucking amazing.”

“Uh, no, I’m rusty as hell, sorry. Haven’t played in some time. Thanks so much, though, thanks!” he humbly retorted just as she was turning around to leave. “I’m Mike, by the way!”

Keeva turned back and chuckled.

Rusty my ass. If you’re rusty, then I’m a freshly mummified Egyptian.

“Hey, Mike, I’m Keev-”

“Kiki, I know! So nice to meet you, greenie! Loved the show last night,” he babbled, motioning her to come back into the room. His enthusiasm was too contagious to shrug him off.

“Glad you did, Mike -” Keeva giggled and then a realization hit her, her eyes widening. “Wait. Mike…Mike? As in McCready?”

“Yeah?” he said, raising his eyebrows. She gasped.

“Oh man, so that’s why I haven’t seen you around!” she excitedly clapped and pattered over to him like a giddy child. She sat on the floor next to him, crossing her legs.

“Yeah, just got back a couple of months ago,” Mike said with a little slur in his voice. Her heart skipped a beat.

Fuck. Shadow. Let’s not go there.

"Stoney told me so much about you!” she rushed to change the subject and patted his bony knee. “Feel like I should get an autograph or something.”

“Not sure if that’s good or bad,” he chuckled and Keeva noticed a little blush filling his cheeks, even through the smudged white paint.

“Are you joking? We have a signed Shadow poster on the wall, sometimes I touch the little heart above the ‘i’ in your name for good luck,” she giggled again, but mentally punched herself.

Shit. No Shadow, idiot.

Mike was clearly not sure whether he should be happy or not.

“That’s cool.”

A few moments of awkward silence filled the otherwise empty room before he slid from the armchair like an eel and sat next to her, putting the guitar down in his place.

“Love the Jag, by the way! Such a cool one,” Mike said and ran his hand through his hair. Keeva grinned.

“Thanks! I love offsets in general, but Jags just have a special place in my heart. It’s like they have a bunch of built-in effects.”

“Yeah, that’s why I never learned how to work them,” he explained with a chuckle. “It feels like you gotta know fucking quantum physics to figure out all the switches.”

“Good point,” she leaned on her knees. “I’ve never really played anything else for as long, so…”

Mike’s eyes popped open.

“Wait, like this is your first guitar?”

“Well,” Keeva sighed. “Before that, I had a cheap little Mustang that fell apart almost as soon as I brought it home - bought that one off a kid at school for a bag of weed I stole from my parents.”

His innocent laugh indicated that he probably thought that was a cool thing. She continued with a shrug.

“So the first proper guitar, yeah. Seven years and counting. Although I think it’s, like, a ‘64, so it’s been going for quite some time.”

“Woah, nice,” he nodded and whistled. “Mom and Dad gave it to you?”

She let out a bitter scoff, which made him jump a little.

“Pft, fuck no,” she waved her hand and paused for a second. She surely wasn’t one to share childhood stories with anyone she stumbled upon at a party, but something about Mike’s eyes was so kind, so inviting. Like an old friend catching up with you, eagerly waiting to hear the tales of what had happened while he was gone. “One day I stumbled upon this tiny little music store near Shoreditch, that’s where I lived. I needed my Mustang repaired real bad - something wrong with the bridge.”

A tiny girl walked through a dim alleyway, dragging a guitar case that was nearly bigger than her - she was clearly struggling, her thin arms about as strong as two matchsticks. Little mousy curls were sticking out of her two pigtails as if she hadn’t brushed them for days and then braided them without a mirror.

Her eyebrows were twisted in a nervous frown and she chewed on her lips - even they were peppered with fair freckles, matching her whole face.

As she nearly stumbled through the door into a shabby music store, the bell above the frame rang so loudly she had to cringe. And her stress only grew when she walked in - behind the counter stood a man with a bushy beard, full of muscle and sporting an irritated glare.

He must’ve been at least six-foot-five. His huge hairy arms were crossed as he scanned her up and down, his face still hardened.

She could tell that he stopped to stare at the alarming grey patch of hair that was woven through the curls above her forehead - along with the deep dark circles under her eyes, it was obviously puzzling. Clearly, his sales didn’t come from malnourished greying pre-teens.

“Can I help you, pipsqueak?” he asked. His voice was gravely and deep as if he’d been smoking red Marbs ever since he was born - which must’ve been at least fifty years ago. She shuddered and dared to walk a bit closer.

“Um, t-this is my Mustang - I mean, my guitar,” she squeaked, looking everywhere but his face. The man scoffed.

“Yeah, I know what a Mustang is, love. What’s wrong with it?” he pressed and leaned on the counter. “Speak up, I don’t have all day.”

His accent was so thick that she had a tough time understanding him, even though she was born in this East End hovel with a similar one.

She had to swallow a sarcastic remark about his delusional belief that he was busy.

This is a run-down music shop in a dodgy alleyway in the middle of East London, mate. On a Tuesday.

“Well, here it is,” she said instead and struggled to lift the case up on the counter. When he reached out to help her, she gave him a shy smile and peeped a ‘thank you’.

He did a double-take between her and the guitar - the blue finish was battered and peeling, the bridge was covered in rust and the tuning pegs were falling apart.

“This bridge is fucking wank. This thing -” he pointed at the rusty piece of metal holding the strings. She interrupted him, though, unable to hold back her natural smart-ass attitude.

“Yeah, I know what a bridge is. Maybe you can tell me what’s wrong with it?”

She was surprised when he heartily chuckled, shaking his head.

“Little shit.”

He lifted the guitar and started studying it from up close - it looked like a toy in his hands. He grumbled when he fiddled with the bridge under the strings - it was wiggling from side to side.

“There’s a lot more wrong than the bridge with this piece of shit, love. Might be cheaper for you to just buy a new one,” he shrugged, pulling on the squeaking tuning pegs.

A wave of warm tears flooded the girl’s eyes, but she bravely pushed them back, fishing around the pockets of her leather jacket - it was at least three sizes bigger than it should be. Her hand shaking, she laid a crumpled ten-pound note on the counter and cleared her throat so her voice wouldn’t crack.

“What could I get for this? Maybe new strings at least? Or if you could just change one or two tuning pegs? I’ll make it work,” she pleaded, her cheeks flaming bright red when he raised his eyebrows even higher, darting between her devastated eyes and the money.

“That’s not how tuning pegs work, love. And you can’t put strings into this. Ask your old folks for some cabbage, I’m sure they’ll help out,” he said and put the guitar back into the case.

He frowned when he noticed a tiny tear falling out of her eye as she still stubbornly stared into the floor.

“Like fuck they would,” she muttered under her breath and unceremoniously wiped her wet nose with her sleeve before putting on a small smile. “Sorry. It’s okay, sir, thank you. I’ll figure it out.”

He hummed and crossed his arms again, but his expression started to soften.

“Let me guess, this used to be a twenty-pounder but half got dissolved into booze.”

That was the moment she looked up at him, proudly straightening her back with a defiant frown.

“No, it did not! It used to be a twenty-pounder and I worked very hard for it!” she said, her eyes filling with tears again. “Dad bought a bag of coke for the rest, not me.”

The man let out a big sigh and scratched the back of his neck, clearly feeling bad for judging so quickly.

“Sorry, pipsqueak,” he said and reached out to clumsily pet her head. “My folks were the same. I’d tell you it gets better, but you just gotta wait ‘til you’re old enough to move as far away as possible.”

“Yeah,” she peeped and started scratching off the already peeling faux leather on the case. There were a few moments of awkward silence as the man thought of his next words and then he pointed at her chest.

“You know any Zappa?” he asked, his voice gruff again. She nearly forgot she had this t-shirt on and now she regretted it. Warm goosebumps ran through her from head to toe and she felt like she was going to be sick. She didn’t expect having to play.

“N- well, y-yes…uh, I mean, no - or, I don’t know, I’m not very g-”

“You play me some Zappa and I’ll consider giving you a sale. Deal?” he raised his bushy eyebrows and walked behind a curtain made of wooden pearls before she could answer.

After a short minute, he came back - carrying a run-down pastel Fender Jaguar with deep wide scratches and dents in its baby pink lacquer. It was gorgeous.

“Try it on this one, love, think you two could be friends. Same attitude.”

Keeva woke herself up from the memory with a dreamy sigh, not even knowing how she told the story. But Mike’s smile was wide, latching onto each one of her words with an excited twinkle in his eyes.

“I ended up working in that shop, actually,” she said and couldn’t help but smile, too. “Mr. Hobbs kinda took me under his wing, taught me everything I know about music.”

“We should send him a gift basket, then,” he chuckled and nudged her with his elbow. She theatrically gasped and pressed her hand on her forehead.

“Oh, you flirt.”

Keeva could almost sense the familiar pattern of comically huge feet approaching the room.

“Who the hell is disturbing my Paula Abdul with this blues bull-” Stone’s mockingly agitated voice lamented as he entered. His coat was gone, hair even messier than before and glitter now all the way down to his chin. She couldn’t help a twitch in her eyebrow.

Fucking hell, why does he always look like he just made out with someone?

When Stone’s eyes fell on Mike, his grin grew so wide that his rare dimples appeared.

“Holy shit, McCready! I knew it was you! You’re fucking amazing,” he spewed and she eased up a bit. Stone suddenly had this childlike energy around him and it just melted her heart. And If Mike was excited before, now he was positively beaming.

“Stoney, my guy!” he exclaimed and spread his arms. “What’s up, man? Greenie here tried to sneak away but I trapped her. Saw the show last night, you guys are killing it.”

“Thanks, buddy!” Stone said, patting Mike’s shoulder. He sat down next to Keeva and slapped his knees. “You should’ve said hi!”

Mike scoffed.

“I had a shift from 5 AM today and you’re fucking irresistible. I knew you’d end up getting me hammered by midnight.”

“So you’re responsible now?” Stone groaned. “God dammit, another victim of the LA lifestyle.”

Another tense silence paused the happy attitude in the room. Keeva could tell Stone knew he talked before he thought his words through - just like her. Thankfully, Mike was happy to speak and change the subject.

“So when’s the record coming out?”

They both rolled their eyes and shrugged in unison, making Mike chuckle.

“Not sure yet,” Stone sighed. “It’s changing all the time. We want an EP out in Spring but no clue about the album.”

“Right now, we’re aiming for early ‘90, but God knows,” Keeva added and Mike’s eyes popped open.

“Early ‘90?!”

“Yeah,” Stone muttered. “Takes ages, I feel like it’s cursed or some shit.”

“How’s Andy doing?”

Now it was Mike’s turn to talk without thinking. And he, too, clearly regretted asking when they both let out an identical cheerless scoff followed by a big sigh.

“Great. Yeah, he’s great. Good,” Stone repeated, trying to sound positive. Keeva took a quick peek at him before nodding.

“Great,” she said, giving Mike a tight-lipped smile. His eyebrows knitted and he nodded, too.

“Got it.”

Suddenly, it seemed like no one in the room wanted to talk - as if they were all scared that they’d make another unfortunate remark. The joy in the room was snuffed out too easily for Keeva’s liking.

Just when she thought this birthday would pass without crying, she knew that was exactly the plan her mind made up for when they come home.

“So you guys live together I’ve heard?” Mike broke the silence, trying to lift the mood. “Finally moved out of your parent's basement, Stoney?”

That made Stone chuckle and Keeva took the opportunity to jab at him. It always loosened the mood in the crowd - somehow, people enjoyed watching them bicker.

“Still live in the shack behind their house, only there’s two of us now,” she said, elbowing Stone in the ribs when he reached out to pinch her waist.

“Yeah, I guess Baby expected to move into the fucking Waldorf-Astoria when I told her I have a free attic room,” he gritted his teeth as he pulled on her hair, causing her to yelp and slap his thigh.

“You never mentioned your sweaty underwear on the bathroom floor, you smart-ass,” she hissed back and kicked his shin, causing him to retreat and raise his arms in surrender while sticking his tongue out.

Finally, Mike broke into joyful laughter and they looked at him, both hiding a satisfied grin from each other.

“How long has that been going on?” Mike said through giggles, pointing a finger between them. “You’re cute as fuck together.”

Once again, the joy turned into awkwardness.

“Oh, we’re not - no. God, no,” Keeva babbled, forcing a disgusted grimace. She looked at Stone, who followed her suit and raised his eyebrows”

“Ever heard of the term ‘roommate’?”

Mike darted between them for a few seconds and then squinted.

“…yeah, right.”

Not allowing another cringy silence, Mike quickly whipped out his wallet and took out a scratched laminated card with dog ears.

“Check this out, Stoney!”

Keeva felt her eyes fill with tears as she stared at the silver-rank Ace Frehley collectible card in front of her as if it were the Holy Grail.

No fucking way.

“Holy shit,” Stone exclaimed and lunged forward, snatching the card from Mike’s hand. “You still have it!”

Keeva followed it with her eyes, pushing the tears back with an unbelieving smile. It was as if their words were deep under the sea, dulled in her ears by the mass of water.

No. Fucking. Way.

“Yup, my good luck charm,” Mike proudly straightened his back, laughing when Stone slapped his forehead.

“Oh man, you ripped me off pretty bad on this one. Who did I get for it again? A bronze Lemmy?”

Before Mike could answer, Keeva entered their conversation, her voice still breathy with disbelief.

“Fucking hell. I can’t believe you actually have it,” she whispered, reaching out. “Can I hold it?”

Stone frowned and snorted, clearly thinking it was one of her sarcastic routines. She looked at him with such sincerity that he handed it to her without question, though.

“You good?” he asked and she shuddered when her fingers brushed against his. They were soft and cold as ice, casually handing her a piece of her lost innocence.

“Yeah, just…fuck. Long story,” she shook her head, still smiling as she studied the silver line around the card, running her thumb across the printed figure of the twig-thin man in the same face paint that was smudged on her cheeks.

“It’s not like he’s busy or anything,” Stone said, hoping to get a reaction from her, but he only got a punch in the arm from Mike.

“Fuck off, Gossard,” he chuckled. “You go on, greenie.”

For the second time that night, Keeva decided to share a memory, still squeezing the card as if her life depended on it.

“Well, first off, I was never really that into them until I saw them on the telly in, uh…’76 I think? A re-run of The Midnight Special show -“

“Oh!” Mike popped in, clearly aware of what she was talking about. Stone seemed to have no clue, though. “Good ol’ sexual awakening by Paul Stanley’s chest hair?”

“Uh, not exactly,” she grinned and looked up at them for a second before turning her attention back to the card. “You know how Ace ripped that solo on She?”

Keeva saw Mike nod in her peripheral, while Stone shook his head.

“Tall as fuck, hunching, built like a malnourished toothpick, face full of weird makeup. The shiny Sunburst…” she dreamily sighed and slowly laid on her back, lifting her feet up on the armchair. She felt a bit lightheaded. “Man, I was gone.”

She turned to them again, clutching the card to her chest like a teenage girl with her diary. Mike was beaming with enthusiastic nods. Stone, though, had one of his unreadable expressions on, laced with a small smirk. Her heart skipped a beat in her chest as she dared to linger on the sparkles around his overwhelming eyes.

It’s your birthday, girlie. Be a little bold.

“So that planted the seeds of my chronically bizarre taste in men.”

“Entertain me,” Mike chuckled, suddenly unaware of the subtext behind her stare. Keeva snapped to the ceiling, leaving Stone’s puzzled squint behind. She focused on the tiny cracks near the light - she couldn’t tell them apart from dirt smudges thanks to her poor eyesight.

Stoney Gossard’s bony shoulders accidentally shimmying off his kaleidoscope vest.

He’s so unathletic.

“Uh, Peter Gabriel - stage makeup and reverse mohawk phase,” she started counting on her fingers.

Stoney Gossard’s chicken legs bunny-hopping around the stage.

God, he’s like a newborn chicken.

“- Thin White Duke,”

Stoney Gossard’s sweaty nose scrunching when he mouths his own riffs like a nerd.

It’s definitely too big for his face. Isn’t it? It is.

“- Brian May and his spider fingers in that white bat wing blouse…”

Stoney Gossard’s bug eyes dissociating into a different plane of existence. Glowing in the harsh stage lights like two eerie gems, silver eyeshadow running all the way down to his cheekbones. Black eyeliner smudging around his eyelids, glistening with beads of sweat.

He looks so unhinged, it’s baffling.

Stoney Gossard. Period.

“Yeah, that is a fucking weird bunch,” Stone’s irresistibly annoying voice snapped her back to reality as if to spite her.

Yup.

“Thanks, Stoney. Anyway, after that, I was looking for an Ace card for years, and it was nowhere to be found. Couldn’t get any records either, ‘cause even though I was saving up, they were always sold out…so I gave up after a while,” she continued her story.

“But, like, four years later, one of the kids from band brought a tape to a rehearsal, the Kiss interview with Tom Snyder.”

Mike nodded again, leaning forward like he wanted to encourage her to keep on remembering.

“And Ace was fucking wasted, funny as hell - that maniacal laugh. It was hysterical, the best thing I’ve ever seen. True love never grows old, I guess,” she chuckled and lifted the card to her face again to admire it. “I think that was the day that I changed from a girl to a woman.”

“Honestly, I think I changed from a boy to a man with that one,” Mike said, making her giggle.

“I believe that. Well, the next day, the record store I talked about got stocked and they had a silver Ace card, just like this one.”

She allowed herself a second to decide if she wanted to continue.

“I didn’t have any money, though, so I dragged myself to my favourite spot in Hyde Park and cried for hours.”

Okay, that’s enough for today.

As endearing as Mike was, she felt like she could’ve told the whole story only if it was just her and Stone in the room. And that made her feel more vulnerable than she’d ever admit to herself.

Strangely enough, maybe she would admit it to him.

“Christ, that’s devastating,” Mike said and reluctantly took the card back when she handed it to him with a sincere grin.

“It felt like the worst day of my life. And my parents were dope addicts, so that’s saying something.”

● ● ● ● ● ●

As soon as they got home, Keeva let out a loud groan.

“Home sweet home. Man, I can’t wait to take this shit off my face, ugh,” she shivered and headed straight to the bathroom.

“At least your tear ducts aren’t blocked by glitter,” Stone mumbled, clearly tired as well.

“Your choice, smart-ass,” she called before she closed the door behind her.

They talked to Mike for a few more hours and then beelined straight home, surprisingly from Stone’s initiative. He was really eager to go for some reason. They didn’t drink that much, considering that it was such an event. Keeva was tired from all the dealing with Polygram and clearly Stone must’ve been too.

When she finally rubbed all the makeup off, she got out of the bathroom, but he wasn’t there. The curtain to her room was open, though.

Shit, is he up there? It’s so messy, Jesus. I left the bra right in front of the entrance.

“Stoney?” she called, confused.

“Uh, over here!” his voice came back from upstairs - even further than her room. Then she had a realization.

Oh. The roof window?

Keeva hopped up the stairs. The window was indeed open, just big enough for one person to squeeze through. The roof wasn’t really angled and seemed kind of stable, but…

“The hell? Are you snooping around my room? You won’t find anything, officer! Search the bottom floor, my roomie consumes more grass than a common barn animal -“

She trailed off.

“Ta-da!” Stone exclaimed and threw his arms open just as she popped her head up the window. She felt like she was in a dream.

There was a thick checkered blanket spread on the wonky roof tiles and on it laid a bunch of snacks, a six-pack, Stone’s acoustic, a few scattered papers and a plate with a tower of pancakes, a lit candle stuck in the top one.

“Come hither! Sorry that I didn’t get a cake, but I made your favourite trampled-tyre-instant-pancake extravaganza earlier,” he said and reached out to help her up. When she was fully on the roof, he scratched the back of his neck with an embarrassed grin as he continued to ramble.

“Oh, and I brought a guitar and your notes for the stuff we haven’t finished yet, you know, in case you wanted to work on them so you wouldn’t be stressed. And I got you something else than a Bud for a change. And I have some Sun Chips and that disgusting cheddar dip you love, you know, the one that doesn’t share a single molecule with any kind of cheese on the planet. And a pack of M&M’s that only has the brown ones. And we have grapes! Grapes! Can you believe that? Can you? Uh…happy b-”

Keeva almost knocked the wind out of him with the sheer strength of her hug. A risky move since they were standing on a lousy roof, but she couldn’t think about anything else than him at that moment.

No. I can’t say it. I’m not gonna say it. Don’t say it.

“I love - I love it. Thank you so much, Stoney,” she mumbled, burying her flaming red cheeks into his chest. He chuckled and tightly wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her head.

“I know you said you hate surprises but I thought that maybe -”

“You changed my mind,” she finished his sentence and hoped that he would realize the weight of that statement. She felt a tiny kiss in her hair and before she could say anything else, he lifted her from the ground and swung her around like a doll.

“Holy shit, we’re standing on a roof! Put me down!” Keeva yelped, but couldn’t help but laugh at Stone’s little ‘wee’ sounds as the material squeaked under them. When he put her back down, he quickly flicked her nose and reached for a little paper bag next to the pancakes.

“This is for you.”

She grinned as she peeked into it, a blush spreading across her face. Her smile grew even wider when she pulled out an oversized black t-shirt, her eyes popping open. It had a big handwritten sign that spelled ‘I FUCKED TIPPER GORE’.

“It might be a little big, but I thought it was funny.”

He remembered the night they spent in the middle of the woods on his birthday drinking and devouring every snack they got their hands on. And he remembered their hour-long discussion about the whole ‘85 Tipper Sticker fiasco and her uncompromising drunken monologue.

“They just can’t handle the fact that music is inherently sexual! Like, it always has been and always will be, the very first songs were either religious or love songs and that makes complete sense! And when you play, you’re completely devoured by music as a feeling and it controls you. Your movements, your tempo, the way you slide on the strings, everything. You are fully under its control. And if music decides that it wants to express itself in an erotic way, then fucking fine! There’s nothing I can do, I’m just a medium that the music uses to do what it pleases. Christ, fucking ‘mothers for chastity’ my ass. No sad middle-aged housewives whose husbands don’t fuck them enough should have the power to tell kids what they should and shouldn’t listen to or how they should or shouldn’t express themselves. Especially when you just know those creepy old hags have been getting railed from the back in the front seat of a car at the drive-in movies not too long ago and creamed their knickers every time Elvis shook his fucking ass.”

Stone didn’t say anything after that, just broke into a fit of hysterical laughter until he couldn’t breathe.

“You made this by hand? For me?” Keeva said, astonished at the craftsmanship. He shrugged, clearly a bit embarrassed by the homemade gift.

“I took one of my plain black t-shirts and bought some fabric paint, the one that you iron after painting so it stays on. And, uh, yeah…I- I’m sorry it’s so shitty, but I wanted to give you something s-”

“It is so special, Stoney. I love it so much, I don’t even - I don’t know what to say, all of this is just…thank you, really,” she stuttered, giving him one more tight hug.

“It was like a ‘eureka’ moment for me back there, so I thought that the rant needed to be immortalized,” Stone chuckled and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

“A what? Why?” she giggled as she pulled away and started putting the t-shirt back in the bag.

“Uh, let’s just…let’s say that it was bad for my self-preservation,” he mumbled with a smirk and sat down on the blanket. Keeva wanted to comment on Stone’s sudden sheepishness, but it was like she was frozen in a spot at the sheer beauty of the moment.

The sky was almost laughably cliché - clear with countless twinkling stars and a full moon that shined so bright it made Stone’s skin look almost transparent. The whole city skyline was visible from where she stood, the Needle proudly stretching out into the settling fog.

“Well, let’s rip off the bandaid, Baby,” his obnoxiously charming nasal voice tore her out of her thoughts. “Your cake is getting more inedible with every minute and I don’t want you to chip your little vampire teeth before you even got a chance to suck me.”

And when she looked at her grinning friend, Keeva felt lightheaded.

Stone’s eyes were glowing brighter than ever - a head-spinning green field, full of mischief and hope for the future - as a realization slowly wrapped around her whole body like a delightfully warm blanket.

I’m in love with you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

[tryskomys]

Wet Sand

Stone Gossard x OC

Chapter 10 - Indifference

Summary: we’ll figure it out.

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

notes: phew! here we go with another stone pov - considering the title, y’all probably know what vibe this will be. seems like this man can’t catch a fucking break. i promise i have some fluff cooking up. i know it’s late for halloween, but nonetheless i do have some spooky fall vibe thingy almost ready to go. until then, have this painful hurt/strained comfort odyssey. it’s good to have friends, isn’t it?

tws: mentions of addiction and rehab. a mental breakdown of sorts. this one hurts, it hurt to write and it might hurt to read, so watch out. a lot of deep comfort, though. warm hugs and tears. ‘how can you be so blind to someone being madly in love with you’ type deal.

songs:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

September, 1988

Stone barely heard the keys in the door when Keeva came back home from work.

“Hey, beanpole! Sorry I’m late,” she called, her voice painfully cheerful. It stabbed his stomach like a white-hot iron stake.

She might’ve been late. He couldn’t tell. He’d been there for hours that felt like days to him.

“I come bearing gifts, though! What would you say to a little Italian pasta date?” she mused again, hardly audible through the ropes of water falling all around Stone. “They had Kraft Mac and Cheese on sale!”

Her childlike giggle sent a shiver down his spine, joining the running cold drops.

She finally started doing a bit better since they signed. She’d been handling everything better and better for the past few weeks.

“And move your bony ass, please! I wanna catch some warm water, too.”

Warm water ran out hours ago. Days.

Stone, in his infinite dissociation, wondered that maybe - just maybe - if he didn’t move or say a word, he’d disappear. He would melt under the shower like a piece of cheap cotton candy and flush down the drain. Then he wouldn’t have to see the lightbulb behind her eyes burst and go out again. He wouldn’t have to be the fucking messenger for once in his life.

“Awooga, that must be one hell of a wank if you don’t even bother to say hi,” Keeva quipped, clearly waiting for his laughter.

Stone wanted to laugh, but nothing but a muffled hiccup resonated through his ribcage.

If I don’t move, I don’t exist.

“Hey, you good there?” she questioned softly.

Fuck. She always knows.

He didn’t even have to say anything and she knew. The crystal clear sound of the running shower meshed into a hypnotizing white noise long ago, but he could hear her footsteps approaching the bathroom.

He looked up from the tiled floor to stare up at the door. He didn’t even realize he didn’t fully close it when he got in. When he could tell Keeva was just close enough to peek through the gap, he fixed his eyes right in front of him, studying the peeling wood on the cupboard under the run-down sink. Not even her soft knock made him move.

“Stoney, are you okay?”

I am. I’m always okay. Am I not?

Stone subconsciously squeezed his crossed arms tighter to his chest, shuddering under the freezing cold fabric of his drenched t-shirt.

Maybe not.

“Stoney, I’m coming in, yeah?”

He wanted to beg her to leave. To get out of this shithole, out of his life, out of everyone’s life and just go. Somewhere where actions matter. Somewhere where promises mean something.

I can’t even give you that, can I…

All she got for an answer was a weak hum. He didn’t see her face when she opened the door, still stubbornly staring in front of him. Although, he could vividly picture her in his head.

Her previously sparkling eyes widened, her brows furrowing in a sudden wave of worry. He wasn’t too surprised.

Because he had hours - days - in that shower to get rid of the shame he felt when he first stepped inside.

Fully clothed, Stone turned on the faucet and let the then-hot water drench him from head to toe as he slid down the wall to sit on the wet tiles. Thanks to the holes in his jeans, his legs soaked through very quickly and his shiny new Mother Love Bone t-shirt went see-through in a matter of seconds.

He still didn’t move his eyes when Keeva briskly walked inside, dropping to her knees in front of the shower and extending her hands to brush away the dripping wet hair that was sticking to his forehead, cheeks and neck. The strands were all over his face as the water ran down - only his elven nose peeked out of them as if they were a curtain.

“Wh- w-what the fuck, Stoney?” she whispered as she frantically brushed Stone’s hair away, stroking his freezing cold cheeks. He moved his gaze to the striped socks on his feet and focused on the water drops that seamlessly sank into the threads of wool.

He was jealous of the water. Clear, fluid, invisible.

The thought of speaking to Keeva directly didn’t even cross his mind.

“Kevin called earlier. Andy shot up some laced shit again. I took 'em to the hospital and then straight to rehab. Three months.”

His voice was scratchy and strained from the frigid wet fabric that clung to his lungs for so long.

He could hear Keeva’s heart skip a beat. He could tell the light in her eyes was snuffed out. She didn’t drop her hands away from his face, but he could feel them getting rigid and heavy as the burden of caring slowly spilt through her muscles.

Sooner or later, you’ll stop touching me like this.

Sooner or later, I’ll become a fucking reflex. Every time I’ll open my mouth, you’ll run like everyone else.

Stoney fucking Gossard - Seattle’s bad omen.

Stone tried. He tried his hardest, but the scent that followed her around was intoxicating. He had to turn his head as her airy perfume moved with her, and he finally looked into her eyes.

There was nothing. They didn’t reflect anything but his own drenched face.

What else did you expect, idiot?

If he didn’t know her, he wouldn’t even be able to tell that she was using all of her bodily strength to push back tears. Then, she climbed into the shower, not even flinching when the freezing ropes of water hit her heated face.

She huddled closer to him and took him around the shoulders, gently pulling him across the squeaking wet floor to let him sit in her lap. She twisted her legs around him and wrapped her arms around his chest as tightly as she could, nuzzling his neck with her cheek.

It was still warm.

The tiny touch of heat made him melt into her embrace and he leaned his head back against her shoulder. When she began to softly caress his wet hair, he curled into a ball and finally let himself go - he started vigorously shaking from the freezing sensation that soaked him all the way to the marrow of his bones. He felt her feather-light lips in his hair as she hummed an unintelligible song.

Keeva's voice invoked the strangest feeling in him - it was like watching a porcelain vase dangle from the rim of a shelf, just about to fall and crack into countless pieces. And Stone, frozen in spot, could do nothing but drown in the unbearable suspense.

They rocked from side to side in a tight embrace, their soaked clothes glued together. Stone could tell she was struggling not to shiver as well. She took a shallow breath.

“So he’ll be out by Christmas?” Keeva said, emotionless. He nodded as his teeth chattered.

“Should be.”

“Well, we’ll figure it out, won’t we?” she squeezed him closer when he twitched. Stone knew it was a purely rhetorical question.

You know we won’t. I know you know.

He nodded again, placing a gentle kiss on Keeva’s wet neck.

“Sure.”

“How long have you been in here?” she softly asked and he couldn’t help but repeat his kiss. Her heartbeat warmed him up.

Good question.

“The sun was up when I came home,” Stone replied, his voice cracking from the cold. Her eyes popped open as if he’d just slapped her awake from a deep sleep and she immediately reached up to turn the water off. She carefully tried to move, but he held her arms in place and leaned in even closer, brushing the dripping curls out of her eyes.

“Can we stay a bit longer?” he said, sounding way more desperate than he’d intended. When she shook her head, Stone had to fight back a childish groan.

“You’re not getting pneumonia on my watch,” Keeva whispered and straightened her back again in an attempt to get up, but he dragged her back down, now hooking his arms under her knees to keep her legs around his waist.

“Please?”

Fucking pathetic. Begging for hugs like a little fucking kid.

To his surprise, she relaxed and rested her chin on his shoulder. After a few moments of deafening silence, she nudged the back of his neck with her forehead, her curls tickling his skin.

“You really wanna sit on the bathroom floor in freezing wet clothes or do you just need this, Stoney?”

Stone suddenly sobered out of his haze, his eyebrows knitting. An uncomfortable shiver ran down his spine when his cold t-shirt stuck to his back as Keeva hugged him closer.

The clothes made him feel fragile - more naked than if he was wearing none.

I - no. No, I want out. I want out and away from you right now.

“Stoney?” she repeated, barely audible over the blood thumping in his ears.

Fuck.

Fuck you, fuck Andy, fuck Jeff, fuck music, fuck Polygram, fuck my pride, fuck my dignity, fuck everything.

His vocal chords betrayed him, speaking on their own even though he put all of his willpower into shutting up for once.

“I need this.”

Stone couldn’t care less after that. He just fully leaned back and listened to Keeva’s heartbeat - it seemed to fasten when he did so.

“This will feel better in dry clothes under a blanket with a cuppa, trust me,” she gave him a sweet smile, but her face fell when he opened his eyes, emotionlessly staring into the ceiling.

“I don’t.”

He could tell that Keeva frowned for a second before pushing off the wall to sit up straight and unwrapping herself from him. She finally began to get up and ignored his annoyed eye-roll - he was thankful for that because it wasn’t meant for her. It was at himself.

Great. Great fucking job.

As soon as she helped him up, Keeva turned around without a single look and stepped out of the shower. She grabbed the towel that hung from one of the hooks on the wall and started drying her hair.

It took Stone until now to realize that he wasn’t the only one completely drenched, watching her through the mirror as she squeezed water out of the transparent linen shirt that stubbornly clung to her skin. His cheeks quickly heated up all of a sudden as if to spite the rest of his skin.

“‘It makes the pain go away.’ Isn’t that what you said?” she coldly stated and looked Stone in the eye in the mirror before darting up and down his sinewy body. It was as if her stare made the fabric heavier and heavier, suffocating him.

His voice gave up when he tried to shoot back at her and he only managed to let out a stunned chuckle - it came out a bit like a choking noise.

Jesus. That wasn’t what I -

Who the fuck am I kidding, that was exactly what I meant.

“I’m not trying to fuck you if that’s what you think,” she raised an eyebrow and by now he was certain that she could hear his thoughts. “Just ‘pure companionship’. Whatever that meant.”

Keeva grabbed the other towel from the small portable heater next to the cupboard and handed it to him.

“I’ll make some tea, okay? You get out of these clothes or you’ll have to breathe through a tube soon.”

With that, she hurried out of the bathroom, leaving behind little wet footprints. Stone heard her quick hops up the stairs and the following rummaging around her room as she searched for dry clothes.

● ● ● ● ● ●

“Can I?”

Keeva’s voice snapped Stone out of deep thought again as she walked up to his bed, two cups in her hands. He hadn’t even noticed that she came down and started rummaging around the kitchen. He was huddled deep in under his blanket, snapping to look at her. The dark circles under her eyes were much more noticeable than before.

It made her look haunting. Ethereal.

“Sure,” he mumbled, lifted the blanket and motioned her to join him. Keeva gave him a little smile and put the cups on his bedside table next to his pipe. A wave of warmth ran through his body when she sat down next to him, putting her arms around his shoulders with a hiss.

“Christ. You’re freezing.”

Stone pushed his cautiousness aside as he leaned his back against her, similar to the way they were in the shower. He should’ve trusted her - it did feel better now they were out.

Hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hm hm hm hmm…

“I thought of a song today,” he mumbled, breaking the silence. Keeva rested her chin on top of his head.

“Yeah?”

“But I don’t know…I don’t think it’s ready yet. Something’s missing.”

“Other instruments, perhaps?” she chuckled, twirling a strand of his hair around her finger. Stone scoffed and shook his head.

“Some feeling,” he said after a long pause. She hummed and reached out to his temple as if she were trying to read his mind and hear the melody. Keeva broke into an earnest smile when he closed his eyes upon her touch.

“Well, let it ripen a little. It’ll come to you.”

That’s what I’m afraid of.

Suddenly, Stone was devoured by the heavy blanket of today’s events and started feeling cold again - a Pavlov’s reflex that was clearly brought upon him by the shower.

“Why the fuck do they always call me?”

His lament hung in the air, disturbing the sombre silence. He weakly fought back a wave of painful frustration that swirled through his insides and crawled up his throat, but it’s been building up for way too long to be pushed down.

“The last time this happened, like, two years ago, they called me to get him and drive him there. The same exact fucking situation.”

Keeva didn’t respond. She just kept on caressing his temple and he felt as if she were dragging all the pent-up feelings out of him by some spell.

“Always the same thing,” he spat out, slightly raising his voice. “Mark passes out in someone’s shower high as a fucking kite - they call me. Andy and Regan get arrested for running around Pike Market naked and wasted - they call me. I’m sick of it.”

Stone couldn’t get a read on her. She was succeeding at hiding any emotion she might’ve been feeling and it drove him even more mad.

Tell me I’m a fucking asshole. I know you’re thinking it, say it to my face.

“I don’t get it, why? I’m a snarky prick.”

“‘Cause they trust you.”

Keeva’s honest tone caught him off-guard. It seemed like she was genuinely giving his caustic slur of words a pass.

Stone scoffed.

“Bullshit. I just don’t ask questions,” he said, slightly calmer after letting it all out. It was painful, but it was the truth, he thought.

This isn’t about trust, it’s about convenience. ‘Oh yeah, call Stoney, he won’t mind, he doesn’t attach himself. Oh yeah, Stoney won’t be lecturing. Sure, Stoney is the practical voice we need.’

How could they trust me when they see me as an asshole with zero feelings.

That’s what I am, anyway.

“That’s the point of trust, Stoney,” she mumbled, tearing him out of his thoughts. “They know you’re a snarky asshole who’s dependable. You’re able to distance yourself from the situation and that’s really admirable. You don’t lecture people about bad decisions without first getting them someplace safe. You’re a good friend and we feel secure when we’re with you - snarky prick is the way to go when you’re in trouble.”

A surge of hot blood rushed to his face.

‘We feel secure.’

“I should be a bit nicer, then,” he sneered, trying to put as much bitterness as he could into his words, but his giddy tone still came through. “Maybe I’ll get a fucking break for once.”

Keeva broke into a wide smile and slipped from under him to roll over and lay next to him. She put her arm under her head and held out her hand to caress Stone’s hair when he lied down too, turning to face her. They were so close to each other that he could feel the heat of her face on his cheeks.

“Nah. You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?” she pouted and laced her fingers under her chin after dragging his blanket over her.

“A break for you, too, possibly. From me,” Stone chuckled with a shrug, brushing away a few curls that fell into her eyes. The smile she gave him was much more sombre than he’d expected.

“I’m, uh,” she started, but had to take a pause. She was looking straightforward, but somehow he felt like she was staring right through him, clearly having a hard time formulating her words. “I’m pretty certain that I’d fall in love with you.”

Stone’s heart sank down to his stomach as if he’d just chugged a jug of lead.

“And that would kinda hurt, you know,” she smiled again and focused on his face. He was the one to look away this time. “So I’d prefer to keep the illusion that you’re just a snarky prick. Self-preservation.”

Good idea. Bad idea.

Don’t do it. Please do it. I’ll be nice, I promise. Or not. I don’t care. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll kiss the soles of your boots. Or you can kiss the soles of my boots, I don’t care. Whatever you ask for, I’ll do it. Just let me.

“Fair,” was all he managed to say.

Silence.

“And you’d also leave me to be Seattle’s lonely runt of the mythical litter of sarcastic dickheads living in Mr. Gossard’s tool shed,” she said after a moment, pouting again.

Stone couldn’t help but snicker.

“That wouldn’t be too nice of me.”

“Or, hear me out, I should be nicer so they’d come to me instead of you and then you’ll get a break,” Keeva enthusiastically nodded, clearly ready to move on from her jarring sincerity.

Now he knew exactly what to say. He was just hoping that she’d get the message.

“No. You wouldn’t do that to me.”

“Guess not, hm?” she chuckled and turned away from him to lay on her back - Stone could’ve sworn he saw a blush spreading through her cheeks. “Maybe we’re both nicer than we think.”

“Watch out, your self-preservation thing is malfunctioning,” he raised his eyebrows and reached out to poke her side, making Keeva squirm. She giggled.

“Yeah, my brain is about to short-circuit. So is yours, actually. I think you should get some sleep.”

She started to get up, but Stone hurried to grab her arm and keep her in place - perhaps a bit too eagerly for his taste. He panicked, thoughts racing through his head as he tried to figure out an excuse to keep her soft skin at the tips of his fingers.

Fuck, think. Think.

“I mean, I don’t wanna boast, but my bed is better than yours. You know, quality-wise. I think sleeping is generally more comfortable in this one.”

Nailed it. Dumbass.

Keeva’s joyful laugh made his stomach weightless for a moment.

“Do you have enough data for that? Unless you’ve been napping in my bed and that’s -”

“Hearsay,” he cut her off as quickly as he could. Keeva’s bed really was uncomfortable. Stone knew. She’d been working overtime for a few weeks before the summertime and her bed was too inviting not to nap in - he missed her scent and her sheets were the only thing that held it the whole day through. He’d found her in his bed before, too, though. That cemented his idea of some correlation between her train of thought in crisis and his. “I sentence you to the prison of my room - well, my corner of the room.”

The pause before her answer made the cloud in his head burst as she gave him a sad smile and finally looked at him again.

Her eyes sparkled as if she was fighting tears and that took him by surprise - she was so adamant about making him feel better that he’d nearly forgotten how much she must be hurting.

She was nearly whispering.

“That would be really bad for my self-preservation.”

Stone couldn’t stop himself as he reached out and softly caressed her cheekbone.

“Maybe we could turn it off for one night.”

We.

A cold shiver ran down his spine when the words left his lips.

Is this what being a junkie feels like?

Just one little hit, can’t hurt.

“M’kay,” she said, her voice cracking. A warm tear tickled his thumb as it dropped down her pale skin. He sat up a bit and opened his arms, letting her shuffle closer as she slowly broke down in muffled cries.

Stone understood now.

“Shh. We’ll figure it out.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

[tryskomys]

i just finished all of wet sand and. oh. my. god. you have quite the way with words. love to see an update soon!

Aaa tysm, you’re too kind! Update on the way, thanks very much for reading <3

[tryskomys]

the damn tension come onnnnn

heheeee >:)

[tryskomys]

Wet Sand

Stone Gossard x OC

Chapter 9 - Feel Flows

Summary: it makes the pain go away.

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

notes: okay, here we go. I usually try to avoid writing anything that resembles smut like a plague (read as: i’m really bad at it and i’m trying to be mindful of my digital footprint), but the plot won’t move itself as they say. if anything feels clunky or alien - it’s because it is. but hey, maybe that’s just the sprinkle of realism we need to make the not-smut soup we shall be feasting on, starting today. enjoy you horny dummies <3

tws: probably a smidge nsfw. recreational drug use, drinking, brief mentions of drug abuse and domestic abuse. ‘getting lost and forced to spend time together’ is a trope, right? should be. naughty touching. lewd words. oh, and news flash - quoting someone face to face is not cool, especially if the quote revolves around voyeuristic pleasures and the word ‘cum’ is present. the more you know! plus - stone can be a pretty harsh asshole when he doesn’t know how to express emotions so watch out.

songs:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

July, 1988

“Hand me the tent first. No, not the six-pack, the tent. T-E-N-T, the big blue tarp thing you’re staring at,” Keeva said to Regan, who was unloading camping gear out of a small van.

To her annoyance, he was already a bit tipsy and high as a kite, so he had a hard time understanding her commands. He giggled and grabbed a tent kit from the trunk.

“Sorry, mom. Don’t spank me, please. Or do, I don’t know, never tried it before,” he handed it to her with another chortle, watching her carefully put it on the leafy ground.

They - Regan, Shawn, Chris’s girlfriend Susan and Keeva - decided to organize a weekend camping trip to celebrate Stone and Chris’s birthday and, coincidentally, Mother Love Bone’s shiny new major label contract and Soundgarden’s new album being finished.

It kind of fell apart in their hands, though - Bruce, Greg and Hiro had a bad case of food poisoning at a house party and Jeff was off to Montana to visit his grandparents. Chris and his girlfriend Susan, Kim and Matt joined, as well as Mark and Steve from Mudhoney.

Andy cancelled because ‘he wasn’t feeling well’.

Keeva knew that Xana banned him from going, though. Even though the six of them were a real band now, they seemed to see less and less of each other and that was double the truth for Andy - Xana moved in with him and Chris and culprited most of his friends as bad influences.

He’d been having some troubles with sobriety again and she, in her desperation, thought she could help it by locking him up in a golden cage.

Keeva wasn’t too keen on her methods and that started causing a rift between the two women.

Xana controlled what he ate, what he wrote about, who he hung out with and he seemed to be alright with it. But physical fights were where Keeva drew the line.

Bloody scratches, eye bruises, ripped lips…on both of them. It was bizarre how two grown-ups could claw at each other like that and still insist that it’s ‘just how they are’.

There were a few instances of Andy knocking on their door in the middle of the night.

“What the fuck, Andy? It’s three in the -”

“Can I come in please?”

Only once he entered the dimly lit room they could see that Andy had a bloody nose and a few slits near his eye, clearly from long nails.

Stone jumped up from his bed and immediately threw his joint into the glass of water on his bed table to put it out.

He grabbed Andy’s shoulders with a frown and started turning him around, checking for damage.

“Holy shit, did you get mugged?” Keeva gasped, carefully brushing Andy’s wild hair away from the crusty blood so she could take a closer look. His breathing was slow and shallow.

“Xana thought I was strung out and I didn’t know where else to go,” he mumbled, almost as an inaudible blur of words. Stone and Keeva immediately looked at each other as an identical jolt of frigid chills ran down their spines.

“Are you strung out?” she asked calmly, trying to be cool, but when he didn’t answer, her stomach twisted in a nauseating cramp. She bravely pushed down the sickness as Stone firmly took Andy’s face in his palms, dragging him under the lightbulb.

He was adamant about looking anywhere else but at Stone’s judgemental frown.

“Look at me, Andy, and I’m not gonna ask twice,” Stone said in a tone she’d never heard from him before. It was bone-chilling, like a fever dream. She walked up to Andy just as he looked up and that allowed his two friends to put the pieces together.

Flaming red cheeks and bloodshot eyes with tiny pupils.

 

Not an ideal start of an official band life with a record contract.

A record contract.

The idea made Keeva’s insides flip as if she was on a rollercoaster.

Once the band bagged more and more gigs, the old white men in black ties started spawning out of thin air and suddenly, everyone was eager to take them out to the most expensive restaurants in Seattle.

They tried to snoop out every little dirty detail about the band members, their personal histories and where the band was going.

The first few meetings were fun, because they didn’t take them too seriously and just enjoyed the attention, which made Jeff properly cross at her and Stone at times.

But after the third dinner, the anxiety grew worse. It was hard for Keeva to focus on writing when she had a five-to-eight job every day and had to sit down face to face with a new slimy suit at least once a week.

She started smoking more over the past month, too, a sign that always made Stone worried.

 

“Hey, you good?” he hurried to her right after coming home from work one day, not even taking his shoes off. Keeva was sitting on his bed wrapped in his blanket, finishing the last cigarette of the pack she bought just a few hours ago.

She’d hoped that she would calm down quickly enough and get her shit together before he’ll come back from his late shift. The last thing she needed was for Stone to find out that she spent her breakdowns in his bed because his heartwarming scent calmed her down.

Unfortunately, he came home early. However, he didn’t seem to care at all.

Keeva’s eyes were bloodshot and her nose was swolen like a red bobble. It was clear that she was shaking and sobbing not too long ago, her t-shirt was stained with tears. She just waved Stone off when he sat down next to her and took her face in his palms.

“Yeah. Just tired.”

Just tired.

That was Keeva’s go-to answer. But now they were finally signed and could put all her attention to the music again. That’s what she told herself over and over, anyway. To try and mute the reality that this was just the beginning.

This camping trip was a perfect way to unwind, so they took Soundgarden’s broken-down touring van, loaded it with sleeping bags, snacks and weed and found a beautiful spot in the woods on a hiking trail just a few miles outside of Seattle.

She already gave her gift to Stone at home, before they set off on the trip.

“Well, open it!” she excitedly wiggled as they sat down on the floor after Stone blew out his candles - well, one candle stuck in a bowl of dry cereal.

Stone was feeling up the small package with a wide grin on his face, careful not to tear the paper too much. When he unfolded it, he let out a surprised chuckle.

“What’s that?”

“A pan flute!” Keeva exclaimed and laid on her stomach, leaning on her forearms. “I was going past this tiny music store on my way home from the park the other day and they had it on display. The guy said that it’s an antique piece, possibly Art Noveau. It’s technically a variation for children, that’s why it’s pocket-sized. The Romanian ones are usually bigger.”

Stone raised his eyebrows and studied it closer.

It was curved, made from well-kept rosewood and had a cyclamen flower pattern carved all over, along with hand-painted fading red lines woven into the engraving.

“It’s…it’s gorgeous. I don’t know how to play it, though,” he sheepishly shrugged. He was clearly taken aback, turning the instrument in his fingers as if he were looking for instructions. Keeva giggled.

“Just blow.”

Stone squinted at her, smirking.

“I’m not skilled in that point of view,” he said and yelped when Keeva playfully slapped his arm. She took the pan flute from him, licked her lips and put her teeth over her bottom lip.

“It’s just like whistling. You purse your lips like this,” she mumbled and blew into the flute. A rich tone came out, resonating through the concrete walls.

Stone hooted as she handed the instrument back.

“I’m shit at whistling,” he said and then tried to replicate her lip movement, but only a sputtering breath came out. She broke into joyful laughter. He shook his head, but couldn’t help but join her giggles.

“Hey, that wasn’t that bad!”

“I think Zamfir would be rolling in his grave.”

“Zamfir’s not dead yet!”

“I know. But hypothetically, he would be if he’d heard you.”

 

The whole party stomped through the forest, following the trail that was supposed to lead to a campfire spot, huffing and puffing as the setting sun blazed into their eyes.

They were all slowed down by bags and backpacks, so they had a pause earlier to catch their breath and have a drink. The guys already passed around two spliffs on the way. Susan was pretty straight-edge, so Keeva didn’t feel as left out as usual.

After an hour and a half of walking, Mark - the self-proclaimed boy scout that led the way stopped in his tracks and groaned.

“God dammit, we left the grocery bags in the car.”

Various curse words echoed through the silent woods, but Stone just sighed.

“I’ll go get it. I need a walk, anyway. Where the hell did you get that grass, Kim? Feel like my head’s gonna explode.”

Kim just shrugged and raised his arms in defence.

“I told you it was good shit, no one forced you to smoke the whole thing.”

“I’ll go with you,” Keeva popped in and gulped down the rest of her beer. “They say that it’s bad luck to be alone for more than five minutes on your birthday.”

Stone snorted.

“You just made that up, didn’t you?”

“Yup. I’m not letting you wander the woods when you’re baked and dumb.”

“Isn’t he always?” Matt called after them and Stone gave him a middle finger and got ready to holler back, but Keeva just dragged him away down the trail with a grin.

“I won’t confirm or deny that!”

● ● ● ● ● ●

“Ugh, this fucking trail. We’ve been here already,” Keeva whined as they walked onto a familiar patch of soil and leaves surrounded by trees.

She remembered it because it looked like a cute little fairy circle with a big stump.

“No, we weren’t. We’re going in the right direction, I’m sure,” Stone shot back, adjusting one of the grocery bags over his shoulder.

They managed to get back to the car and take everything with them, but they each downed another beer on the way and got so caught up in Keeva’s nerdy lecture about different kinds of flutes that they stopped monitoring the trail signs on the trees.

It took them about an hour to realize they were going around in circles and the sun had already set.

Thankfully, Stone packed a camping lantern but it only helped them see a few feet in front of them and not much else.

Deep down, he was clearly brewing a meltdown - sweating bullets and trying to ignore the bleeding blister on his heel.

“Stoney, come on. We saw this tree half an hour ago,” Keeva pointed at a large oak tree that seemed no different from the others to him.

“Fuck you, you can’t tell,” Stone snapped, huffing as he put the bags down for a second to loosen his arms.

“I can, it has this big branch right there that reminds me of your huge snout,” she pointed at a branch and gave him a little sarcastic smile. Stone loudly groaned, clearly growing irritated.

“Oh yeah, you’re right, we have been here before. See that stump over there? You sat on it and bitched about your little feet hurting. Maybe if we didn’t have to stop, we’d be back before it started getting dark,” he spewed, put the lantern down and fished a can of beer out of the bag.

He cracked it open and chugged it in one go. Keeva looked away to hide her blush, even though she knew it wouldn’t be visible in this light.

Is everything you do hot? That’s unfair to mankind.

She checked her watch. 9 PM.

Fucking hell, I’m gonna get eaten by bears before even having a single legal beer in this shithole country.

And they’ll bury me in a joint grave with this bug-eyed smartass.

“So what do you propose, little Miss Girl Scout?” she asked, immediately gasping and shaking her head when he took off his backpack and sat down on the ground next to the lantern and the stump.

Stone grabbed another beer - probably the sixth one of the day.

“I’ll stay here and wait until they find us,” he simply said.

After a long pause of staring at him in disbelief, Keeva cackled.

“You’re mentally unwell,” she said and started walking away. When he didn’t follow her, she looked at him and raised her eyebrows.

He was stubbornly sitting there, drinking his beer, looking up at the sky. Keeva darted between Stone and the spot was staring at. She could see the stars popping out of the darkness right in front of her eyes.

He fished out the pan flute from his backpack and crossed his legs, softly blowing into it.

He’d been trying to get a proper sound out of it the whole day - much to everyone’s annoyance - but now, he finally nailed it.

Suddenly, he changed in front of her. Gone was the annoying smartass. Stone’s elven features were softly enlightened by the moon that just peeked out from a cloud. The humid summer breeze made some of his hair twist in waves. They cascaded around his pale face, flowing around him every time a whiff of wind tickled his aquiline nose.

Keeva had an unbearable urge to come closer, sit down next to him and touch his flushed cheek to make sure he was real. Study him up close and count every freckle on his face. Trace her fingers along the dimple in the middle of his bottom lip.

Place a kiss on his ear and whisper every thought that ran through her head.

Stone had a small smile dancing on his lips as he closed his eyes and breathed in the crisp earthy air, clearly proud that he finally tamed the flute.

Like a forest spirit unbothered by the hardships of life, he ran his bony fingers through his hair and tucked a lock behind his pointy ear with a heavy exhale.

Then, he nonchalantly rolled the sleeves of his checkered shirt up and rested his arm on the stump, allowing Keeva to study his sinewy forearms that glistened with summer sweat.

His eyes eerily sparkled in the dark as he looked at her for a few seconds before taking another swig of his beer with a shrug.

The smartass was back.

“I don’t wanna get even more lost and I’ve got all the things I need for a celebration right here - snacks, chicks, alcohol. If you sing to me, I’ll blow the flute and we’ll even have music. Dream birthday,” he mused. “And sooner or later, when they run out of their alcohol, they’ll remember that they sent us out here and they’ll come looking for us. Bulletproof plan.”

“Oh, I’m not the chick for you. Too bland,” Keeva scoffed and finally convinced herself to walk over to Stone. The closer she got, the hotter her cheeks burned at the sight of him.

She took one can of beer, too, but she was still determined to go.

“You have no idea what kind of a chick I’d like to have at my birthday party, so don’t put words into my mouth,” he pushed back while offering his can for a toast.

Stone obviously had a lingering grudge against her for stopping to sit down - his tone was cold and condescending. That was like a big red blanket in front of Keeva’s eyes.

We got lost because of you, you baked asshole. You’re gonna get it and I’ll savour every second of your dumb red face.

She clinked her can with his and grinned, taking her backpack off and throwing it next to Stone.

“Oh, I have my sources. Wanna know everything I heard coming out of that chamber of sin?” she teased as she stood above him and took a sip of her beer. Stone immediately knew what she was referring to.

The OK Hotel incident she taunted him with a couple of months ago.

“I was there, I don’t need a refresher,” he scoffed and downed his beer in one long sip. She quickly finished hers, too, to hype herself up.

Do it, pussy. Do it, he’ll be pissed.

Keeva put her hands on her knees and bent down to him, levelling her head with his at an irritatingly close distance. She deepened her voice into an imitation of Stone’s breathy, vulgar tone.

“‘Oh, yeah, sweetheart, you’re doing so good -’”

Stone’s annoyed eyes shot up and he painfully bumped her nose with his head. His cheeks were rapidly growing more flushed as he spoke.

“Keeks, is this necess-”

“‘- oh, sorry, you want me to continue? How can I tell that you like it if you don’t scream for it?’”

The irritated frown started turning into a frigid grimace as he tried to hold it together.

“Shut up, I’m serious -”

You couldn’t shut me up if you tried, bastard.

“‘- that’s it, let me hear you -’”

“I said stop!” Stone raised his voice this time, his eyes flashing with an emotion that was unintelligible to her. That wouldn’t stop her from getting the job done.

Keeva wanted to go back to the others. She couldn’t handle the looming tension for much longer and she definitely didn’t want to go wander the woods at night by herself and leave Stone alone on his birthday.

Just snap already.

“‘- oh, good girl, cum on my fi-’ Ow!”

She couldn’t finish her sentence because Stone suddenly sprung up and accidentally hit her chin with his head, knocking her off balance. As soon as Keeva stabilized - thanks to him grabbing her shoulders before she could fall - he just kept pushing her until her back hit a wide tree.

The pointy bark pinched her skin so she let out a little yelp, but he apparently didn’t care.

Stone didn’t even seem angry. His face was as blank as a sheet of paper and he spoke in a chillingly calm tone, the one he used for his harshest brand of sarcasm.

“You think you’re funny, right? Think you’re clever and above all this earthly bullshit. Looking down at us mortals from the top of the I’m-better-than-you mountain,” he sneered. “If you’re so divine, why won’t you explain to me what were you doing in front of that bathroom, oh Holy Virgin?”

Oh. Oh, fuck. No. No, no, no.

There’s no fucking way.

“The fuck do you mean?” Keeva asked, failing at keeping her voice from cracking. He broke his blank facade with a tiny condescending smirk.

“I thought you were supposed to be clever.”

She just raised her eyebrows and tried to swallow the lump in her throat - she felt like she was going to choke.

“What’s the matter? You have an answer for everything, don’t you?” Stone tipped his head and shrugged. “What were you doing out there?”

“I was waiting for you to fucking leave,” she snapped, but he just rolled his eyes and stepped a bit closer to her.

“So you’re telling me that you were just standing there for an hour and staring into a wall?” he asked, tipping his head to the other side.

There’s no way he knows. He’s baiting. No.

“I -” was all Keeva managed to push out of her lungs. She tried to keep an annoyed straight face as if she was bothered by his stupid untrue questioning.

“I - I - I what?” Stone mocked her stuttering. “You can do better than that. Go on, amuse me with some brash bitching. You’re pretty great at it.”

Keeva couldn’t speak. She tried, but no noise came out. She just stared at Stone, letting the glowing green eyes pin her to the tree as he neared even closer.

He must’ve felt the heat of her cheeks by now.

Another wave of tepid breeze ruffled the leaves and ran through Stone’s hair, making a few stray strands tickle her cheekbone.

He smelled of fresh soil and sweet sweat and alcohol. Intoxicating.

“Disappointing.”

He stopped right where the tips of their noses didn’t yet touch.

“Next time you plan to laugh at me for fucking strangers in bathroom stalls, think back to your pretty little hand in your jeans in front of said bathroom stall while listening to me telling a stranger to cum on my fingers. It might give you some perspective.”

Keeva took a breath to say something, but the way Stone condescendingly tipped his head again made her mouth snap shut.

He then gave her a mocking smile as if he was rewarding her for shutting up and then took the last tiny step to make their noses touch.

His surprisingly cold skin sent a wave of boiling hot blood through her whole body.

“One day, I’ll be the one waiting at the other side of that door. And if I only hear as much as a whimper, I’ll laugh in your fucking face.”

And with that, Stone turned around and walked back to the stump and the lantern. Keeva’s frozen stare didn’t bother him much.

He sat down and started digging around the bag for some snacks, humming a new Paula Abdul song he’d heard on the radio earlier. When he found a bag of spicy Doritos, he whistled and took a swig of his newly opened beer.

“Happy Birthday to me.”

● ● ● ● ● ●

Two hours of awkward silence dragged on as they sat around the stump, wordlessly feasting on the snacks they had two full bags of. Drinks, too, the two six-packs were gone and they cracked open a bottle of tequila, each taking two shots from the lid.

After gulping down the second one, Stone finally spoke. Well, slurred.

“Hey, you can see a big big star there!” he gasped and took Keeva around the shoulders to squeeze her closer and point at the sky.

His body was like a portable heater, all sticky and flushed. Stone dragged her over himself and sat her in his lap. Keeva felt like a rag doll from all the drinking and junk food, so she gladly let him, snuggling up closer.

The humidity was sky-high and suffocating, but somehow, in his company, in the dark forest meadow enlightened only by the lantern and the moon, it felt like a dream.

A really hot, heavy, head-spinning dream.

“You’re so smart it makes my tits tingle.”

“Can I ask, like, a really serious question?” he mumbled after a moment of pondering, resting his chin on the top of her head. Keeva chuckled.

“I don’t know, can you? You can hardly talk,” she giggled as her own tongue tripped over itself.

“I’ll manage,” Stone said and sat up a bit more straight.

“M’kay, go for it.”

Silence.

“Do you like me?”

His voice seemed strangely sober as he fiddled with a loose thread on her jeans. Her eyes popped open, but she managed to keep composure.

“What?”

“You deaf?” Stone mumbled. They were both slightly swaying from side to side and every time the wind blew, it seemed to move them like waves on water.

“I mean, of course,” Keeva stuttered after clearing her throat. “Of course I do, you’re my best friend. Like, the best one I’ve ever had.”

Nailed it. God, I hope I nailed it.

“Why won’t you let me in?” he said and let his head slide down her sweaty curls to rest on her shoulder. She frowned.

“In where?”

“Dunno. Just…in,” Stone replied with a shrug.

“You’re more ‘in’ than anyone ever has been, trust me,” she chuckled and leaned her head back. Stone’s hair tickled her cheek as she looked up at the swirling sky, his bony shoulder digging into the back of her head.

“Doesn’t feel like it. Sometimes,” he muttered and paused with a sigh. “There’s just…some days when you look at me, there’s something in there that I can’t put my finger on. I can’t figure out what it is and you won’t tell me, like it’s out of limits or something. Like a ‘stop snooping around’ zone.”

When she didn’t say anything, Stone scoffed.

“Exactly like this. Just wish you’d feel more comfortable, I guess.”

Keeva didn’t know what to say. It was painful to hear his doubts, but at the same time, she perfectly understood the feeling.

“Don’t know if you like me, either,” she muttered after a long moment of silence.

“I’m confused about that, too, believe it or not.”

“You also don’t know if you like me or not? That’s encouraging,” she chuckled, but Stone clearly didn’t mean it as a joke, considering his frustrated groan.

“I do. You’re -” he paused and harshly tugged on the thread. She could hear the wheels turning in Stone’s head as his wasted brain tried to find the right words. “I want you to be my friend, I want it to stay the way it is, but I just…fuck, you’re right, I can hardly talk.”

Keeva stared up at the glowing moon, emotionless. She could tell where this was going and she tried her best to brace for it.

You don’t want this. You don’t want this and you can’t handle it. You’ll go crazy.

“I guess I’m just shit at sweet-talking,” Stone added and finally tore off the thread on her pants. He rolled it between his fingers into a ball and threw it away, then snaked his hand around Keeva’s waist.

“I mean -” she started without thinking. Her imtoxicated mind couldn’t stop itself. “I’ve heard your praises before. We’ve already dissected that earlier, though, and I don’t think either of us enjoyed that, so let’s not -”

Fuck, why the hell are you bringing that up right now, idiot?!

“But that’s what I’m saying,” Stone mumbled and started caressing her stomach with his thumb. “I’m shit at talking but I’m pretty well versed at actions.”

Keeva knew it was coming, but Stone’s irritatingly brash tone still hit her like a freight train and made a painfully hot blush spread across her face.

She set her eyes in front of her and tried to discipline herself by staring deep into the void between the trees.

Stone’s voice was as airy as the July breeze around them.

“I’d make you feel good, you know. I’d make you feel real good. Here,” he hummed and carefully observed Keeva’s reaction as he slowly snuck his hand under her cropped t-shirt and placed it on her wildly beating heart. She felt like it was soon going to jump out of her ribcage.

She cursed herself for not wearing a bra, even though that clearly wasn’t something he minded.

She couldn’t keep in a hiccuped breath and that gave Stone a sign that it was okay to move his feather-light fingers to the left and softly draw a circle around her nipple before taking his hand out again.

“And here -” he ran his finger down her stomach and stopped right above the rim of her jeans, tracing small loops along her naked abdomen.

Then, Stone reached up and caressed her along the jaw, up her cheek and stopped at her temple, gently tapping it.

“- maybe even here.”

She had to take a couple of deep breaths before being able to talk.

“Why?”

Proud that she managed not to turn around at him, Keeva arched her back under his embrace to stretch some of the tension out, but it only worsened, because it allowed Stone to cage her between his legs even tighter.

It dawned on her that he was undoubtedly enjoying himself, and that took away any of her remaining common sense.

“It makes the pain go away,” Stone whispered into her ear while putting a bit of pressure on her temple, circling it with his thumb.

Keeva felt a stab in her heart - a different one than when he cupped her naked skin. Even though he had her melted in the palm of his hand, he gave her nothing but raw practicality.

“Nothing makes the pain go away,” she sighed, shivering.

“You wouldn’t know, would you, Baby?” Stone nudged her cheek with his. His warm sticky skin made goosebumps rise up along her arms as he bent his head and placed a soft kiss on the nape of her neck.

The nickname was emphasized and it never felt so personal. Mocking.

“You’re naive,” Keeva tried to fight back, but couldn’t hold back another sigh when Stone rewarded her jab with another kiss, this time much less gentle.

“Maybe,” he mumbled. “You’re bitter.”

“Takes one to know one,” she shrugged, squirming when he softly bit her. She felt like she was having a fever. Stone scoffed.

“You’re stuck-up,” he slurred and brushed some of Keeva’s curls away, gently tugging on them so she’d bend her head back. She softly hissed.

“You’re a prick.”

Stone grinned against her skin as he placed another wet kiss under her ear.

“Bad news, I like it when you insult me,” he jabbed and grinned even wider when Keeva momentarily snapped out of her brain fog and frowned.

He somehow seemed more annoying than ever and it was driving her insane.

“So you’re a freak, too,” she scoffed over her shoulder, but Stone tugged on her hair again to move her back in place so he’d have easier access to her skin.

“Yup. Takes one to know one,” he muttered before giving her a long, sloppy kiss right above her clavicle. A buzzing sharp pain ran down her spine when Stone sucked on the thin skin.

“Fuck, stop - you’re gonna leave a -”

“I don’t care,” he interrupted and sealed it with a soft bite. “Let them see.”

Keeva took a deep, deep breath.

“You think the whole world revolves around you,” she shot back, but he just shrugged and lifted her t-shirt over her breasts. The tepid air suddenly turned freezing cold.

“Good try. You’re never gonna win this, sorry,” Stone scoffed and expertly twisted her around in one brisk move so they’d be face to face.

Keeva wasn’t prepared for that possibility. She didn’t have a plan on how to avoid his scrutinizing stare. She didn’t want her will to break that fast. But alas, once he locked eyes with her, she was gone.

Stone’s pupils were wildly dilated and his eyes were half-lidded, he was obviously floating in a haze of his own. Somehow, the green seemed to be the most vivid Keeva had ever seen it. As if he sucked it out of the trees around them.

How could I possibly survive this when I live with the fucking Medusa?

She took a shaky breath.

“Insufferable.”

Stone chuckled, tipping his head as he always did when he taunted her.

“And you are a pussy,” he shot back and squeezed Keeva closer to him when she finally gave up and twisted her legs around his waist. Stone rested his forehead on hers, but he didn’t move an inch closer. All parts of their bodies were touching, except for the lips.

Keeva sighed.

*Oh yeah, nearly forgot. No kissing. That’s a good policy.*

“Jokes on you, ‘cause I love it when you insult me,” she mumbled and made him giggle. Stone’s laughter was always so contagious, she couldn’t help but laugh back.

“Fine, you’re a bitch, then,” he said with a shrug and moved back to her neck, kissing his way down to her chest, painfully slow.

“You’re too hot for your own good,” Keeva breathed out and buried her hands in his damp hair. She could feel Stone’s smug smirk against her skin.

“Am I?”

Keeva gave his hair a little tug and he reacted with a sound that almost resembled a moan.

“You’re also vain,” she whispered and tugged again when Stone kissed her breast, her confidence boosted. He let out another noise.

“And you like it,” he mumbled just as he was about to move further down. He stopped, though, hovering in front of her chest as his hot breath tickled her tender skin.

After a few moments, Keeva tried to push him closer again, but Stone didn’t budge. He just straightened his back and put her t-shirt back down. She had no control over herself as she writhed in frustration with a whine.

“Told you you wouldn’t win,” he smirked and rested his forehead on hers again. Keeva decided to test Stone’s resilience by shuffling in his lap, but he sternly grabbed her waist and held her in place, tutting.

Her annoyed frown made him laugh again.

The loud buzzing in her ears when they fell silent made her head hurt - and that began to slowly sober her up from the thick haze in her brain.

What exactly are we doing here? Friends don’t do this.

This is not friendly behaviour.

“We could do it any time we’d need to unwind,” Stone finally spoke. His voice was soft and fragile, as if he was whispering along with the rustling leaves. “Pure companionship. Nothing but a friendly help out.”

Keeva bitterly scoffed as the fog slowly melted and her senses came back.

“You have a lot of friends that would gladly help out, Stoney,” she whispered and nudged his pointy nose with hers. He closed his eyes to collect his thoughts.

For a split second, she wondered if Stone, too, felt like he was living with the Medusa.

“No,” he breathed out. “No one like you.”

Before Keeva could answer, a branch cracked somewhere in the distance.

They both jumped further away from each other before Stone grabbed her, turned her around in his lap again and squeezed her closer, shielding her with his arm.

“Don’t move, it will leave if it doesn’t hear us,” he barely whispered and wrapped himself around her even more in defence. Keeva frowned but shuffled as close to him as she could.

“The fuck do you mean, ‘it’?” she said but Stone harshly shushed her. After a few seconds of horror, they both relaxed once Steve’s voice echoed through the trees.

“Hey guys! Where are you?”

The other voice was Shawn.

“Stoney? Keeks? Hello?”

She could almost feel Stone’s eye roll.

“We’re here, you lazy fucks!”

“Hey! Where the hell were you?” Shawn questioned with a worried frown as the two figures emerged from the darkness, holding their own camping lanterns.

“Clearly having a fucking ball, where were you?! How did it take you four hours to start looking for us?” Keeva spat at them and quickly hopped up, brushing dry leaves off of her ass.

She turned back at Stone, whose unreadable expression made her head spin.

He looked at her, his eyes slightly less feverish, and his curt but disappointed nod was a clear sign that he agreed that this conversation was meant to be had sober and at home.

“I mean, we thought you had a better sense of orientation,” Steve barged in with a shrug. “Plus, there was the sentiment that perhaps you needed some alone time and believe me, nobody around that campfire wants to walk in on that, so…”

“You’re a funny bloke, Stevie,” Keeva gave him a sarcastic smile when he drunkenly giggled. “Not right now, mind you, but sometimes, I’m sure.”

“Oh, we might need your medical assistance, Stoney,” he said as he helped Stone get up.

“Mark and Chris took some shrooms, you gotta see that,” Shawn shook his head. “I’ve never seen anyone trip their balls off that hard. Chris started making out with a tree because he mistook it for Susan who was right next to it, so Mark tried to drag him away. But they started wrestling and now he has a bloody scratch on his nose and probably gave Mark a stye. And Kim laughed so hard his stomach started cramping and he got sick. Matt had to hold his hair back, didn’t know he was such a gentleman. Wait, where’s all the stuff?”

He rummaged through the bags as Keeva curiously loomed over his shoulder and watched him dig around the empty cans and chips packages, patting his back.

“It’s gone to my head, love. Big time.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

[tryskomys]

Wet Sand

Stone Gossard x OC

Chapter 8 - Over My Head

Summary: that would be a shame.

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

notes: didn’t expect to finish another chapter this week, yay! i hate hate hate describing outfits, it always feels so wattpad. but hey, hopefully it’s digestable. this one somehow feels short - still, it’s 4,1k but you know, sometimes it just has this vibe. hope you like it anyway <3

tws: none this time, just lead-heavy tension and a bit of clumsy fluff.

songs:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

22.4.1988

Keys rattled in the main door and Stone hurried in, his grown-out hair slightly sticking to his forehead. Keeva peeked out of the curtain in front of her room, holding an eyeliner pencil.

“Okay, this is the only brown colour they had, but I think it’ll do,” he called over his shoulder, waving to call her downstairs.

“Perfect! I asked your mom for a hair dryer, it’s in the bathroom,” she said and gathered her makeup. She hopped down, trying to shake the nervous chills off when he turned around and looked at her.

Xana worked in a little vintage clothes shop and when Keeva mentioned that she didn’t own a dress, she rummaged through the depths of the shelves and gave her one with a huge sale. She even altered the seemingly shapeless drape of dark purple linen into a cute sundress.

She wanted Keeva to have a fancy look for the first official Mother Love Bone concert - Andy came up with the name and no one had the slightest idea what it meant, but it was perfectly weird and off-the-wall, just like his lyrics.

Keeva felt so uneasy. She hadn’t worn a dress since fifth-grade prom and Xana didn’t exactly leave much to imagination.

The thin straps were really too much for her, so she put on a baggy checkered shirt she stole from Stone’s drawer and decided to wear the dress on top of it.

The dress was too short as well, but she managed to make herself feel a bit better with some bike shorts she found at the bottom of her suitcase and thick woollen socks.

She was dreading Stone’s reaction, expecting him to either laugh at her or at least tease her heart out of her throat for being scared to wear a skirt.

She could already hear his nagging nasal voice in her head.

‘Awooga! Look who’s here, the Virgin Mary herself. What are the shorts for, Baby? Afraid to show an inch of your thigh?’

It was very refreshing when he just looked Keeva up and down and quickly turned back around without a word, digging around the CVS bag he brought with him. She softly sighed, trying to shoo the uncomfortable thoughts out of her brain.

Wow. Great. Gee thanks, that was such a nice thing to say, Stoney. You’re so sweet.

“Lookit,” Stone said after clearing his throat and handed her a box of brown hair dye. “You think it’s fine?”

“Yeah, that looks about right,” Keeva nodded and reached up to compare the photo of the brunette woman on the packaging with Stone’s roots. “Yup. Well, bathroom, off you go. I’ll be there in a sec.”

On cue, he ran his hand through his hair and walked away, unusually sheepish. She shook her head and quickly finished the eyeliner, her fingers jittery.

Jesus, is it that bad? Should I change?

Keeva threw the pencil away on his bed with slightly too much strength before following him to the bathroom. Stone was sitting on the cold tiled floor, picking on his nails. She started unpacking the box dye while carefully watching him rub his fingers together.

“You want the roots too or just the grown-out part?” she questioned, skimming over the instructions.

“Just the orange bit,” he took a fleeting look at her legs and quickly focused back on his hands.

“Calm down,” she softly mumbled, making him frown.

“I am calm.”

Stone’s fidgets were a clear indicator that he was, in fact, not calm.

They played a few house parties over the last two months, but this was different.

A proper show at The OK Hotel.

“When was your last gig?” Keeva ignored his irritated tone as she put the rubber gloves on and vigorously shook the plastic bottle of liquid to mix it with the dye powder.

“October,” Stone muttered and put his index finger to his mouth to chew on it. “You?”

“May,” she answered, softly tutting to make him stop. He just threw her an annoyed look and continued to bite on his hangnails.

As Keeva hovered above him with the dye bottle, Stone laid his hands in his lap and closed his eyes as if he was bracing for some sort of impact.

“You ready?” she sweetly scratched his head and he visibly relaxed, humming in agreement. “Good boy.”

That made Stone snicker and he reached out to pinch her calf. She squealed and gave him a little kick before proceeding to squeeze a bit of dye in his hair and smearing it in.

After a few moments of anxious silence, it was as if a switch flipped in him and he straightened his back with a big sigh, levelling his head with her stomach. Then, he rested his forehead on her hip bone. Keeva shivered.

Don’t do this to me.

“Careful, you’ll ruin my fancy dress,” she near-whispered and took a tiny step back, but he just chuckled, his breath tickling her thigh.

“That would be a shame,” Stone mumbled and lifted his head with an absent gaze. He raised his hand to softly tug at the rim of her skirt. “It’s nice.”

A painful rush of red filled Keeva’s cheeks as he slowly ran the tip of his index finger up her thigh and under her skirt. A freezing jolt of chills ran down her spine and she twitched - accidentally sending her knee forward. She softly kicked Stone in the chest, but he didn’t seem too bothered, tutting.

“Ow,” he lazily deadpanned and finally shuffled further away from her. She let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding.

What the fuck is your problem, beanpole?

Keeva couldn’t decide if the silence was awkward or not, but it was nerve-wracking either way.

“You’re still breathing on my leg,” she said as she rubbed the dye between her fingers, working it into a strand of Stone’s hair. He hummed.

“I am.”

“It tickles.”

“Tough shit,” he scoffed and softly blew on her skin. She kicked him again, this time on purpose. Stone grabbed her leg mid-air and started tickling her knee.

“Stop!” she yelped and and tried to step back. “I have your precious hair in my hands, asshole, don’t test me!”

They yanked each other back and forth for a few moments before Stone finally let go of her leg with a loud hiss.

“Ow! Okay, yield, yield, Jesus!”

Keeva stopped pulling his hair, too, giggling.

“The longer you distract me, the longer it will take and we have to leave in two hours. So if you want to go out there with ammonia mud in your hair, go ahead,” she spewed, nudging him with her foot. Stone wolf-whistled.

“I’m distracting you? You sweet talker,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, your pants are too tight,” she gave him a sarcastic smile and he - slightly panicked - quickly looked down at his jeans, then back at her.

“Your dress is too short,” he mirrored Keeva’s smile and watched her get red in the face again, clearly entertained.

Yeah, thanks for the honesty, mate.

Encouraging as always.

“I know it is,” she muttered under her breath and then took a long pause. “You think I should change?”

Her voice came out much more insecure than she planned. Stone tilted his head and Keeva was surprised that he seemed so puzzled.

“Of course not,” he frowned as if it was the most obvious answer under the sun.

“What’s ‘of course’ about that? It’s short and I’m short and my knees are scabby and I have bruises all over my legs and -”

“You look amazing, shut up,” he said matter-of-factly. Keeva raised her eyebrows.

That almost sounded like a Stone compliment.

“You shut up,” she shook her head with a bashful grin and hurried to break the eye contact. She pretended to squint at whatever she was doing. Whenever Stone’s hair was wet or tied back in any way, his stare somehow managed to be even more overwhelming.

“Thanks,” she silently added and quickly tried to change the subject. “What are you wearing, anyway?”

“Nothing this cute, let me tell you that much,” Stone started poking her knee again and she gave him an annoyed frown.

Yup. Here comes the mocking.

“Sorry,” he chuckled and raised his arms in surrender. “Uh, I don’t know. Probably a Green River t-shirt, that seems like a nice touch of irony.

Keeva snorted.

“No, you will not.”

“Watch me,” he shrugged. “I think I’ll take the Scumbag cowboy hat, too.”

“Oh, good grief,” she whined, holding back a laugh.

“Here we go! This is the shit,” Andy exclaimed and reached into one of the large bags of clothes in front of him. He fished out a felt cowboy hat with a few huge feathers sticking out from behind the rim. Stone started laughing, immediately grabbed it and put it on.

“Jesus Christ,” Keeva stuttered out and slapped her forehead. Andy and Regan clapped.

“Oh, you have to,” Regan cackled, whistling when Stone batted his eyelashes.

“It looks so fucking good with the whiskers, you’d be drowning in pussy if you wore this every day,” Andy giggled and kept on digging in the bag.

“Ew, don’t encourage him! I live in the same room,” she complained and started searching through one of the bags as well.

“Shut up, Baby, you’re just jealous that you don’t have a cool hat,” Stone grinned as he took it off, studying the feathers closer. She hooted.

“Oh, but I do,” she said and pulled out a big satin top hat. They all gasped.

“Put it on! Put it on!” Regan chanted and loudly wolf-whistled when she did. It was slightly big for her, but she felt amazing. It felt like armour.

“Are we playing any T. Rex today?” she giggled, looking up at the rim of the top hat with childlike delight. Stone giggled.

“Well, now we are!”

“Yay! Thus, Tom and Jerry’s Scumbag Jukebox was born,” Andy announced and clapped, clearly overjoyed.

Stone and Keeva exchanged a look and after a few seconds of silence, they both burst out in giggles - and they continued to do so until they were both on the floor, tangled into each other as they cramped through a fit of laughter.

“If you wear your Scumbag hat, I’ll wear my Scumbag hat,” she warned and wiggled her finger at him after putting a plastic shower cap on his stained hair. “Done.”

“Please, wear your Scumbag hat. That will be, like, a crown to this outfit,” Stone chuckled and tugged on her skirt one more time before getting up. Keeva narrowed her eyes at him.

Great. Great for my confidence.

“What now?” he added, taking a look in the shabby little mirror above the sink.

“Thirty minutes and wash it off,” she said and took her rubber gloves off. “But honestly we could keep it like this, too. The slicked-back look really makes your eyes pop.”

Stone looked at her and slowly widened his eyes while extending his arms, creeping closer to her. She squealed and started running out of the bathroom - however, he caught up with her in two brisk steps. He grabbed Keeva from behind with a theatrical growl, lifted her off her feet and started spinning in a circle.

“No, put me down! Careful with the dress!” she screeched through laughter, frantically slapping his forearms. Stone cackled and squeezed his arms around her waist.

“Would be a shame, wouldn’t it? Haha!”

“Yes, it would, put me down!”

“Say you look great and I’ll release you from my clutches,” he squeezed tighter and started spinning faster.

“Let me go!”

“Say ‘I look great!’” he mocked her accent with a high-pitched voice.

“Stop, I’m gonna be sick, Stoney!”

“Say it!”

“Okay, I look great!” she yelped and Stone finally stopped spinning, but still didn’t put her back on her feet.

“See? Wasn’t that hard,” he hummed, shaking Keeva from side to side. He squeezed her one more time in a tight hug and then set her back on the ground, planted a quick kiss on her burning cheek and hopped away to his clothes drawer with a cocky grin.

● ● ● ● ● ●

“Ow! Son of a bitch!” Stone’s yelp echoed from the bathroom, followed by a fierce kick into the lousy cupboard under the sink.

“Calm your tits, I’m not fixing the door again,” Keeva chuckled and walked in to see what’s going on.

Stone had washed the dye off and blow-dried his hair, now attempting to detangle a scrunchie out of his ponytail. It was a bit dehydrated from the dye, so it easily matted into a big messy knot.

The darker hair looked amazing. It definitely gave him a certain air of maturity, a thought that made Keeva laugh as she watched his childish frown.

He was redoing the ponytail for the fourth time. She had no clue why, it looked the same as always, but Stone just wasn’t satisfied with it. Now, he was just aggressively pulling while grunting in frustration.

“Jesus, how did you manage to do this?” Keeva squinted, stepping on her tiptoes. She tugged on his kaleidoscope vest to take a closer look.

Stone was already in his chosen gig outfit - he really did put on a Green River t-shirt and she could do nothing as he threatened to spin her around again if she didn’t stop nagging.

“I don’t fucking know, I’ve been standing here for, like, half an hour and I can’t get…this…fucking…thing…out. Ouch!” he squealed again when Keeva tried to help him.

“I can’t see shit in this lighting, move,” she mumbled and grabbed the hairbrush he was holding. She dragged Stone out of the door by the wrist like a little kid.

“You’ll be bald by thirty if you keep fucking with it like that,” she said as she tugged him down on the floor with her. “Sit.”

“I’m not a dog, asshole,” Stone muttered back but did as she said and crossed his legs. He hissed when Keeva pulled him by the tangled mess so he’d shuffle closer to her.

“Yeah, dogs don’t yap as much. Stop bitching and stay put,” she retorted and slapped his hand away when he tried to rip on his hair again.

Now softer, Keeva pulled a little so he’d tilt his head back, giving her a better look at where the knots were.

“Good grief. Why did you redo it, anyway? It looked great on the first try,” she tutted and started carefully untangling the mess strand by strand. Stone finally seemed to calm down a bit.

“It was uneven and it looked like shit, so I tried to make it straight, but I loosened it too much. So I untied it and did it again and that was off, too.”

“Ehm ehm, Narcissus,” she teased, giggling when Stone reached behind him to pinch her thigh.

He hissed in pain when she accidentally ripped a lone hair out in an attempt to wiggle it out of the scrunchie.

“Fuck. Sorry, Stoney, sorry,” she whispered, cringing at his pained grunt. “Stop wiggling.”

“It’s just at this weird length where I can’t put it up without having a bunch of little hairs sticking out like a muppet and it’s bothering the fuck out of me and now it looks even worse when it’s not bleached,” he rambled and waved his arms around, which caused another few accidental rips. “Maybe I should shave it off.”

“Yeah, over my dead body, mate.” Keeva scoffed and quickly checked her watch. They still had a solid hour before Bruce was supposed to pick them up for the soundcheck.

“What, you think I couldn’t pull it off?” Stone asked with a grin, finally easing under her hands.

She couldn’t stop her vivid imagination from carrying her away.

She pictured him with a buzz cut, which made his strange features even stronger - the Roman nose seemed longer, the cheekbones and jawline sharper, and the freckles more noticeable.

And the eyes. Oh, the eyes. She definitely couldn’t take any more of that.

The glistening sweat on his temples and cheeks without any hair obscuring his flushed face made her heartbeat far too quick for her liking, snapping her out of her thoughts.

She shook her head when the fading image of an older Stone - with a shaved head and an unshaved face - smirked.

Keeva successfully detangled the last strand and theatrically threw the scrunchie across the room, then gave Stone a brief playful scratch and took the hairbrush.

No way I’m allowing that. Keep it ‘til you’re old enough to be hot.

“I mean, sure you could. But you seem to be -” she raised an eyebrow at Stone’s perfectly timed heavy sigh, “- enjoying yourself just the way it is. Maybe we could make a deal…let’s see. If we ever play, like, a really big festival, then you can shave your head.”

As soon as the brush touched Stone’s scalp, he leaned his head back and his eyes fluttered closed.

“What’s a really big festival? How many people are we talking?” he said with a growing smile.

“Not in terms of people, just…you know, the feeling,” she shrugged.

Stone chuckled.

“Deal.”

After all the knots were gone, Keeva neatly brushed half of his hair up, took the thin blue scrunchie on her wrist and softly tied it into a high ponytail.

She noticed that he tilted further and further back under her fingers, slowly resting his body against her chest. By the time she was done, Stone’s head was lying on her shoulder as he silently hummed an unintelligible tune with his eyes closed.

Keeva had never seen him so peaceful before. So innocent. A whiplash-inducing contrast to his prickly attitude from earlier.

How very you.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me now, you’ll mess up my masterpiece,” she softly nudged Stone, but he didn’t budge.

“There’s a knot right under my ear and it’s really pulling, maybe you should give it another brush,” he mumbled, not moving an inch. Keeva chuckled again and decided to entertain his jabs.

She put the hairbrush away and ran her fingers through the loose waves. Stone sighed again.

“Still pulling.”

She briefly brushed her knuckle against his artery while reaching up. She could swear she felt his heartbeat fasten. There were no knots left, but Stone’s eyelashes fluttered every time she touched his scalp and that was enough to make her play along.

“Pulling,” he lazily muttered, egging Keeva on to continue.

“Oh, wait, I think there’s a tangle right here,” she whispered and reached to the other side of his head, running her fingers through the brown strands behind his ear.

A chuckle rumbled in his chest, followed by a deep sigh.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he breathed out.

A rush of blood inflamed her face and she snapped out of the dreamy limbo she was floating in.

Stone was lying in her lap, resting his forehead on the nape of her neck. When he spoke, his nose brushed against her clavicle and his shivering exhale tickled her skin.

“Fuck, I wouldn’t shave it if they paid me.”

Keeva couldn’t stop herself from caressing him again. She knew that she was just adding new knots by brushing through the hair over and over, but he didn’t seem to mind.

On the contrary, Stone’s ears were growing warm and red and so were his freckled cheeks, forming a burning patchy blush to match hers.

She was too busy studying his peaceful features to realize that she rested her arms around his neck in a loose embrace.

“You’re a witch, you know that?” he mumbled after a few minutes of silence, finally opening his eyes. Up until that point, she thought that he’d actually fallen asleep.

However, Stone seemed completely lucid when he darted across Keeva’s face with curiosity, as if she were a compelling book. His eyebrows slowly knitted into a soft frown when he stopped at her lips.

“What time is it?” he suddenly asked before she could speak, completely glossing over the previous comment. Keeva blinked a few times, still digesting his scrutinizing stare.

“Uh, half past four. We still have, like, a bit over an hour -”

“Cool,” Stone interrupted her and abruptly snaked out of her arms, stood up and skipped over to the bathroom in long hops.

“Thanks, Baby. I dub thee my official hairstylist from now on, looks fine,” he called after her. Keeva still sat in stunned silence, giving her cheeks a few slaps to drag herself out of the haze.

“Wait, like I’m forever stuck untangling your knotty scrunchies like you’re a little girl? Braiding your pigtails?”

“Better leave it up to you, then it will be your fault if I’m bald at thirty,” Stone peeked out of the door and stuck his tongue out at her.

“And pray tell, what do I get out of it?” she crossed her arms and squinted at him. He shrugged.

“You get to play with my luscious locks, of course.”

Keeva raised her eyebrows.

“You just said you look like a muppet, but fair. You know what that means though, right?”

“Hm?” he frowned.

“You have my hair tie. You’re branded as my property now.”

“Backhanded flirting doesn’t work on me and you know it, sweetheart,” Stone shot back a bit too casually for her ego’s liking and disappeared back into the bathroom. “I’m free as a bird and I intend to keep it that way.”

“Keep whatever you want, Casanova,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “But it’s like, the kindergarten rule number one. ‘Thou shalt belongest to the wench whose scrunchie thou wearest on thy wrist.’ Something like that.”

Stone’s chuckle rang in her ears, but he had no further snappy comments.

● ● ● ● ● ●

The OK was packed. Way more than they’d expected. Although Andy carried himself like the confident frontman he strived to be, his giddy nervousness backstage was extremely contagious.

Keeva didn’t mind, though, as it was a welcome change from her sickening nervousness - she had to leave the soundcheck two times to vomit.

Once they came on, though, it was like something possessed her and took away the tense cramp in her stomach.

Greg was tightly holding everything together, effortlessly professional and giving her encouraging smiles whenever the two of them found the right groove for a song.

Jeff was jumping around and bopping his head while never missing a beat, she had to come over to him a few times to lift his floppy hat away from his eyes - and she earned a huge twinkling smile from him.

Andy bounced around like a flying comet, commanding all the attention of the crowd and playing them like a fiddle, while Bruce watched him with a gleeful smile, overjoyed to be on stage again working his black-and-white Telecaster.

The lights were low and dimly glowed through the small venue. She could see the encouraging faces, familiar or not, whistling and headbanging like there was no tomorrow.

The whole of Soundgarden, Regan and his and Stone’s friends Shawn and Josh, Jerry and Mike from Alice in Chains, some of the guys from Sub Pop and hers and Jeff’s co-workers. Even Mark and Steve from Green River showed up, along with their new bandmates - all four of them screamed their hearts out and Mark even crowd-surfed at one point. Xana was there, too, clapping and hooting from the side of the stage.

Stone was in his element, writhing from side to side as he mouthed along to his riffs. It was mesmerizing - the way his flushed cheekbones shimmered when Andy called for a lone string of light to be pointed at his lanky friend.

She could do nothing but stare at him in awe, quickly closing her agape mouth shut whenever he turned at her with a half-lidded and out-of-focus gaze, barely present as he gave her a firm nod to cue her to join him.

He had such a strange way of handling himself while playing, a silhouette that haunted her dreams.

“What?”

“Nothing, just your posture.”

“What’s wrong with my posture?”

“Nothing wrong with it, it’s just…it suits you. Perfect ninety degrees. Edgy.”

“I get cramps when I angle it. It’s the arms. You know - beanpole.”

“Hey, can you turn the reverb down a bit?” Stone called after her during one of Andy’s in-between-song comedic routines. They stood right next to each other, but her ears were buzzing, so she gave him a confused frown.

“Huh?”

“The reverb,” he mouthed again, but Keeva shrugged. He shuffled over to her, a bit out of breath from jumping around.

He affectionately took her around her shoulders and squeezed her closer - his cheek was sweaty and flaming hot as he brushed against her forehead while bending down to her.

“The reverb, could you turn it down?”

This time she heard him, leaning back to press her lips against his ear.

“Come again? Sorry, I can’t hear a word you’re saying over that absurd hat, feels like it’s screaming into my face.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

[tryskomys]

Wet Sand

Stone Gossard x OC

Chapter 7 - Bloodshot Ruby

Summary: i am her. it’s her fault.

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

notes: working title: Stone and His *Day* of Wonders.

it has come to my attention that the haters said i will have seven OR more chapters without a proper and thorough Stone POV. pft, excuse me?! not in this household, haters, not on my watch. i max out at six.

minors - naughty, watch out. bet you’ve read much much worse (maybe even on yours truly, tryskomys blog) and will definitely laugh at my disclaimer.

(a tiny note for those reading from the start - i proof-read the past chapters again and changed up a few words, such as kiki’s nickname now only appearing in the dialogue bc keeva is a rly pretty name and i want it to be seen ok?? <3 to any keevas out there ily and i gotta put some respect to your name lol)

jesus, these chapter notes of mine will soon reach the word count of an average tryskomys chapter. and that’s saying something.

tws: news flash - the actions described in this text are not a healthy way to deal with emotions. nothing too explicit but alluding to the word that ends with the same five letters as ‘situation’ and the bad word that sounds suspiciously close to…‘snacks’? whatever !!!SAFE SEX RULES EVERYONE!!!

ok bye enjoy

songs:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .���。.・゜✭・.・✫

“Stoney? Stone. Stone, tell me you’re joking.”

“I forgot to call him.”

“You forgot?”

“Yes, I did. I’ll call him as soon as we leave, I’ll take care of it.”

“But -”

“Let’s move on, we gotta end in half an hour. Take it from the top - Stardog. Everyone ready?”

As winter faded, February and March seamlessly blended together. Not that it was any less cold or damp - it was still Seattle.

But - much to Stone’s annoyance - the afternoon sun was already growing way too bold. It was ruthlessly tickling his eyes as he stomped through the streets, alone.

His boots splashed against the melting snow along the way home from rehearsal.

It was fruitful, until both guys from Malfunkshun - meaning Andy’s brother Kevin and Regan - walked in on them practising with both Andy and Greg, the drumming legend of the Seattle underground.

Stone had already played a couple of house parties with Jeff, Keeva, Bruce, Andy and Regan. They just went in, got drunk for free, covered a bunch of songs and had a grand fucking time doing it, too.

To him, it felt amazing. Besides Andy’s larger-than-life voice, the booming sound of the triad of guitars was just magical - Keeva’s psychedelic and experimental tinkering and Bruce’s soulful-yet-edgy solos fit so well with Stone’s dirty funk riffs.

And he wanted to have a band with Regan ever since they were pimply preteens.

But Jeff, apparently unable to skip an opportunity to be a thorn in Stone’s side, just didn’t click with him. And that was always an immovable problem when it came to a bassist-drummer relationship.

So Stone was, as always, tasked to give the hard and stern announcement.

Yeah, sure, leave it to Stone.

The calculating Stone. The level-headed Stone. The pragmatic Stone. The emotionless Stone. The ‘nomen est omen’ Stone.

He was sick of it.

Frowning, he harshly chewed on his bottom lip and huddled himself deeper into his scarf.

How could you forget something that important, you -

No. No, no, it’s her fault. It’s her fault.

Stone rubbed off a damp drop at the tip of his freezing nose and adjusted the guitar case that hung on his shoulder.

He knew precisely what was wrong with him.

That night, he had a nightmare. He was trapped in a maze of tapestries - they surrounded him from all sides, each one of a different shape and size. At first, it seemed like they were vignettes of some strangely shaped landscapes and woods.

Only after Stone took a closer look at the biggest one, the blood in his veins curdled as he realized that all of the embroidery depicted his friends - many of his friends, all lying dead in grotesque positions like battered rag dolls.

Surrounded by heaps of dirty drug paraphernalia, taking their own lives...so many.

Mountains upon mountains of bodies - and at the very top sat a lone crying figure, delicate like a porcelain doll about to break. She was the only one moving.

Pale, naked, shivering. She was extending her shaky hands as if she was begging him to free her. He reached out, but she was stuck in the tapestry, crying louder and louder as he desperately clawed on the fabric in an attempt to rip her out of the horror.

That’s when he woke up - deep into the night and drenched in cold sweat. Her fading screams were still ringing in his ears.

After a few moments, he realized that something dragged him out of the terror. His hazy mind caught the faint sound of a muffled tune coming from upstairs.

Suddenly, Stone was convinced that he’d just woken up in a different, prettier dream - everything seemed so cloudy and unclear. He got up and walked over to the stairs. He felt like he was floating through the room, light-headed and weightless.

Her curtain was nearly closed, but he caught a peek of her through the small gap between the fabric and the frame.

Her silhouette was enlightened by the faint warm light above her bed - it made her rosy curls glow like a halo.

The way her fingers danced around the fretboard was hypnotic, producing sounds that he didn’t even know a guitar could make. The melody was entrancing, like something you would only hear in - well, a dream. That only solidified Stone’s deluded belief.

Closing her eyes, her lips parted as she quietly started humming a harmonic second line to her strings.

She moved in a way he’d never seen her do before - as if she was floating on waves, her body flowing from side to side like in a trance. And, knowing her, it occurred to him that she definitely did not want to be seen.

There was something incredibly erotic about the scene.

Somehow, Stone knew that she was imagining him there with her, obediently playing the part she was humming. Like a puppet with its maker. It drove him mad.

His ears burned so harshly it caused him pain. Her voice was as soft as pure silk to his ears. Always breathy and wonderfully deep - truly a contrast to her small figure. And when she sang, it transformed into an irresistible siren call.

For a split second, he was determined to invite himself in and listen from up close. Let her sing him to sleep, fade away into blissful oblivion while resting his head in her warm lap. Feel her fingers running through his hair.

Maybe even let her place a head-spinning kiss on his lips. Just this once. Why not - it was just a dream, after all.

But then, just as the wooden stairs faintly creaked under Stone’s feet, she abruptly stopped with a frustrated headshake.

She was always like this. Forever dissatisfied with her musical abilities. Come to think of it, generally anything that had to do with her skills.

She put her battered guitar away, rubbing her eyes. She stretched. Her baggy t-shirt was cut off just short enough to lift above her ribcage and -

Stone shook his head with an annoyed huff, now seriously pissed at himself.

She’s fucking with your head. It’s her fault.

He wasn’t used to being this careless. This project was incredibly important to him and Regan was one of the best friends he’s ever had. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not like this. And the blame was on him.

It’s her fault.

Keeva angered him. The whole concept of her pissed him off. A tiny flickering will-o’-the-wisp floating around his safe space. She always just appeared wherever he happened to look.

That’s how often she occupied his brain - sometimes it felt like she could be in two places at once.

Stomping around in fuzzy socks. Faded pink curls that bounced when she hopped up on the kitchen counter. All the needless jabs and how she had an answer for everything.

Her tired eyes were bordered with dark purple circles, always twinkling with tears and slightly out of focus. Brown irises speckled with blue that seemed to glow from within while scanning the indecent thoughts in his head like an X-ray.

As if she realized the effect she had on him and smugly rubbed it in his face with that stupid little smirk.

Whenever she forgot to act like she hated his joke and broke into joyful laughter, little dimples appeared on her blushing cheeks - her canines were protruding and sharp, like they would draw blood if she kissed his neck. Worst of all - he’d risk that, given the chance.

Stone had vowed to never feel like this again. But somehow, Keeva managed to drag it out of him and make it more excruciating than it had ever been.

Bullshit. It wouldn’t hurt like this. The ‘in love’ thing, surely it wouldn’t. Fuck. I don’t even remember.

No, definitely not.

You’re just a horny asshole.

He’d hoped that if he stomped through the snowy mud hard enough, he might let some of the steam out. To no avail, as he just got the rims of his jeans even more wet and annoyed himself further.

Keeva was caustic, cynical and bitter.

I am her.

It’s her fault.

When Stone arrived home, she wasn’t there. After the argument they had while locking up the rehearsal space, it wasn’t too surprising to him. They were supposed to see Soundgarden play The OK Hotel, but it was still early for that.

He was pretty sure that she was either at Andy and Chris’s place or roaming around Discovery Park to calm down like she always did.

“I can’t believe you forgot to tell him. Stoney, it’s okay to divide the responsibilities a bit, you don’t have to do everything alone. You insisted even when I offered to do it, but -”

“As far as I know, I didn’t ask for your help.”

“Oh. And where did that get us, exactly?”

“He’ll live, Baby, don’t worry.”

“What the - did you see the look on his face? He was devastated.”

”Might be a surprise to you, but I am, in fact, not blind. I’ll call him as soon as I get home.”

“Is that tone of yours really necessary?”

“I don’t know, is it?”

“You’re fucking insufferable.”

“Good thing you live with me, then. Birds of a feather or something.”

“Watch your fucking mouth, Stone.”

“Or what, you’ll bite my ankle?”

“Go fuck yourself.”

Stone’s throat tightened as he rummaged through his clothes drawer. He didn’t even know what he was looking for, it just felt good to mess up all the folded laundry.

After a few minutes of mindless ransacking, he decided that his nerves needed a hot shower before calling Regan with the apologetic news.

What if she doesn’t come back?

He banged his head against the bathroom tiles in an attempt to shut down the childish thought and turned the faucet on.

Idiot, of course she’ll come back. She lives here.

You brought this upon her. She’s stuck with you.

It’s your fault.

Boiling water harshly splashed against Stone’s naked skin, leaving angry red marks on his back.

And as a thick mist spread through the tiny room, he didn’t even try to battle the image of Keeva’s stretching body that crept back to the very front of his consciousness.

It spilt into every corner of his brain and pulsed through his veins like a fever - until the only things he could see, feel or touch were her nude pale breasts, illuminated by the dim glow of her lamp.

● ● ● ● ● ●

The phone beeped while Stone impatiently waited for his friends to pick up at the other side. He was supposed to leave in a few minutes and she still hadn’t come home.

“Hello?” a female voice answered the phone, making Stone jump out of his dissociation. It wasn’t Keeva, though.

“Heeey, it’s Xana, right? Stone here.”

“Hi, Stone!��� Xana, Andy’s new girlfriend, called back. She was really nice, although slightly overwhelming - sometimes a bit too opinionated for Stone’s taste. He, too, was opinionated.

In fact, they had different opinions on a lot of things, something he faced every time she hung out with them for the past month. Andy seemed to be on cloud nine, though, so who was he to judge?

She took care of his friend and that was what mattered.

“Hey, uh, any chance Keeks is around? We’re supposed to be at The OK in, like, fifteen minutes. Could you put her on the phone for a second?”

“Oh, Kiki isn’t here. Chris already left for a soundcheck about two hours ago and Andy is staying in tonight,” she said. In his head, he scoffed.

Does Andy know that he’s staying in tonight?

“You mean she wasn’t over at all?”

“Nope, not that I know of. She’s your girlfriend, shouldn’t you know where she is?” she teased.

Stone rolled his eyes.

When Andy and the others joked about the two of them, it was still annoying, but he was used to it by now.

With Xana, he had a nagging feeling that she hadn’t earned the right to do it yet - she just parroted it after Andy, who was allowed to poke fun only because he had to put up with their antics.

“Very witty,” he snapped and then took a deep breath to calm down. “Ugh, okay, thanks. She’s probably already there.”

“I’m sure Kiki’s fine, she’s a big girl,” Xana giggled and Stone couldn’t wait to put the phone down.

“Only about five foot one. Anyway, say hi to Andy. See ya,” he said and waited for her to stop giggling.

“Sure, he says hi right back. Bye, Stoney!” Xana replied when she stopped laughing and ended the call.

He loudly sighed.

God dammit.

Fine. She’s a grown woman, she can do as she pleases. If she wants to play divorce, I’ll play divorce.

What the fuck do I care.

Stone ran his hand through his matted mop of hair. By now, it had washed out to pinky orange and the brown roots were growing more extensive every day.

He grunted in frustration as he stomped through the room - when he walked past the wooden stairs, he gave the bottom step a thorough, childish kick.

After checking his watch for the final time, he grabbed his keys and denim jacket and stormed out of the door.

I don’t care.

● ● ● ● ● ●

The set was electric, as always. Stone decided to stay in the pit this time, instead of looming behind the speakers at the side of the stage. He had to get it out of his system, fast. Whatever it was.

He tried not to wonder if Keeva was around as he screamed incoherent lyrics back at Chris.

Because she wasn’t around when he came in. She still wasn’t around when he searched for her during the third song and by the eighth song, he gave up and decided to focus solely on the feeling of sweat beads running down his temples.

It was so uncomfortably hot in there.

The OK always had a problem with the heating system, but this time it didn’t bother Stone. Even though he felt like he was going to faint by the end of the encore, it did not bother him.

He was certain that if he kept himself feeling as uncomfortable as possible for long enough, it would truly not bother him.

He happily kicked back a tequila shot that Chris bought him.

“You looked like you needed it. Where’s my little greenie? I know she doesn’t like the pit but I haven’t seen her at all.”

“Probably at the playground playing hide and seek with the other children or something.”

It was nearly midnight and she still hadn’t shown up.

“Yeah, so I had a lot to handle there, but you know, survival of the fittest!”

A girl around their age stopped by him. Stone had seen her around before, a tall brunette who was a part of Mel’s friend group. They were at almost every show he’d attended and he was pretty good at remembering…let’s say faces. This one was Betty, a psychology major at U-Dub.

“Yeah. I didn’t even get through the first exams, so there’s a scoop for ya,” he replied, not sure how to keep the conversation going.

I dropped out. That’s it. Can we move on?

“Oh, what a shame. They say smart is the new sexy,” Betty shrugged with a sultry smile while re-applying her lipstick.

“Do they?” he asked and let himself break into a condescending grin. She seemed to like that.

There we go. See, Baby would tell you to get fucked, Gossard.

“You don’t agree?” Betty pouted and leaned against the wall. Stone followed her movement like a shadow, resting his palm next to her head.

“I think sexy is what it’s always been,” he said, slowly took her beer bottle from her hands and wrapped his lips around it, brashly taking a drink. Betty nodded, humming.

“Hm. Enlighten me.”

Stone nonchalantly reached out and brushed a stray strand of her silky brown hair out of her eyes, gently tucking it behind her ear.

“You’re smart, aren’t you?” he mumbled, letting Betty lean closer to him. Her eyes fluttered closed and she sheepishly nodded. He was so close he spoke against the skin of her neck.

“You can figure it out on your own, then. You’re a big girl, no need for me to hold your hand through it.”

When he pressed a fleeting kiss under her ear, she let out a tiny gasp.

“I need to go powder my nose,” he said when he pushed himself away from the wall, smirking. Betty knew what to do when he turned his back on her and disappeared into the crowd, somewhere in the direction of the restrooms.

“You gonna take me back to your place?” she softly sighed when he dragged her into one of the stalls and locked it behind them.

“Can’t,” Stone muttered, secretly plotting. He’d hoped it would put her off sooner or later. “Uh, my roommate’s home.”

Rejection, that’s what you need, Gossard. Uncomfortable. Keep yourself uncomfortable and it will be fine.

“Oh, Miss Bitchy Mary Poppins? The little one?” Betty raised her eyebrows, clearly aware of their ‘hip-attached’ reputation.

“There’s more than one kind? Good grief,” he huffed and firmly grabbed her waist. He brushed away her hair and briskly started kissing her neck, leaving wet red spots behind as he moved along.

Through soft gasps, she giggled without realizing that it wasn’t a jab at his friend, but a real sentiment.

“She’s a bit stuck-up, isn’t she?” Betty chirped and shivered under Stone’s hands when he accidentally bit down.

“Fuck, sorry.”

“No, no, do it again,” she shook her head and pulled him closer, but he was very focused on keeping himself in line. “I’ll be much more fun than her, I promise.”

Stone smirked, satisfied with his plan.

That’s it. Stay uncomfortable.

“I wouldn’t know.”

“No way you didn’t sleep with her,” Betty chortled again and pulled on his hair when he unbuttoned the top of her blouse.

Okay, that’s a bit too uncomfortable.

“Can we change the subject, please?” he mumbled as he snaked his clammy hand under her lace bra.

She hummed and returned the favour by reaching under his t-shirt. She ran her finger down his abdomen.

“I mean - oh - I know she’s not the sweetest and that her eyes are a bit too far apart -”

Fuck. Why am I not enjoying this?

“Still the same subject, Betty.”

“- and her front teeth are pretty big and her nose is a bit flat at the top -”

Why am I not having fun? This was a shitty plan.

“Betty,” he said a bit more sternly.

“- fuck - and she kinda looks like she’s never had a good night’s sleep in her life -”

“Betty.”

“- and if you see her from afar, she kinda looks like a funny little gnome - oh, Stoney - but if you squint really hard, she’s kinda cute, I gu-”

Betty gasped when Stone suddenly dropped his hands and stepped away from her with an annoyed frown.

“Do you want me to fuck you or not?”

Short awkward silence filled the stall as she stared at him, a bit startled at his tone.

Yeah, this isn’t working. Good riddance, asshole.

“Uh, yes. Yessir,” Betty nodded - which was not the answer he wanted to hear - and a wild blush filled her tanned cheeks.

Stone tried to force a smile, but it must’ve come out quite insincere. Because it was.

“Good. Then let me, please. Sorry. Thank you,” he muttered and inched closer to her again, but she took a tiny step back, the blush burning even brighter.

“Wh- you wanna do it r-right here?” her voice cracked a few octaves higher. Stone had to bite his lip to contain the joyous smirk.

Eureka! Here we go!

“Something wrong with that?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, but his cocky attitude withered as soon as Betty shook her head with a loud giggle and took his face in her palms.

“Oh my god. The girls told me you were a good time,” she breathed out and tried to go in for a kiss.

“Charming,” Stone deadpanned and - thanks to years of training - swiftly dodged her and played it off as bending down to kiss her nipple.

A vignette of Keeva’s room from the night before flashed in front of his eyes. The way she swayed side to side, perky breasts moving against the fabric of her baggy cut-off pyjamas.

Isn’t this what you wanted, dumbass? Is this uncomfortable enough for you?

He frantically searched his pockets - all empty - and suddenly thought of a way out.

Sorry, Betty, you’re a nice gal. But this is my Golden Ticket.

“Shit. I forgot a wrapper,” Stone slapped his forehead and rose up, trying to sound bothered. Betty just took his shoulders and tried to push him down again.

“I don’t care,” was her breathy answer. Stone’s eyes popped open and suddenly, his resolution to stay uncomfortable flew out of the window.

“Oh, okay then. Skirt up,” he stepped back and folded his arms, motioning her to lift her flowery dress. Betty eagerly did so right away, making him sigh as he hurried to put her hands back down along with the skirt.

Baby would’ve told you to go fuck yourself, Gossard.

“That was a joke, Betty. I don’t do it raw,” he said matter-of-factly and stepped away again.

“But I’m on the pill,” Betty said, nearly moaning.

“I don’t care,” Stone mimicked her cool girl attitude from earlier. By now, his tone was bordering on rude, but she apparently didn’t mind and had a clear goal for tonight.

“Well, there’s a CVS down the street. I can go get some, what do you think?”

“No, it’s -” he started, but then he realized something.

If I go now, I can act like they were out of stock and tada!

You wanted uncomfortable, now you can drown in it, dumbass.

“Fine. You stay here, it’s cold outside. Go have a drink or something, I’ll be back in fifteen.”

“So Stoney Gossard is not only a good time - he’s gentleman, too? That is not something you hear every day,” she giggled, twirling her finger around a strand of Stone’s hair as he put his jacket back on.

“Some say I’m generous as well,” he said bluntly and wrapped the scarf around his neck. Betty’s excited giggle pinched his ears.

“Do they?”

“No. See ya.”

● ● ● ● ● ●

Stone was walking down the street as slowly as he could, kicking rubble out of his way with way too much strength.

He was slightly shivering, one gloved hand buried deep in his pockets and the other one squeezing a half-smoked cigarette.

Christ, the jacket wasn’t the brightest idea.

If Baby was there, she would’ve told you to wear something warmer, Gossard.

He cursed under his foggy breath, staring at the three packs of condoms tucked inside the pocket on his chest. He was planning to hide them somewhere before coming back.

At least they were on sale.

Passing a record store, Stone had to walk back and double-check the window. He caught a flash of his woollen beanie in one of the listening booths.

No way.

When he glued his face to the glass, he let out a relieved sigh. His eyes didn’t fool him.

You little shithead.

It was Keeva, sitting on a small stool and nodding her head along to whatever was playing in her headphones. He couldn’t tell what was spinning on the record table in front of her, but he didn’t really care.

Oh, you’re getting it.

The bell hanging above the door shrilled as Stone walked into the empty store.

“‘Sup, Mick,” he called on the way past the disinterested teenager that sat behind the counter, reading a comic book.

“Hey, Stoney.”

Stone had no patience for small talk, though, so he beelined straight to the two improvised listening booths. Only one was occupied, and the listener didn’t notice right away that he stepped in front of her, arms crossed.

I’ll carry you out in my teeth, lady.

Keeva’s eyes were closed and she was softly wiggling to the rhythm. The curls that stuck out of the beanie obscured her eyes. Stone had to knock on the chipboard table to get her attention.

As soon as she looked up, all his hopes of being stern and upset faded.

Her eyes were a bit red, like she’d just recently stopped crying. Her freckled cheeks were still flushed from the cool breeze outside, so she must’ve arrived not too long ago. In a split second, she recognized him. There seemed to be a little light that switched behind her irises.

He was - once again - powerless.

“Oh. Hey,” she said as she took off the headphones, her voice slightly raspy.

She must’ve been in the cold for some time.

Stone had to restrain himself really hard so he wouldn’t jump over the table and give her a bone-crushing hug.

“Whatcha spinning?” was all that came out of him, arms still stubbornly crossed at his chest. It was like Keeva knew that he wanted to say something else, so she smirked before putting on a nonchalant expression.

She always knows.

“Just some local band I rummaged out of the gutter,” she lifted the album sleeve that was lying on the floor. She showed it to him with a sarcastic smile. “They’re fucking wank.”

It was Green River’s first EP.

Stone couldn’t help but snort.

“Heard the guitar player was a hack,” he said, basking in the feeling that always came to him when the two of them got into bickering.

“Big time. The riffs are so sloppy I feel violated,” Keeva said and theatrically shivered. “Filthy.”

Stone took a moment to think about his next words.

I can’t just say sorry. I’m not sorry. I’m not. Why should I be? I didn’t do anything.

“Funny thing, he called me up earlier and asked when you were coming home. Said he was worried or something. So I thought I would help out and go looking.”

Keeva nodded, biting her bottom lip to stop herself from smiling.

“What a Good Samaritan without any ulterior motives,” she said and scratched her forehead. “I planned to roam the downtown and drown my sorrows in cheap alcohol - but now I’m tempted to come with you, not gonna lie.”

Silence.

“Kim was asking about you.”

Stone just couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t help but feel a twisted sense of justice when her face dropped, red with embarrassment.

“Oh. Oh, shit. The gig,” she whispered and dragged the rim of his stolen beanie over her eyes.

“Yup,” he added. The good feeling didn’t last long, though. When Keeva lifted the blue wool again, she looked crushed.

“Fucking hell. I promised him, too. He got some new humbuckers and wanted to show me,” she whined.

Okay, I’m done grilling.

“I think they’re all hanging around, we’ll still catch them if we hurry,” he said and looked at his watch.

What Stone hadn’t realized was that the chest pocket of his denim jacket wasn’t sown in mind with three boxes of Trojans stuffed inside. One of the boxes peeked out just where the logo was.

Keeva darted between it and his face and slowly broke into a smirk. It took him a few moments to realize what was going on.

“Hm. Bet we will,” she hummed and let him simmer in the moment before pointing at his pocket. “Saw the two plus one ad on the way. Good deal.”

Now it was his turn to look at her as if she dropped boiling water on the top of his head.

“What’s that face for, pretty boy?” she mused as she got up from the stool and started packing up the record. “I’m glad you’re responsible, Stoney. The world has way too many fathers.”

Then, she patted his chest and snaked around him to get to the counter. She handed the album to the teen, along with a few cents for the listening booth.

“Ta, Mickey. Have a good one,” she mumbled and looked back at Stone, waving at him to come with her. He had to take a deep breath before following her outside.

Do you feel uncomfortable enough, you idiot?

When they stepped out, Keeva hooked her arm in his and huddled closer to Stone before setting off.

The silence was overwhelming for him.

“You hungry? I’ll make pancakes when we get home,” he chimed in. If his tone came out awkward, Keeva knew better than to comment on it. She just gasped.

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, no?” he repeated with a chuckle.

“That will erase any progress you’ve made in charming me so far,” she explained, shaking her head. Stone gasped as well.

“Oh, no.”

“They tasted like a trampled chunk of a tyre last time,” she muttered and scrunched her nose.

“They might be delicious today, you’ll never know unless you try ‘em,” he giggled. Keeva poked his side.

“You think your skills have evolved?”

“Only one way to find out,” he shrugged.

“Alright. I will trust you but only because you have that fancy first-aid course certificate on the shelf,” she said with a barely straight face before breaking into a cackle. “Christ, you’re such a nerd.”

Stone huffed.

“At least I don’t have a replica of that stone from Dark Crystal next to my bed. You know, like someone,” he softly pushed her and she staggered.

“It’s a crystal, not a stone. Not everything is about you, stoner.”

Keeva didn’t plan to cause another wave of silence. He shrugged.

Yeah. It’s not.

“You slept well?” she said after a few minutes of walking, carefully tugging at his arm. “I heard you tossing and turning all night.”

Stone shuddered and closed his eyes for a second, hoping that she wouldn’t notice.

Fuck, how do you even word that?

‘Yep, had a nightmare where all my friends were dead junkies. Your playing woke me up so I climbed up to stare at you through the gap in your curtains like a creep. Yeah, and I saw your nipples. Cranked off to it later, too. Oh, and the song was beautiful, by the way.’

“Yeah. I guess I had a bad dream or something,” he replied, content that he managed to keep his voice from shaking.

Keeva nudged him again and her eyebrows knitted into a worried frown.

“Hey, stranger,” she said sweetly. “You know that you can tell me anything, right?”

Stone couldn’t help but scoff.

I can’t even tell that shit to myself.

“Okay, tone the therapist act way down, sweetheart,” he nudged her back. He immediately felt bad for being crass, because Keeva just shook her head and mumbled a barely audible apology.

“Thanks,” he added into the deafening silence. “I’m fine. Really, I’m fine. Fine.”

“One more time and I’ll believe you,” she squinted at him. Stone snorted.

“I’m fine.”

“Sounds like you’re fine,” she shrugged and squeezed his arm. He sharply exhaled.

Do it, coward. Stay uncomfortable.

“I heard you play last night, it was really pretty.”

She hiccuped and he could see her cheeks flooded with red again, even in the dim night.

“Oh shit, did I wake you up? Stoney, I’m so sorry. Fuck, I’m such an idiot -” she rambled, but he interrupted her.

“No, no. I woke up on my own.”

Bullshitting your way through life - revolutionary.

“I’ll try to be more quiet next time, sorry,” she lamented.

“No, it’s okay, Baby. I barely heard you. In fact, you better turn that shit up or I’ll have to crawl up there,” he raised his index finger and poked her cheek.

Keeva’s embarrassment was quickly put on hold as she spotted a moment to take a jab at him.

“What, to peep at me through the keyhole, you perv?” she snickered.

Shit.

“You don’t have a keyhole,” Stone deadpanned.

“Irrelevant. Any hole of mine is a pay-per-view affair, pal.”

He tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry.

“You can put a little piggy bank on the stairs. I’ll make sure to throw in a few coins before I come up next time.”

Oh, fuck. Oh, no. Oh fuck, oh no.

Keeva looked at him with a triumphant grin.

“I knew it.”

No the fuck you didn’t.

“I knew you were an A-grade freak under that careless punky coat of yours,” she added, tugging at his denim jacket. Stone couldn’t hold back a shaky exhale.

Oof.

When they walked a couple of feet without a word, she cleared her throat.

“This is usually the point where you’re expected to laugh at the punchline.”

“Have you ever considered that you just might not be funny enough?” Stone shot back, rubbing his nose.

Nailed it.

“Not funny enough to you? No,” Keeva shrugged and leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Ugh, I can’t believe I forgot,” she grunted after a while. “Looks like you’re not the only one with a sieve for a brain, so that’s a good thing for you.”

“You really never fail to be a ray of sunshine,” he scoffed, jumping when she let out a loud gasp and squeezed him even closer.

“Oh! Hot and annoying?”

“Exactly,” he said with a wide smile and enjoyed the view as she closed her mouth and started blushing again.

“He was really good about it. Regan, you know,” Stone said as another few moments passed. “Understanding. He wished us luck and said that he hopes we’ll still get to play together sometime. He wanted to let you know that he’s alright so you wouldn’t worry, but you weren’t home.”

Keeva nodded. Her shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, but he knew that she wouldn’t let it go until she talked to Regan face to face.

Stone hesitated to continue. His throat burned as he tried to push down the tequila shots he’d had. This day was making him sick.

Leave it to Stone. Perfect.

“And, uh, he asked if he can stop by tomorrow night, wanted to talk about Andy. Something’s up with him again.”

“Oh.”

The cold facade that suddenly hardened her features was somewhat familiar to him.

Oh, don’t you learn this from me. Don’t learn anything from me, actually.

“I’m sure it’s just something silly. Might be about that new girl of his, don’t worry,” he tried to save the situation, but she just scoffed.

“Yeah - girl problems or smack problems? Pick your poison.”

Keeva’s frigid tone sent chills down Stone’s spine as he opened the door of The OK Hotel for her. Before he could say anything to soothe her, she put on a brave face and gave him an unassuming smirk.

He hadn’t noticed that a few feet behind him, Betty was waiting at the bar, having a beer.

She wildly waved at them.

“Well, lookit here,” Keeva mused and waved back. “It’s Mel’s friend. The one you didn’t fuck yet, too, how convenient.”

When Stone turned around and didn’t say anything, she knowingly chuckled.

“That’s my cue. Have fun, Stoney. And make it quick, I beg you. I’m not gonna wait in front of the bathrooms for an hour like last time.”

You’re not gonna what?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he questioned with raised eyebrows.

“I needed to wash my hands but you were too busy fucking someone’s brains out in there,” she nonchalantly shrugged as Stone froze.

He recovered pretty quickly, though. At least that’s what he thought.

“They didn’t teach you how to knock?” he shot back, harshly knocking on Keeva’s forehead.

“They did,” she shrugged again and then broke into a sly grin. “You were audibly enjoying yourself, though. What kind of a friend would I be to spoil a good time for you?”

Oh, don’t do this to me.

“Or I could’ve been having a terrible time and you failed to save me,” he tried to wiggle out of it with his best silver-tongued tone, but Keeva didn’t budge.

In fact, she laughed in his face.

“I’m not a stupid child, Stoney. Just a mentally ill virgin,” she said and gave him a moment to laugh. When he didn’t and continued to blankly stare at her, she delivered another blow.

“Plus, it’s encouraging to know you’re not always being a sarcastic prick. Never expected to hear such nice words leave your mouth.”

Stone wanted to speak. He wanted to shoot her down with some stupid acidic remark, give her a disarming smirk and drown in the deliciously victorious feeling of seeing her flustered, but his mind was blank.

Numb.

He just allowed her to pat the condom-stuffed pocket and snicker as she was leaving.

“And I kinda liked all those sighs of yours - you know, from afar. Makes you more human.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

[tryskomys]

Wet Sand

Stone Gossard x OC

Chapter 6 - Maybe

Summary: close. open.

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

notes: next chapter, yay! this has, like, kinda a lot of words. hope you’re okay with that lol

tws: mentions of drugs and awful parenting. loneliness. touch-starved trope if you squint very very hard. weed, but that’s kinda given by now.

songs:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

“Actually, you wouldn’t believe the coincidence,” Stone mumbled after breathing out smoke that mixed with the frigid fog coming out of his mouth. They stood at a balcony, a Christmas Day house party in full swing behind them. “I’m your secret Santa.”

He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket to fish out a scrappy bundle. It nearly looked like an empty crumpled ball of red polka-dot wrapping paper. It was clumsily taped all around, which made Keeva chuckle.

“You’re not supposed to tell me, that’s where the word ‘secret’ comes in,” she raised her eyebrows, reluctantly taking the gift he was offering her.

Stone huffed, awkwardly sticking his hand back into the pockets of his jeans.

“Couldn’t resist,” he shrugged, carefully watching her pick apart the wrapping. She was cherishing every second of opening it, careful not to tear any of the wrapping.

He was growing a bit impatient, taking a puff of his joint.

“Take your time,” he muttered and smirked when Keeva mocked a smile.

“I will, thank you.”

When she finally unwrapped the bundle, Regan’s voice echoed from the inside.

“Stoney, come here! Someone’s looking for you.”

Stone seemed to be a bit too eager to bail out of the situation, not sparing Keeva a single look as he disappeared into the crowd inside.

She frowned, puzzled by his sudden coldness, and finally looked inside the crumple of paper she was holding.

There was a little necklace, thin and short, with a battered heart pendant. The gold colour was scratched and opaque, clearly worn out.

And under it, a folded note written in very neat cursive.

I was discovered in an antique shop behind Mama’s. If you ever need a friend to help out, open me.

— your dearest heart-shaped locket

She pushed the flimsy little button at the side of the heart and when it clicked open, a tiny roll of parchment fell out. She unfolded it and broke into unbelieving giggles when she saw a number written on it, punctuated with two little x’s. It was their phone line.

Keeva peeked inside the house. She met eyes with Stone, who was already observing her reaction from afar.

Mel was standing next to him and waved her hands around, explaining something. He seemed to ease when he saw Keeva’s grin as she tucked the note back inside, closed the locket and hung it on her neck. He wiggled his eyebrows and turned his attention back to Mel, a sly smirk still plastered on his face.

February, 1988

Keeva was fiddling with her necklace, lying with her legs up against the wall. Her faded pink curls were sprawled across the washed-out plaid bedsheets of her creaky bed. She was staring into a copy of Steppenwolf - Stone’s - full of highlighted notes and dog ears. Her concentration wasn’t fully in it, though, no matter how hard she tried.

She threw another frown in the direction of the stairs down from the attic room - the heavy fleece fabric that served as an improvised curtain was open and tucked behind the entrance frame.

The shrilling sound of strings rang from downstairs through an amp that was turned up way too loud for a place this small.

Living with Stone was more symbiotic than she would've imagined three months ago, but man - whoever created him was heavy-handed with annoying mannerisms.

Leaving water on the floor in front of the shower, putting milk back in the fridge even though he just finished the bottle, slurping while drinking tea…

And above all, tuning his guitar as if he was working with the acoustics of Madison Square Garden.

“Again a bit louder?” Keeva called after him, closing her book with a slap. He stopped and hummed, his voice still scratchy from the morning instant coffee.

“Hm? Oh, I didn’t say anything.”

“No, I meant the D string. You’re not tuning loud enough,” she said, waving her arm to mimic strumming even though Stone couldn't see her. “I wanna make sure my grandma hears it. You’re almost there, she’s buried under the ground in a cemetery in east Belfast.”

He laughed and then abruptly stopped to try to pass it off as sarcasm.

“You're so funny I forget to laugh sometimes,” he called back and started strumming again, this time softer after he turned his volume down.

She stifled a giggle. A strange tradition came out of often being each other's only source of humour, especially in bigger companies - both always tried their best not to laugh at the other one's joke to make the silence even more awkward. They both knew it was an act, but it somehow made the jokes funnier.

Keeva put her book away and dragged herself to the stairs. She lied down on the wooden floor and peeked out, her head hanging as she looked at him upside down.

Sitting on his bed and frowning at the fretboard in concentration, Stone was wearing striped boxers and a scruffy Green River t-shirt full of holes.

His bare knees were really bony and scabbed and she had no clue why they, specifically, made a few beads of sweat appear above her eyebrows.

She already saw him in his underwear a few times, he seemed to be pretty comfortable with walking around barely clothed. She was flattered and glad that he felt free to do whatever around her. But it also cemented her opinion - he did, in fact, not view her as anything but his annoying short friend.

People are not this comfortable around someone they wanna court.

Pft. Court.

No wonder he doesn’t wanna court you, you fucking Victorian hermit.

Keeva shook her head to ground herself and silently cleared her throat. When Stone didn’t acknowledge her and kept playing, she got up and carefully hopped down the stairs.

“What's for lunch?” she asked, heading straight to the kitchen corner to crunch on a handful of Rice Krispies straight from the box.

He raised his head, his features still hardened. He looked up at the old cuckoo clock above the door - 11 AM.

“Uh, I don't know. Hunger?” he said, putting his guitar aside. She wasn't even sure if he’d properly heard her question.

Stone always got lost in his head when he was playing - and he made sure they were playing together for at least a few hours every single day. Even after a full workday. Sometimes it drove her mad, but he was her better half in that sense - always responsible about practising.

“We had hunger yesterday, not interested,” Keeva talked back, a piece of cereal falling out of her mouth. He scrunched his nose in disgust.

“Don't choke, Baby,” he shook his head and got up, picking up a towel from the carpet.

“Don't ever use that line in my proximity again, I beg you,” Keeva said and stepped in front of him.

She opened her mouth to show him the chewed food like a petty child. Stone was clearly pushing back laughter, but he hid it behind a scowl.

He tried to walk past and when she mirrored him like a shadow, he whipped her leg with the towel. Keeva squealed and jumped out of the way, letting him enter the bathroom. Stone stuck his tongue out at her before closing the door.

“I'll shower up and go get some groceries,” he called from the shower as the water turned on.

“What a good housewife you are!” she giggled and sat down on the floor at the tea table they used for eating.

His guitar was still plugged in, so Keeva shuffled to his bed, grabbed it and switched the amp on. Sudden feedback screeched through it, so she quickly turned the volume down and cringed.

“Careful!” Stone shouted, the ropes of water muting his voice. Keeva gave him a silent apology and moved further away from the amp to prevent any more shrills.

She softly traced the neck, studying the scratched frets under the strings he plucked the most.

Christ, this guy couldn't wind his strings right if they put a gun to his head.

He made it look so easy, yet so complicated - he hardly used his middle finger and made the most basic chords seem unplayable just because his hand was positioned all weirdly.

Probably because he was trying not to get twisted in his own alien fingers.

The wood was still warm from Stone’s grip.

She wrapped her hand around it and tried to strum a slow riff he'd played for her the night before, but she got lost in her thoughts and failed to recall it.

It sounded better from you, anyway.

She sighed and dropped her hand from the neck, staring at the burgundy carpet under her feet.

Keeva had never been as comfortable with existence as now - living inside this tiny little piece of wood and bricks - but she wasn’t sure if she’d ever felt lonelier.

She and Stone were spending basically all of their free time together and she loved it, yet she always craved more. He felt so far away, even though he was more affectionate with her than anyone ever was.

Stone was special to her in that way - he clicked with her from the very beginning without judgement. In fact, she felt like he was her first actual friend.

That's what hurt the most, she thought. He was used to this, it was normal for him.

He, on the other hand, had many, many friends. Good friends, bad friends, old friends, annoying friends, shallow friends, loyal friends.

Lady friends, too.

It's not like he brought those home, but she was certain she'd seen him leave a party with a girl at least three separate times, even though he later came back.

Stone knew everyone and she felt awful. Angry.

At herself, that is.

She had no right to be thinking that way and she knew it. No claim to him - no one did and he was pretty adamant about that.

Free bird.

Lost in thought, Keeva hunched and hugged Stone's guitar like a teddy bear, wrapping her arms around the sturdy wooden frame as if it were made of plush.

She always had the fairytale idea that instruments had their own souls. A piece of their owners inside, an extension of them - a guitar might feel just right for one person, but be untamable for someone else.

Pretty concentrated on the specks of dust on the floor, Keeva didn't notice that the shower stopped. A soft cough tore her out of her thoughts and she jumped, raising her head.

Stone was out of the shower, wearing nothing but a towel and an amused grin.

“Am I interrupting something or...” he mused, holding the tucked fabric down to make sure it didn't fall from his bony hips.

Keeva was still holding the Sunburst in her arms, staring at Stone like he just dropped a bucket of hot water down the collar of her pyjamas. She looked him up and down as quickly as her eyes allowed her.

Droplets of water were slowly falling from the tips of Stone’s red hair, dripping down the pale skin of his chest. It was scarcely peppered with hair, along with a happy trail that ran down from his navel and disappeared behind the rim of the towel.

“Are you cuddling my guitar?”

Keeva's eyes snapped back up and she cleared her throat.

“Bleh, do you mind?!” she pointed at Stone and waved up and down, finally letting go of the instrument. He scoffed.

“It's my house too, you know, especially the bottom floor. I can do what I want,” he said and confidently strode from the bathroom door to his clothes drawer.

Stone didn't spare Keeva a single look when she raised her eyebrows as he passed by the tea table. She was still staring at him, now questioning his audacity, but Stone didn't look too bothered. He just took a couple of fresh clothes out and looked over his shoulder.

“Do you mind?” he mocked her insulted expression and pointed at the towel.

Keeva snapped away so sharply she felt her neck cramp. She got up and headed for the kitchen while theatrically shielding her eyes. Stone just chuckled.

Cocky bastard.

“Christ, Stoney, you're fucking shameless,” she shook her head.

“Oh, my sweet patron saint, can you forgive me? Forgot you’ve never seen a bare chest before.”

She shut off Stone’s snarky answer by loudly crunching on cereal.

“The riff sounded really good from the shower, maybe we should add a bit of chorus to it,” Stone added while ruffling his hair with the towel and walked up to Keeva to get some cereal, too. “I’ve seen an old Electro-Harmonix pedal in -”

“The antique shop behind Mama’s. Same.”

He wore another clean Green River t-shirt and striped underwear - he must’ve had a whole pack of identical boxers in that drawer.

Yeah. Sounds fitting.

He smelled nice.

She would never admit to Stone that she’d borrowed his shampoo a few times and tried to fool her brain into thinking he was falling asleep next to her.

“Good point, I’ll check if they still have it tommorow after my shift,” Keeva continued. “You play it better, though. I should've looked at that bloody chart,” she grinned, handing him the carton box.

Stone took a breath to tease her, but the doorbell interrupted him. He jumped a bit and frowned as he made his way to the door. When he opened it, he was greeted by a 'phew' puffing out of Andy's chubby frostbitten cheeks.

“Thank god you're home,” he lamented, unceremoniously pushing past Stone.

“‘Sup - oh yeah, come in I guess...” Stone shook his head and closed the door behind his friend.

“Guys, I need you,” Andy wheezed, clearly out of breath from biking.

“Hello to you too, Andrew,” Keeva raised her eyebrows and hopped up on the tiny counter. “Doing great, thanks for asking.”

“Last night I did a thing,” Andy explained, dropping on the bean bag under the stairs.

Stone straightened his back. His face changed from annoyance to judgement and Keeva could tell the switch in his brain flipped to the setting ‘Drugs’.

“Sounds promising,” he muttered.

“I was out and about and I kinda scored a gig at Tug’s tomorrow?” Andy announced with a guilty expression. Stone visibly relaxed while Keeva looked confused, so she shrugged.

"Tug's?”

“Little downtown gay bar,” Stone explained, folding his arms.

“Oh,” she shrugged again. "Well, good for you?”

“Not good,” Andy rubbed his face, got up and started pacing around the room. “I sorta kinda promised that I’ll be bringing a spectacular new never-seen-before act. And that’s where Tom and Jerry come in.”

Stone and Keeva exchanged a confused look, darting between Andy and each other.

“You two, dummies! Pretty please?” he exclaimed, but his plea was drowned in complaints.

“What?! Just like that? We don't know any -”

“- any songs! No fucking way, buddy. Not happening.”

“I have a twelve-hour shift tomorrow!”

“I'm on kitchen duty at the bakery, my hands will be like soggy sponges!”

“Yeah, it will be rad!” Andy sat down again and crossed his legs. “Come on, I’ll beg if I have to. We’ll raid some closets and do a little acoustic set, I have it all planned out. Look, puppy eyes!”

Keeva frowned.

Yeah, good try. Solid puppy eyes, seen better. Eight out of ten.

“I can’t tomorrow, sorry,” she said matter-of-factly, crossing her arms at her chest. Stone nodded.

“Yeah, me neither.”

“Yeah, right,” Andy squinted at them. “Whatcha got planned, a canasta tournament?”

“Sharp tongue for someone who’s asking us to play an unrehearsed gig a single night ahead,” Keeva hissed at him. Andy raised his hands.

“Sooorry, I just - I’m desperate, okay?”

“So you’re saying that you only come to us when you’re desperate?” Stone challenged, raising his eyebrows when Andy rolled his eyes.

“Jesus Christ, stop grilling me. That synchronized assholery routine you do is annoying, not cute,” he said and put his head in his hands. “God is testing me today, I swear.”

“Chill out, princess, or you’ll get wrinkles. Do a proper sales pitch and we’ll think about it,” Keeva grinned, jumping at the opportunity to hear Andy's undoubtedly crazy story.

“So there’s a chance?!” he excitedly hopped up from the bean bag again. “Okay, so, I was out at Tug’s yesterday and I got into a, uh, conversation with the owner.”

“Right,” Stone squinted at him.

“And he said that he needed an act for Monday night, the band that was supposed to play cancelled because the singer has a bad case of acute urinary infection from -”

“Spare the details, love,” Keeva interrupted, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Yeah, sorry,” he shook his head. “So to speak, I was in a bit of a compromised mental state at that moment, so I proposed that I can jump in with some last-minute freaky shit and that Stoney and the greenie will accompany me. And he was so happy he -”

“I said spare, Andy.”

“Sorry. Well, and that’s it. I figured out a whole act for us!”

“Andy, that’s not -” Stone started, but Andy quickly stopped him.

“We’ll gather all instruments we can get our hands on, borrow a drum machine and come in and have a jukebox shtick, right? People will ask for songs and pay us in drinks and we’ll be a little circus act.”

“Pay us in what?” Keeva choked out and blinked a few times.

“Yeah. You see, Jack said he can give us three to five bucks max,” Andy's face cramped with a tight smile. Keeva choked on her saliva and then turned to Stone, slapping her forehead.

“Why do I have a feeling that was meant as in total?” she loudly whispered and Stone just shook his head.

“Great catch, sibyl.”

“Anyway,” Andy jumped in before they could start bickering. “You only have to think about the music, okay? I’ll get everything else, trumpets, violins…large buckets of glitter.”

“Have you ever even held a violin?” Stone asked, leaning back against Keeva’s legs.

“No. Bet Keeks did, though. Didn't you say you were in the school orchestra, Pooky?” Andy questioned, adjusting the Cowboys cap on his head. She choked again.

“As a guitarist, Andy. Fucking hell, I-”

“Stoney said that you have perfect pitch, that means you can work anything, no?” he stubbornly pushed back, redirecting her attention to Stone - he shrugged when she softly kicked his back.

“Oh my god. First of all, I don’t. Second of all, Stoney doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about and third of all - that’s not how it works! It’s not the fucking Force,” she exclaimed and waved her arms around.

“Chill out, princess, or you’ll get wrinkles,” Stone mused over his shoulder, receiving another knee to the backbone.

“Shut up, beanpole. Don’t tell me you’re thinking about it,” Keeva questioned, surprised when he didn't answer right away.

“Dunno, could be fun,” Stone mumbled when she nudged him again.

“Will be fun,” Andy corrected, clearly hyped that he was swaying Stone to his side. Keeva sighed.

“I don’t know, I just hadn’t played a gig, like, in front of people for...fuck, some time and -”

“You will not be playing, Jerry will!” Andy patted her cheek and set off to the door. She frowned.

“Wh-”

“Your alter ego, baby girl!” he called over his shoulder. She looked at Stone with wide eyes. He just turned around and squeezed her nose.

“That annoying little cartoon mouse, look in the mirror.”

“Did they drop you on the head as a baby or -” Keeva hissed and slapped his hand away while he stifled a laugh.

“Yay!” Andy exclaimed and opened the door.

“Wait, we didn’t say yes!” Keeva said, but he was already out of there.

“You didn’t say no! Love you, eternal thanks! I’ll come tomorrow after work with the good stuff. You take care of makeup beforehand, Pooks. I need the whiskers ready!”

● ● ● ● ● ●

“So I asked him if they dropped him on his head and he just stopped objecting, like in general. I swear he does it on purpose. He just gets off on making me pissed off,” Keeva spat out, angrily wiping a table next to the entrance to the café.

“Knowing him, he probably does,” Jeff chuckled as he arranged a bundle of napkins in a box on the counter. “To be honest, I’m not even sure if I wanna be in a band with him anymore.”

Keeva frowned.

Shit. I wasn’t planning this.

“Jesus, is it that bad?” she calmed down a bit, leaning against the table. She left a handprint on the shiny surface. “Did you have another lovers’ quarrel? He wasn’t worthy of you anyway, babes.”

Jeff grunted, stubbornly forcing the napkins in.

“And he’s not even that hot!” she added, shrugging. When he didn't answer, Keeva cleared her throat and walked up to him with folded arms.

“What’s up?” she asked, softly.

“He’s an asshole,” Jeff shot back way too quickly, as if he was holding it back for a long time.

“I feel like that’s the whole point of his existence, no?” Keeva shrugged again, trying to loosen the mood. He scoffed but still didn't relax.

“Yeah. And my patience has overflown long ago, it’s just not my jam.”

She wasn't sure what to say to soothe him.

Jeff was clearly made of a different material than Stone. He was a very direct, no beating around the bush kind of guy. He seemed to be a headstrong working-class country boy, while Stone was a wealthy city kid filled to the brim with passive-aggression.

She got Stone in a way that he didn't - in some ways Stone’s attitude was very English. Dry and cold to everything that threatened his peace.

But he didn't understand what Jeff was going through, either. Jeff was from a tiny town and had to grow up fast to survive, trying to fight his way out of the gutter and make something of himself. And she knew exactly how that felt.

“I’m just not totally set on doing music at all, let alone with him,” he finally turned to her.

Keeva nodded and watched Jeff tear tiny pieces out of one of the napkins as he tried to formulate his thoughts.

“I don’t know, Keeks. I just feel like this was the thing, you know? Now that River broke up I can’t even decide if I wanna continue. There are just so many good bands, too many. And I just - I don’t know if we’re…I’m not sure if I’m cut out for this. Working my ass off here and desperately trying to make it at the same time,” he shrugged, looking up from the napkin. “I don’t know, maybe - maybe it’s like some stupid sign or something. That I should pack my shit and go back to school…sign up to U-Dub and forget this silly fairytale crap.”

“Hey, don’t wreck your brain over it, ok? No rush, just take it steady and think it through. Nobody’s gonna bite your head off if you decide to quit this freakshow,” Keeva said, rubbing his back. “Whatever you decide to do should feel good to you and no one else. You can always reboot and try it differently, anyway. You got your whole life ahead and only you are in charge of it.”

Jeff softly chuckled, giving her a toothy smile.

“How old are you again?”

“What, do I sound like a grandma?” she giggled. He just smiled even wider.

“Yeah, just like my nana,” he said, hugging Keeva around the shoulders. “I loved my nana.”

"So you'll come and see us tonight?”

"Sure thing, Keeks. I'd never leave my nana hanging like that.”

● ● ● ● ● ●

“Okay, this is all I have,” Keeva said while adding a handful of pots and pencils to Stone’s single black eyeliner that rolled around the carpet. He was sat on the bean bag, cracking his knuckles.

There was one small pot of silver eyeshadow, another black eyeliner and a green one, a half-dried mascara and two lipsticks - one very dark red and one in a brick-like shade.

“Yeah, that will do.”

“Hey, a little more excitement wouldn’t hurt you. That’s my treasured collection, okay? Show some respect, it had survived many gigs over the years,” Keevs said and lightly tugged on his shirt so he’d lean closer. Stone raised his eyebrows.

“Okay, maybe not many. But a good few,” she backed out, making him grin.

“I don’t doubt your expertise, no worries,” Stone shrugged and watched her pick up the eyeshadow.

It was the first time she got that thorough of a close look at him.

Stone’s eyes were almost perfectly round and deep-set, which made his eyelids just right for makeup. He was staring at her, not sure what to do with himself as she hovered above him with the silver pot of colour.

She noticed that he had a small fleck of dark brown right next to his left pupil, which made it look strangely uneven. He also had a few freckles under his bottom eyelashes, that only deepened the subtle dark circles around his eyes. The more she looked into them, the sadder they seemed.

It was overwhelming.

Maybe it was the half-closed eyelids. Or the unusual shade of peridot in the moody lighting of a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. But there was something more - a certain wisdom, unfit for a twenty-one-year-old man.

He’d probably call it bitterness.

“Close,” Keeva said, letting out a relieved sigh when he did so.

She took a bit of the eyeshadow on her index finger and brought it to Stone’s eye. When she touched him, he lightly jumped.

“Don’t move or I’ll poke your pretty peepers out,” Keeva mumbled as she gently smudged the silver powder over Stone’s skin.

She suspected he’d take it as a jab instead of a compliment, so she was a bit surprised when she felt the skin of Stone’s cheeks heat up under her palm. He somehow seemed nervous - picking on his nails.

Stone didn’t respond, just took in a shallow breath.

They sat in tense silence while neither of them realized it.

When Keeva moved on from Stone’s eyes, she softly put her hand on his cheek to hold him in place and lightly patted the remnants of shimmer on his cheekbones as a highlighter. Stone let out a sigh he was seemingly holding in. She’d noticed that he tore a hangnail at the same moment.

Andy’s voice echoed in her mind.

‘Doesn’t like it when girls touch him.’

“You good?” Keeva silently asked, holding her hand in the air. “Did I -”

“N- yeah. I’m fine,” Stone said, maybe a bit too eagerly. She tried to think of some snarky remark to loosen the mood, but her mind was blank.

His cheeks felt like they were burning.

“I just haven’t been touched like that in some time,” he mumbled, barely audible. Keeva was taken aback by the sudden openness.

“You - wh-what did you say about the patron saint earlier? I’m just patting your cheek, Romeo,” she chuckled but immediately regretted it when Stone didn’t reciprocate her amusement.

“Probably the beer talking,” he said and she could swear she felt his cheek cool down in a matter of seconds.

They did raid the fridge and drink everything that was in there, courtesy of stage fright - although neither of them would admit that.

Good job, you snide asshole. No wonder he doesn’t care about walking around you naked.

Keeva attempted to save the situation by softly running her fingertips over Stone’s cheekbone, passing it off as smoothing out the glitter. And it seemed to work as his muscles tensed again.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to be a bitch,” she whispered as if she thought she’d scare him by talking too loud. Stone shrugged.

“Makes you you, doesn’t it?”

Is that supposed to be some backhanded compliment?

“Yeah,” was all Keeva replied, mentally punching herself in the gut. “Open.”

When Stone looked at her again, his stare felt even more scorching than before. He looked unbelievably beautiful - elven. And the eyeshadow was doing something to her - she couldn’t even properly put it to words.

“Looks great,” Keeva nodded as she chewed on her lip before giving him a small smile. Stone, on the other hand, didn’t smile.

He wordlessly got up from the bean bag and walked around her. He carefully wrapped his hands around her waist and slightly lifted her up, turned her around and sat her in his place.

Ignoring her sheepish expression, he took the eyeshadow pot from her and smudged some on his finger.

“Close,” he said and Keeva gladly did.

Stone’s touch was feather-light. Almost like a tickling breeze - just like in her dreams, where she wasn’t even sure if he was corporeal.

Her eyelashes fluttered when he tilted her chin up to see better.

Why does this feel like revenge?

“I used to be quite glammy, you know?” Keeva said, trying to make her voice as steady as possible. She had to break the silence somehow, or she would’ve gone mad.

“What do you mean, used to?” Stone chuckled, picking up the green eyeliner. Keeva huffed.

“You’ll make me blush.”

“You’re already blushing.”

“I was in a wannabe prog rock band in high school,” she said, interrupting his obvious attempt to make her even more flustered. “I wore that shit like warpaint.”

Stone hummed, smoothing out the edges of the liner with his thumb.

“We covered a lot of Genesis and stuff, the early things,” she continued after clearing her throat. “I got kicked out.”

“You got kicked out?” he snickered, tapping her cheek to signal he was done with the eyes. “Why?”

Keeva looked at him and quickly moved her gaze away when Stone reached for the lipstick. He drew a little heart on both of her cheeks before smudging it into a rouge.

“I’m sure they had their reasons. Or not. You know fifteen-year-olds. They supposedly wanted to move in a ‘different direction’,” she said, waving air quotes around. Stone blew a raspberry.

“What, from pencils to crayons?”

“Yeah,” Keeva scoffed. “They wanted to be more punky.”

“You were not punky enough?” he questioned, genuinely surprised. Keeva just shrugged.

“Guess not. Around that time, I resented punk.”

A short silence followed before Stone took her face in his palms and turned her to face him.

“You’re just going to drop that on me out of nowhere?” he raised his eyebrows and shook her head a little, grinning. Keeva nodded.

“Yup.”

“Context, please?” he said as she looked away again with an amused exhale.

“My parents were hardcore teenage punks who definitely should not have spawned a child at that age. Or any age, really,” Keeva explained. “And you know, growing up, it was the mid-seventies and it was the dumps of London - the mecca. It was everywhere I looked, all I heard day and night. I was sick of it. I swear, if any studded leather flashed in my proximity I immediately dry-heaved.”

Stone chuckled, but she could tell he was a bit more rigid than before. Mentions of Keeva’s childhood were clearly added to one of the topics that made the switch flip.

“I thought seventies punk was supposed to be a vehicle of rebellion for the working-class youth,” Stone mumbled, brushing the remnants of lipstick on his thumb against Keeva’s lips.

Her eyes fluttered closed again, but she managed to keep composure.

“Yeah, but what if your parents are the youth actively riding it? How do you rebel against punk?”

Stone pondered for a while and then shrugged.

“Obviously by embodying everything the counterculture hated at that time - you know, long guitar solos, overly complicated arrangements, God forbid theatrics or any kind of concept,” Keeva said and shook her head, clearly frustrated. “It’s all puritanic bullshit, everything’s influenced by everything and it’s infantile to pretend that it’s not.”

“Is that why you use big words like ‘infantile’?” Stone chuckled. “Look at me.”

She did. In what she assumed to be his weird idea of powerplay, Stone nonchalantly licked his thumb to wipe off a smudge of eyeliner under her eye.

Keeva shuddered.

“Not my fault you didn’t pay attention in English class.”

“I never really got around to listening to this kind of music as a kid,” Stone said, casually pointing at her modest collection of about five records. “I don’t know, I think it felt embarrassing. Like I’d be breaking the code or something. I guess that proves your point.”

“You’re open to discover and that’s what matters,” Keeva shrugged. “That’s the real punk ethos - embrace chaos. Meaning listen to any fucking thing you like without remorse.”

“No such thing as guilty pleasures?” he raised his eyebrows as Keeva scoffed.

“Exactly.”

The next few moments were filled with heavy silence as Stone took the dark red lipstick, opened it with a pop and ran it across her lips.

“You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say your parents raised you well,” he said after a while.

“Thank god you do know better,” Keeva mumbled, her lips parted as he smudged the lipstick around. “I was eight when mom offered me coke for the first time.”

Stone stopped for a second, holding in a sigh. He couldn’t comprehend her nonchalance.

“Ran away and slept in the school library. I‘ve read some solid books there over the years, good times. Maybe that’s why I use big words.”

“Sounds like a blast,” Stone bitterly grinned and continued smudging.

“Yeah. Humans have more capability to adapt than you’d think,” she said with a shrug, crossing her arms.

“I never felt like I had to. My parents were always good to me. Sisters, too. Lately, I feel like it might’ve been to a fault.”

Keeva couldn’t help but chuckle uncomfortably at Stone’s sincerity once again, but she - again - regretted it.

“What, you think you’re spoiled?”

“Honestly, yeah,” he simply replied. “I never really had conflicts or obstacles at home so I had to create some for myself, you know. Had to put the hormones to use. Rebelling against the nice quiet life like an idiot.”

“No, no, that’s still a valid reason, Stoney,” Keeva shook her head and gently patted his arm.

A friendly gesture. Just a little friendly gesture so he knows.

“Being able to complain is not something you have to earn. It’s okay to not want that life for yourself,” she added.

“Maybe I want it and I’m just in denial,” Stone sighed. “I don’t know, no idea what the hell I want.”

“Man after my own heart,” she softly shoved his shoulder, finally getting an earnest toothy smile out of him.

Keeva continued with a dreamy sigh.

“I for one reserve the option to have that. What do you guys call it - a white picket fence life? Could be fun. Sitting on the porch, judging the local youth…”

“…crosswords, eating dubious amounts of broiled potatoes…” Stone added with a giggle.

“Exactly.”

The doorbell rang and Andy’s cheerful voice sing-songed from behind the door.

“Guys, I’m here! Regan drove me, come help us!”

Stone still stared at Keeva as if he thought he had to say something before letting them in.

Instead, after a few more knocks, he inched closer to her and placed a hesitant kiss in her hair before setting off to the door without a word.

She couldn’t decide if she was glad or disappointed to be put out of the misery of being under Stone’s fingertips - it was too quick, even if it had been hours.

Stone sat on the floor under the plucked pine in the middle of the room. He searched for his name in the pile of small gifts under it. His heart skipped a beat when he noticed a tiny, neatly wrapped packet with a polka-dot print. He recognized the oblique handwriting.

Stoney xx

Inside was a rolled-up note and, to his confusion, a simple silver ring, all matte and scratched from wear. The note was in the same font as his name.

Found in an antique shop behind Mama’s. To help you lose your slut ways and finally get your very own heart-shaped locket.

— yours truly, Virgin Mary

He looked a bit closer at the ring. When he finally deciphered the fading engraving on the inside, he broke into a wide grin.

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.

He searched for Keeva in the crowd and found her talking to Bruce next to the punch bowl. She did a quick double-take between him and the ring he was just putting on his finger, shrugging when he raised his eyebrows in question.

“Seriously?” Stone mouthed and Keeva simply responded by tapping her heart locket and wiggling her finger at him.

Bruce turned around to see who she was gesturing at and gasped when Stone theatrically put his hand on his heart and collapsed on his back with a muted thud.

No one really noticed as they were preoccupied with digging for their own gifts, but the two of them giggled as Stone lied on the floor with spread arms, taking a drag of his joint.

“What’s that about?”

“Santa got him a purity ring.”

[tryskomys]

Wet Sand

Stone Gossard x OC

Chapter 5 - Pulled Up

Summary: solitude only makes us stronger.

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

notes: took some time, but here’s the next chapter! hope you’ll like all the fluff ♡ maybe we’ll be getting steamy soon, who knows? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

no tws this time (except for drunk behaviour i guess lol). yay!

songs:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

“Tell you what. You and I are gonna get royally fucked up tonight and leave all the sappy stuff to tomorrow, m’kay?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“You hungry?”

“You joking?”

“Alright, we’re gonna get fucked up tonight and stop by Doghouse on the way home. I’ll walk you.”

Morning sunbeams were unusually bright, because Keeva’s head was pounding. As she aimlessly paced around her flat, massaging her temples, she tried to recall the last time she drank as much as yesterday night. If ever.

Stone promised to get fucked up - and that was an understatement. Oh, he knew how to party sorrows away.

“You know, I could’ve been a lawyer or something. Some respectable suit,” Stone slurred, talking through a mouthful of greasy fries. Keeva let out a loud cackle that echoed through the ghost town that was 4 AM Seattle.

“Stoney the lawyer? You’d have a more successful career as a fucking cheese grater,” she mumbled, stumbling on a lone piece of cinderblock just as she dipped her fry in ketchup.

She would’ve fallen if he didn’t catch her, but because he could barely walk straight, he almost trampled her.

They stumbled a couple of steps forward in an awkward embrace, nearly landing on the snowy concrete. When they both caught their balance, they broke into wild giggles.

“Fucking lightweight!”

“I’m not a lightweight, you’re a fucking lightweight!”

“Who the fuck are you calling a lightweight, you fucking lightweight?”

Keeva rummaged through her suitcase looking for spare contact lenses, only to find the package box empty. She cursed under her breath, reaching for the ragged glasses case under the pile of yesterday’s clothes.

“What, you think I couldn’t do a smart-people job?” Stone said, his tongue twisted as he went through the sentence.

“I think you can do better. You’re like…” she passionately started but had to pause to find the right words.

She waved her arms as if it would help her concentrate.

“…like the wind! You wouldn’t last a second in a place where they tell people what to do.”

Stone silently stared at her for a few moments, trying to focus on her face before snorting out a laugh.

“I’m like the wind?” he questioned with a condescending smirk. He suddenly seemed way too sober for her liking.

Keeva panicked, but her intoxicated brain couldn’t stop itself from spewing nonsense.

“Yeah, like a bird. A cocky little sparrow or something. If they put you in a cage, you’d snuff it,” she explained, stuffing some fries into her mouth.

Her cheeks were red and tender the whole morning and the blush just wouldn’t go away, even when she tried to press a cold wet towel on her face.

She couldn’t sleep again, so she had plenty of time to cringe at every vignette from the night that came to her as she sobered up.

“That’s profound of you. You’re like the wind,” he repeated in air quotes, breaking into joyful laughter. Keeva punched his arm with a frown.

“Well, are you not? Mister No-attachment?” she said with her mouth full of potatoes. She was a bit startled when Stone put his arm around her shoulders and leaned closer. He slightly stumbled.

“It feels better when there are no strings involved, trust me,” he loudly whispered into her ear and pressed a quick kiss on her temple.

She could still feel his lips there, burning as she rubbed it with the cold towel. Trying to rub it away.

“Doubt that,” she choked out, trying to pass the shock from his kiss as coughing out a fry.

“Well, you wouldn’t know, would you?” Stone mused and swayed a bit when they turned the corner to her apartment complex.

She didn’t want to look at him, but she could hear the arrogant smile in his voice.

“Down, Casanova, I’d rather eat a rusty nail,” she said, throwing the empty polystyrene box into the trashcan they walked by. “I’m a free bird, too, just in a different way.”

Stone hummed.

“You are, that’s what’s so exciting,” he mumbled into her hair again, this time giving a soft kiss to the shell of her ear.

Keeva still had an hour left, so she dropped on her bed and harshly rubbed her eyes before putting on the round glasses she picked out of the case.

She still had the image of his expression burned behind her eyelids.

His eyes were clearly out of focus, which somehow made them even bigger than usual. The hazy orange shine of the streetlamps made it seem like they were glowing from the inside.

She was gone.

“Seems to me like you’re way too easy to excite.”

“Two free birds always chasing each other around, kinda thrilling, no?” Stone shrugged, still staring at her.

She felt like the eyes dragged her closer to him, like magnets. Or was he moving? Her foggy brain couldn’t tell.

“What happens if you catch me?” she said, lowering her voice so it wouldn’t crack.

Stone gave her another smug smirk and this time undoubtedly leaned in.

“Whatever you ask for,” he whispered and pressed a goodbye kiss on Keeva’s cheek, dangerously close to the corner of her lips. “Pick you up at ten, birdie. And bring the guitar.”

She grabbed her battered shell pink Jaguar with a sigh and knocked on a peeling sticker of a cartoon white kitten right next to the whammy bar.

“You better behave, Marie. Make a good first impression. And don’t choke if he whips out a Gold Top, you look great.”

After putting on her boots and jacket, Keeva neatly stuck her guitar into its case and threw it over her shoulder, grabbed her small amp and wiggled through the door.

When she kicked the main entrance open, Stone was already waiting there, even though it wasn’t ten yet. He didn’t look like the punctual type by a long shot, but he was always right on time.

He was leaning on his car, parked in front of the building. The station wagon probably used to be white, but one couldn’t tell because of all the mud, dirty smears and scratches.

Damn, it is ugly, Andy wasn’t exaggerating.

She grinned when he hopped up, unceremoniously put his cigarette out on the hood and rushed to help with her stuff.

He didn’t even say hi and when he gave her a quick hug and a fleeting kiss on the forehead, all her hopes of forgetting yesterday’s shenanigans evaporated.

Is this going to be a thing now?

“What’s that whole look about?” Stone mused, pointing at her glasses with a wide smile when he shut the loaded trunk.

“No comments, please. I ran out of contact lenses and can’t afford new ones because we drank away all the money last night,” Keeva waved him off. She gave up on trying to hide her blush, the cold breeze was quite pleasant.

Stone raised a finger to shush her and walked around to the front of the car. He stuck his head into the open door, rummaging through the drawer next to the shift lever.

Under a bunch of magazines and empty Coke cans, he found what he was looking for and hooted. After a second, he twirled around, arms spread wide.

He had a pair of run-down glasses on, oblong with a thin tortoiseshell rim that had the colour scratched off at some places. He had a big smile on his face.

“I come in peace, fellow four-eyes,” he said with a chuckle, watching her slowly break into a joyful grin.

His hair looked even more messy than usual, the brown-red-bleach amalgamate was tied in a loose ponytail. Baby hairs and strands were sticking out all over the place, which made him look like a downy duckling with very strange colouring.

It took her a few moments to remember that they were standing in the middle of the street.

When she finally registered his questioning eyebrows, Keeva shook her head in disbelief and spoke before she could stop herself.

“You’re probably the most bizarre type of cute I have ever seen, beanpole,” she blurted out, trying to hide her immediate embarrassment with giggles.

She was suddenly so adamant about looking anywhere but Stone’s face that she missed the patchy blush forming on his cheeks.

He chuckled too and scratched the back of his neck.

“Aren’t you a little sweet talker? Learning fast, I’m proud,” he teased and took her around the shoulders, leading her to the passenger seat. “Try it a little less back-handed next time and you’re in my pants.”

“Well, I won’t learn subtlety from you, that’s for sure. Ta,” she said with a grin when he theatrically opened the door for her with a bow.

The smell of old leather and smoke inside the car was strangely comforting, so she wiggled deeper into the seat and took in the strange sight.

The coating of the seats was peeling at some spots and multiple beaded strings and trinkets hung from the rear-view mirror - most of them were cows for some reason, all different materials and sizes.

What in the crazy ancient wizard hoard is this design choice?

She studied the beaten-up dashboard - it was covered in stickers.

Judas Priest, Dallas Cowboys, RIDE THE FUCKING SIXPACK, Northwest Chess Club, 333…some fresh, some so faded she couldn’t even tell what was on them.

“Sorry, it’s not exactly a Ferrari,” Stone said as he sat down behind the wheel, slotted in the car keys and tried to start the engine. It took him four times before he finally got it going.

Keeva noticed a faint blush when he looked at her and gave her a stressed giggle.

“No, no, it’s beautiful! Really. And your fumbling really enhances the experience,” she said with a smirk and put her seatbelt on.

● ● ● ● ● ●

“You’re a good driver, didn’t expect that,” she pointed out after a few blocks, breaking the slightly awkward silence.

She could sense the tension, Stone clearly didn’t have a blackout last night either. He adjusted his glasses and loudly cleared his throat, raising his eyebrows.

“First of all, pardon? Second of all, remember to say that to Mark once you two meet. He was always bitching about not being able to sleep when we were on the road,” he scoffed and shook his head. “Said I was driving through holes on purpose.”

“I’d be honoured to stand up for you. I barely wanna throw up and that’s saying something,” Keeva said with a chuckle. He pouted.

“Baby gets car sick?”

“The back of the car, the front of the car, van, bus, streetcars, train, the Tube, plane, ferry -” she counted on her fingers.

“Well, uh -”

“- boat, rowboat, wheelbarrow and walking through a narrow or crowded street. Oh, and headbanging too hard.”

“Have you tried a carriage?” he asked with a thoughtful frown. She blew a raspberry at him.

“Not yet, but I’ll pass, thanks. I think the universe is trying to tell me something,” she shrugged, sinking into her seat with a sigh. “Probably to decrease my environmental footprint.”

Stone raised his eyebrows with a laugh.

“Honestly, the question should’ve been what don’t you get sick in,” he added.

“On the bike. I love my bike. It’s healthy for me and the planet,” Keeva said, a bit taken aback when his expression suddenly turned serious as he nodded.

There’s the switch.

“Fucking A. We have a great cycling infrastructure around Seattle and it’s been improving, which is bizarre considering Reganism is doing everything in its power to fuck the whole country in the ass,” he raised a middle finger and fiercely stabbed the air before continuing.

“Planting more trees, too, more parks. Like Volunteer, they’re always working on big dahlia gardens once the mountain’s out. New hiking trails, even the old ones are beautifully maintained. Oh, wait ‘til you see my hideout spot at Mount Si!” he excitedly turned to her with a childlike smile.

Keeva couldn’t help but reciprocate.

Talk dirty to me, tree hugger.

“I feel like we’re on the right path to reconstruct the system into a more ecologically conscious one, but it’s hard work when, like I said, you’re getting fucked in the ass by the government,” Stone rambled on after a moment of silence and his face turned cold again.

Christ. Who are you and what have you done to the stoned reckless beanpole?

“But, uh, someone has to start, right? And this city might feel like a rainy shithole at the edge of the world sometimes, but I generally think that solitude only makes us stronger. ‘Cause then we still have enough freedom left to be the contrarians.”

That solitude only makes us stronger.

“Wholeheartedly agree,” she fiercely nodded.

“I know,” he popped in with a soft smile before letting her continue.

“You’re right, this place has something I can’t really put my finger on. A personality, like a revolt. I mean, I’ve only been in America for a short time so I can’t really complain yet, but you know,” Keeva waved her hand and he nodded. “Been living as a partially homeless East Ender under ol’ Maggie Thatcher for nineteen years. And that hag just. Won’t. Go. Away.”

“Yeah, that’s not too different, complain all you want. This place is a dump,” Stone muttered with a bitter chuckle.

“I must sound like a fucking hypocrite when I’m saying all that Greenpeace crap while driving this rusty piece of shit,” he said, slapping the steering wheel. “But we’ve been using it to move equipment and when we were on tour, you can hardly do that on a bike.”

“That would be metal as hell, though,” Keeva gasped, making him giggle.

“True. We can try it sometime.”

“Phew, we haven’t even played together yet and you already have a tour in mind? Talk about a careerist…” she grinned and poked his side. He shrugged.

“Let’s just say that I have a feeling.”

Keeva shook her head with a giggle, curiously looking out of the window when they pulled into Stone’s neighbourhood.

It was very pretty, a lot cleaner than whatever she was used to. He parked the car with a screech in front of a really nice house with a big porch and a large rose bush next to the postbox.

It looked like a proper American postcard.

Oh god, parent meeting. At least take me out to dinner first, loverboy.

Stone must’ve registered her shaky sigh when they got out of the car.

“Chill out. Old folks and sisters are gone for the holidays, no worries,” he said and snickered when Keeva gave him a death glare.

“Could’ve told me sooner, I was practising a posh accent in my head the whole time,” she said, grabbing her guitar case when he opened the trunk. He chuckled.

“Aw, sweet. You could whip it out for me. I can’t understand you half of the time, either.”

After taking a kick in the shin, Stone took her battered Orange amp out, locked the car and led the way behind the fence.

The house was big and clearly very well taken care of, but the garden was what caught her attention - huge and beautiful under all the snow.

“Am I in a Dickins novel or what?” Keeva whistled, choking a bit when she laid her eyes on what was behind the pretty house.

A shed - brick shed, painted dark red all over along with the door. It even had its own postbox with ‘S. Gossard’ written on it in surprisingly nice handwriting.

“Jesus, that’s a big fuck shed,” she blurted out. Stone laughed.

“Didn’t know Christmas Carol had fuck sheds in it, must’ve skipped that Lit 201 class.”

When he slotted the keys in and opened the door, she really fell off the Winter Wonderland vibe.

It turned into an Alice in Wonderland thing.

“Yeah, uh…welcome to my fuck shed,” he said with a dramatic bow, thankful that she was too preoccupied to notice his nervous tone.

It was tiny, made of one room that had a small kitchen counter in one corner, the door to the bathroom in the other and in the furthest corner what seemed like a smaller room in a room.

A bed with messy pink sheets and a bedside table, a half-opened clothes drawer with a small record player on top and a big tower of vinyls stacked next to it. Numerous posters were plastered all over the dark red wallpaper.

Along with the burgundy carpet, it made the place seem even smaller.

Keeva had never felt so comfortable in what was definitely a claustrophobic’s nightmare.

There were a bunch of messy shelves all along the walls, full of Polaroids, books, plants, even a few trophies - first place in the Northwest Chess Club tournament, ‘78 Kick the Can Champion, Capitol Hill’s Annual Spelling Bee 1980: third place…

And cows. A lot of cows. Countless plushies, clay charms, plastic dolls, even a crochet one that looked like it was crudely handmade.

In the middle of the room, under the sturdy wooden ladder to the attic, was a large beanbag with a few papers and pens scattered around.

Next to it stood a majestic Marshall stack and propped up against the wall - two shiny Les Pauls.

“Now, this is a fuck shed,” Keeva stuttered out while looking at the wooden ceiling, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

The whole place was so him she felt like she was in Stone’s head.

It had such a distinct scent, too. The uncanny strawberry shampoo that followed him around was everywhere, along with his powdery cologne. Some fresh weed, old wood and coffee.

Not exactly quality coffee at that…

“Christ, you weren’t kidding,” she scowled when she noticed the shabby mug on Stone’s bedside table, squinting at the settled coffee debris inside.

Eerie, how similar it was to her dream. The whole scene, along with that exact pocket weed pipe.

Keeva snorted when she noticed an empty condom wrap peeking out from under the bed. She picked it up and looked at him with a questioning eyebrow.

Stone lunged forward with wide eyes and snatched both the mug and the wrap from her hands, hurrying to the kitchen corner.

“Fuck, I didn’t - sorry, I should’ve cleaned up a bit before taking you here,” he fumbled around as he poured water into the mug and clumsily dropped it into the sink.

“I was so wasted last night that I went straight to bed and then I almost slept in, so I sprinted out of here so I wouldn’t be late and I’m always rushing and I’m so fucking hungover right now and I’m really sorry that I dragged you to this hovel and - I just broke my favourite mug.”

Stone was just as irresistibly charming when he was embarrassed as when he was being a smartass.

She hadn’t seen him this jittery yet. She couldn’t help but giggle when he turned around and gave her a heart-melting grin, wiping his wet hands on his jeans.

“It’s okay, you just wanna sell it to me as fast as you can because you wanna spend Christmas Eve with me so bad. I get it,” Keeva pouted, glad that he eased a bit when he saw her enamoured smile.

Then her attention turned to the guitars.

“Holy shit. That’s gorgeous,” she breathed out, crouching in front of the Sunburst one. “What year is it?”

Stone scratched the back of his neck, a bit startled by her excitement for specifics.

“Uh, ‘59 I think.”

Her eyes popped open.

“‘59?! Christ almighty, what a beauty,” she whispered, carefully running her fingers along the fretboard. “Oh, and of course, the elusive 3 sticker. That thing haunts my dreams, I swear.”

“Yep,” he snickered. “Regan has a huge roll of them lying around, I’m sure he’ll gladly give you some.”

“Noted, gotta jump on the bandwagon. Woah, and a Gold Top?” she gasped again, secretly proud that she had his gear figured out the whole time. “They’re in such good shape, do you wax them?”

Stone hesitated with the answer. He wasn’t really used to talking instrument care with people.

Keeva had mentioned that she worked in a music store as her main job back in London, so her line of questioning made sense.

But he always felt a bit embarrassed about paying so much attention to his gear - it undermined his punk cred. Seeing the stars in Keeva’s eyes, though, he gave in.

“Uh, yeah…every week.”

“Phew, not just a pretty face. Responsible, too,” she grinned at him and got up.

It seemed to her that mock flirting worked with Stone, because he finally eased with a smirk.

“I mean, there’s plenty more where that came from, Baby,” he shot back, making her blush in return. “For example - let’s check out that loft.”

He led her up the ladder to the surprisingly spacey attic. It only had a few dusty boxes in the corner, otherwise it was empty.

“I think we could put a bed right here,” Stone pointed at the wall opposing the staircase. He had to slightly hunch to fit his head under the ceiling. “Hang a heavy curtain in the entrance for some privacy.”

It was so cosy, with dark wooden floorboards and the same dark wallpaper as downstairs all around, even on the ceiling.

“Yeah! A little clothes drawer right there. Shit, I think it could even fit a small bookshelf,” Keeva excitedly nodded and walked into the room with ease.

Unlike Stone, she had plenty of space - it fit her perfectly, both literally and figuratively.

“Put my amp here so I don’t have to get up from bed to play, perfect. Maybe a little fluffy rug on the floor to isolate it a bit. Oi, even a bit of sun!” she giggled and pointed at the tiny skylight above her.

“You wouldn’t get much of that here even if you stepped out on the porch,” Stone grinned and stood next to her, folding his arms. She didn’t really notice the nervousness in his voice as he chewed his lips. “So, what do you think?”

“Love it! This is exactly like this little alcove under the roof of the school I used to go to. I’d always climb up there and hide so the janitor wouldn’t throw me out after the building closed.”

Stone raised his eyebrows and bit down even harder. He didn’t really take that as a positive review.

This time Keeva noticed, so she squeezed his arm with a smile.

“It’s amazing. This whole place is just…it’s just…”

“A shack?”

“A hideout,” she interrupted and found the courage to lean on him. “You know, like a little treehouse you run to when you wanna get away from the world.”

“I mean, that sounds great when you’re a kid,” Stone shrugged. “But you’d hardly wanna live in a treehouse in your twenties.”

“I wouldn’t know. I never had a treehouse like that so I can’t tell,” Keeva said and couldn’t help but blush once again when he looked down at her with a grin, darting across her face.

“There’s plenty of space in mine if you wanna share,” he said.

“I’d love to,” she assured him and his smile grew even wider as he let out a relieved sigh. “Just keep those condoms far away from me, used or not.”

Stone shook his head and flicked her nose.

“Aye aye, Mary,” he scoffed. “Well, we got plenty of time, so we can get moving and go back for your stuff, how about that?”

“W-what?” Keeva coughed out. “I didn’t - like, right now?!”

“Yeah! Why not?” he shrugged, completely unbothered. “Is there some trouble with your flat or -“

“No, I just didn’t realize you’d wanna do it so soon,” she said and he shrugged.

“Why wouldn’t I? As you said, I wanna spend Christmas with you real bad. So let’s get this shit on the road and reward ourselves with a little jam afterwards,” he rambled as he skipped down the steps. Keeva chuckled in disbelief.

“Wait! What about your parents? Shouldn’t you phone them first or something?” she called after him. Stone’s answer was brisk.

“Already did.”

● ● ● ● ● ●

“Oof! I should really work on upper body strength,” Keeva wheezed when they finally dragged a mattress up the stairs.

They found his sister’s old bed in the garage, along with a small shabby clothes drawer.

“Ask Jeff, he’s the resident jock here,” Stone coughed out and dropped the mattress on the metal construction, wiping his sweaty forehead.

They managed to pack all her belongings in his car in one go.

He felt terrible when she admitted that she was going to get kicked out of her apartment at the end of December.

“Apparently, a nineteen-year-old immigrant is not a reliable source of income for them. And a musician on top of that, I mean, fair.”

Sometimes he forgot how luxurious it was to have a home - and a loving family like his. He would’ve done without her as a reality check, though.

“Any beer in the freezer? I’ll do a Bud if I have to,” she folded her arms and followed him out of the room. Stone laughed.

“It’s the cheapest one, what can I do.”

He threw her a cold can that he took out of the freezer and cracked one open for himself.

“Well…chin-chin, beanpole,” Keeva raised her can in a toast. He grinned and mirrored her action.

“To sharing a cage?”

She hid her embarrassment with a chuckle.

Okay, so no blackout.

“To sharing a cage.”

“You know what?” Stone booped her pointy nose with the dewy can. “Show me that guitar of yours.”

She nodded and sat down on the carpet next to the beanbag.

“It’s my most prized possession, so watch your tongue,” she reluctantly took her guitar out of the case.

Her throat was getting dry when she realized that she would have to play in front of him.

Stop it. You’ve played with people before. What’s that saying? Just imagine him naked?

Fuck. Bad decision.

“Aristocats?” Stone tore her out of her thoughts, grinning widely while he studied the kitten sticker up close. Keeva rolled her eyes and giggled.

“Yes! I was twelve, come on.”

“Love it,” he laughed. He was clearly hyped. “Can I…”

“Sure!” she nodded and handed him the instrument. He strummed a few chords, letting out an excited squeal.

His fingers could hardly fit into one fret, though.

“Never played a Jag before! Tiny,” he mused.

When he had to go over a G-chord multiple times, he cursed under his breath before he properly positioned the tips of his fingers and stopped muting the free strings.

“Yeah, that’s the best thing about it,” she shrugged with a grin. Stone groaned in frustration and handed it back.

“I can’t play this,” he waved his hand and grabbed his guitar. Once he did, he triumphantly strummed the same chord on the first try and hummed.

“Of course you can’t, spider fingers,” Keeva chuckled, red in the face when he stared at her with a cocky smirk for a few moments and then wiggled his fingers right in front of her face.

She slapped his hands away as he giggled.

“I worked on a little chart last night, so we can go through that,” Stone said after calming down and rummaged through the papers on the floor.

He picked up a big paper and unfolded it to reveal a bunch of scribbles, numbers and random words, arrows and coloured graphs.

Strangely enough, the handwriting was very elegant and neat, but incomprehensible nonetheless.

“You worked on a what now?” Keeva choked on her beer, raising her eyebrows as far as they could go. Stone threw her a scolding stare.

“I just organize my thoughts better when I write it down, don’t be an ass.”

She raised her arms in defence.

There’s the switch again. Yeah, add songwriting to the list.

“Can I check it out?” she asked with an unassuming smile.

“Sure,” he said and nodded, handing her the chart.

Keeva’s eyes darted across the paper, skimming through the supposed timeline of the song.

It was kind of like sheet music but stripped down to the crudest details. It had all the information she needed, though.

“Looks beautiful,” she sighed and gave him an excited nod. Stone scoffed.

“You haven’t heard it yet.”

“Don’t have to,” she theatrically flicked her curls and puffed her chest out.

“Uh-oh, we got a perfect pitch, ladies and gentlemen,” he laughed and awarded her with sarcastic applause. Keeva bowed.

“Yeah, right,” she huffed and shook her head. “Just far too many years spent reading sheets and winding strings. Natural talent is for losers.”

“I mean, it’s not like I would know. Can barely tell a C from an F,” Stone chuckled and took a sip of his beer.

Keeva squinted and waved him off.

“Fine, fine, Stoney. You win The Modesty Olympics,” she giggled. “Start and I’ll figure out when to join in, yeah?”

“Sure, be my guest,” he smiled and sharply exhaled before turning his volume up.

As soon as Stone touched the strings, she was mesmerised. The melody felt like a tide, rising and calming down again under his baton.

He was right, she could definitely not hear that from the chart.

He pursed his lips as he plugged the strings, softly playing the riff over and over again with calm precision.

Keeva let him go over it a few times and then meekly joined in, filling the gaps with small bits and pieces.

When Stone looked up from his fretboard, he gave her the sweetest smile she’d ever seen. His eyes sparkled like two peridot gems and that gave her a boost of confidence, so she turned her volume up a bit.

She always went in the opposite direction than him without even thinking about it - he slid down the frets, she went up. Their beats were opposing, fitting into each other like puzzle pieces to create a whole picture.

As they moved on to the louder chorus with a single nod, he mouthed along the sounds, just like she’d imagined.

And for the first time in her life, everything felt right.

[tryskomys]

Wet Sand

Stone Gossard x OC

Chapter 4 - Watermelon In Easter Hay

Summary: you get me. that’s why.

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

notes: chapter foooour! disclaimer: this one is quite tough, so be careful about the tw’s and look out for each other, guys <3 tough times always end and we come out the other way stronger than ever before.

tw: a lot of hurt. mentions of the thing that rhymes with kegs, brief mentions of drug abuse, addiction, brief hint at s*1c1de, description of panic attacks/trauma dissociation. comfort.

i promise that the next one will be so agressively fluffy you’ll drown in it.

songs:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

Somehow, time suddenly started to pass quicker than usual, especially in the context of prolonged winter nights.

The number of oat milk lattes pressed was slowly rising into the low hundreds over the next three weeks, the lunch feasts weren’t as flashy as the first time - it was more of a lunch snack split between three people.

But Keeva didn’t mind.

I could get used to this.

The mantra played on a loop in her head when she got up each morning, the entire bike ride to the parking lot, the whole walk from there to the café.

She was so excited about getting used to this that despite her crippling insomnia, she began to arrive to work about half an hour before Jeff, who was a self-proclaimed morning bird.

She just couldn’t wait.

To get there and wipe the tables. To scribble the dailies on the menu blackboard. To hear Jeff’s adorable righteous fury when he started yapping about yesterday’s ball game - in fact, she was looking forward to learning all the details.

Most of all, though, to catch a flash of wild ruddy hair through the window and hear a knock on the door. See Stone shaking a paper bag in the air with a wide smile as she let him in, receiving a delightfully warm croissant and an even warmer hug.

“That, sir, is illegal. Do the higher-ups know that you’re nicking under their noses every day?”

“You said I’m a punk, I gotta protect my reputation.”

Still, the Christmas holidays couldn’t come fast enough. So, right after her last shift of the year, Keeva beelined to the laundromat to pick up her clothes as quickly as she could.

She stuffed the few pieces she had into her backpack and headed straight home. She was already running late to a meet-up with Stone back at Pioneer Square. It was the day of a long awaited holiday night-out.

When she got back to her apartment, she grinned as she rummaged a t-shirt out of the bag. It had a big Nets logo on the front. Jeff brought it to her yesterday, it still had a pleasant soapy scent.

“Don’t worry, it’s fresh from the laundry basket. It’s a bit big but it’ll do. Now that you’re starting to warm up to it, I have to sway you to the right team.”

“Jesus, Ames, you’re tasteless. Always with the propaganda. Let her form her own opinion.”

“You’re just mad that you didn’t get one.”

Keeva was giddy when she caught herself calling the unlikely duo ‘friends’ in her head.

I could get used to this.

She was whistling an Aerosmith song - another consequence of daily hanging out with Jeff - while she cuffed the baggy sleeves of her newly acquired NBA apparel.

Tightening the shoelaces of her combat boots, she softly cursed when she bent down - she felt a stab in her stomach. No lunch today.

It was the beginning of a holiday break, meaning all money goes to cheap beer and 3 AM Doghouse fries to-go.

And the rent was due.

No, asking him for another help-out isn’t an option. Not again. You won’t die if you only eat once a day for a week.

And besides, she was planning to return everyone’s hospitality by buying at least one round tonight.

The two of them had a rendezvous at the Off Ramp with Chris, Jeff and a couple of guys. A cherub-looking jester called Andy, who occasionally washed the dishes at the café, and Stone and Jeff’s sweet gangly bandmate, Bruce.

One thing she’d learned over her multiple visits to the Off Ramp - it was probably the worst excuse for a bar she’d ever seen.

The upside was that the music was impeccable and the alcohol was ID-free.

That was about it.

First of all, it was Stone’s money laundering headquarters. He lured in unassuming patrons to make bizarre bets with him while knowing the payoff like the back of his hand.

His favourite was guessing how many dead cockroaches there were next to the vodka shelf - it was usually between five and eight.

One of the most successful schemes so far was when he got a group of French girls to each bet a shot that Matt from Soundgarden would break a stick within the first song.

He broke two in the first thirty seconds.

Stone won four shots and Keeva mocked him for missing out on an ‘authentic French kiss’ when he turned his cheek as one of the girls went in for a passionate bonus prize.

Plus, only she knew that he’d sneaked backstage before the show to file a weak spot in four of Matt’s flimsy drumsticks - she was the one guarding the back room so no one would walk in on him.

Jeff, meanwhile, was an angel. Carefully watching everyone’s drinks so they wouldn’t get spiked, something that was sadly a common occurrence in the sweaty dim hell hole. Always ready to light anyone’s stick of choice. Rocking out to every song with identical enthusiasm, even if he’d heard it thirty times over.

But even the most joyous of companies couldn’t deny the fact that a certain degree of thick skin was needed to snake through the narrow corridors.

All the vomit stains and broken bottles on the carpeted floors sometimes called for nearly athletic skills.

There seemed to be a different kind of bodily fluid for every inch of the dancefloor. On top of that, it was all lousily enlightened by a disco ball that was threatening to fall apart at any moment.

If you wandered too close to the supposed kitchen, the stench was so pungent it must’ve caused at least one nosebleed over the years in service.

The women’s restrooms were desolate. There was more piss on the floor than in the actual toilet bowls, powder sprinkles of questionable origin were scattered around the sinks and the mirrors were broken, barely functional and always covered in lipstick stains and sweaty handprints.

And the guys that had - for obvious reasons - visited both, swore that the men’s room was far, far worse.

In other bars around Seattle, it wouldn’t be shocking to accidentally stumble upon some couple enjoying their date in a bathroom stall. Here, it was less common.

You were more likely to bump into them right in front of the restrooms, blocking the way in.

To spend a night out at the Ramp was a truly authentic pagan experience.

I could get used to this.

Keeva opted for leaving her bike at home and took in a deep breath of the frosty air as she strolled through the busy streets of Chinatown.

The sun was long gone and a fog settled over the roads, so she clutched her crochet bag closer and tried to warm up by folding her arms.

Andy, who was fronting another domestic band, had an enchanting voice and Bruce was already a solid third cog in a well-synergized string faction of Green River.

So the five of them were planning to jam as soon as possible.

But something always came up. Christmas was around the corner and everybody took more shifts at work to afford the luxuries of holidays.

That was twice as true for musicians - none of them simply had time to focus on music, hence her lack of session gigs. Her excitement was immeasurable, though.

To play with like-minded people, finally able to express herself however she wanted.

Unable to sustain a minute of peace, though, her brain always came up with pointless arguments.

Can I express myself, though? ‘Myself’ is not nearly good enough to keep up with them.

With him.

I wonder how he feels music. Does he hunch? Bop his head? Jump around or just sway?

Are his eyes closed? He seems like someone who would mouth along with his riffs. Nerd.

Can't really imagine how he touches the strings, though. Maybe he does a lot of slides.

Heavy and slow. Teasing.

That sounds like him.

“Look what the cat dragged in. Baby, do you own a watch? I’ve been waiting here for like fifteen minutes,” Stone muttered through chattering teeth when she finally arrived at their meeting spot, startling her out of her thoughts. “I’m pretty sure this is frozen solid, along with my balls.”

Keeva already recognized the paper bag he was clutching.

Her eyebrows knitted in confusion when he waved his wrist in front of her face to show her the time and then gave her a bone-crushing hug.

“God dammit, I forgot to wind it. Sorry,” she mumbled into his chest, a flaming blush prickling her icy ears.

The scent of fresh pastries and cinnamon still lingered on his sweatshirt.

“What’s the ruckus?” she let him go and immediately checked her watch to twist the little winding wheel.

“Huh? Oh, I was running late in the morning so I couldn’t stop by. I grabbed it on my way home at least, don’t wanna lose my stealing streak,” he shrugged as she took the bag from him and they both set off.

“Ah, you’re a saint, Stoney. I’m so hungry I could eat a fucking horse,” she breathed out puffs of fog.

“Ames and I were wondering where you got lost. Thought you had slipped on ice and fallen into a ditch,” she huffed. She struggled to keep up with his brisk tempo and munch on her cold cinnamon roll at the same time. “I had a cake in mind, you know, to bring to the hospital.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmpf. All pink with big chocolate letters on top,” she mumbled through a mouthful of food, waving her hand in the air to mime handwriting. “'Good riddance.'”

He scoffed, reluctantly chomping down when she offered him a bite.

“Slow down or you’ll choke. I don’t wanna spend the night with my hand down your throat,” he chuckled, slightly concerned by the sheer speed of her eating.

“You said you had a first-aid course, no? Time to put your money where your mouth is,” she muttered again and gulped down the last bite.

The Ramp was packed to the brim, but it wasn’t hard to find the colourful cast of friends, even in the dim orange light.

Chris and Bruce towered over the sea of people like long-haired maypoles, passing a joint to Jeff. He was wearing a bright purple hat with an orange bow - an extravagant wizard. And as they got closer, Andy, who was a lot shorter than the three of them, surprisingly stood out even more. Unmistakable with his furry white coat and bright red lipstick.

Stone, in his kaleidoscope vest, was holding her hand so he wouldn’t lose her in the crowd. Her fingers were still cold as ice, but somehow they warmed him down to the marrow of his bones.

Unbeknownst to her, his mind worked in similar patterns to hers.

I could get used to this.

● ● ● ● ● ●

“…they’ve been away for a month, so, obviously, I was salivating for all the details, shivering like a fucking Chihuahua. And then he just stepped out of his ugly station wagon, stinking like rotten eggs and with a bloody scratch on his cheek, like, this big,” Andy colourfully explained, raised his little finger to illustrate and continued.

“Gave me that fucking blank stare of his and asked me if I knew that Crüe dumped Nikki Sixx in a dumpster last week.”

Keeva rolled her eyes and puffed out a laugh. Somehow, her conversation with Andy derailed to the story of Green River’s disasterous DIY tour.

“Jeez…what a sweet talker,” she scoffed, her grin growing wider when Andy’s baby blue eyes popped open as he vehemently nodded.

“And I was like…no?” he raised his knitted eyebrows and shook his head. “And he shrugged and went: ‘Well, Crüe dumped Nikki Sixx in a dumpster last week.’ And didn’t say a word for the rest of the day.”

“Pfft, he just wanted to be mysterious,” Keeva snorted, taking a swig of her beer.

There seemed to be a pattern, though.

Observing him for the past month, she’d noticed that Stone sometimes switched into a completely different person. Especially when getting into specific topics.

Usually hard drugs, relationships and politics.

The sarcasm suddenly became borderline cruel, not playful. And his cool punky attitude felt stoic and alien.

“Had to question Ames afterwards, because Stoney just. wouldn’t. talk. about it. He just does that sometimes. Nomen est omen, I guess,” Andy chuckled, confirming her suspicion.

“Unresolved childhood trauma, maybe?” she shrugged and took a swig of her beer.

I recognize that one from a mile away.

“Nah, the Gossards are the sweetest sweethearts of all the sweethearts ever,” Andy shook his head. His chubby cheeks were flushed from the shots of tequila Stone had been supplying all night.

A bunch of tourists were in the house, which meant a fruitful playground.

“I think he was just born that way.”

“Heartless?” Keeva scoffed, her smile widening when she caught Stone giving her subtle thumbs up from the bar.

The bartender was already pouring another round. Stone grinned when she returned the gesture and then started wiping off a lipstick stain on his cheek with a slightly disgusted expression. Andy smirked.

“Composed,” he shrugged.

“Weeeell, a little detached.”

“…practical,” he added, biting his cheek to contain laughter. Keeva squinted at him and shook her head.

“Yeah, bullshit. I still smell trauma,” she mumbled, gulping down another sip.

A question was playing around her head for some time. And now seemed to be the perfect moment to ask.

Because if Stone was the resourceful little shit of the group, Andy was the all-knowing chatterbox.

“Did that guy ever manage to keep a girlfriend?”

“Yeah, once,” Andy replied, playing around with the squeezed slice of lime in his empty shot glass.

“There we fucking go! The enigma of Stone Gossard solved! Good job, my dear Watson,” Keeva slapped her thighs, raising her bottle to clink Andy’s empty glass. He giggled like a child. Different people had different reactions to her dry English attitude.

Jeff seemed to have an open mind despite clearly not getting it.

Chris usually gave her disarming smiles, probably taking it for a cute younger-sister quirk.

Stone was…well, Stone about it. Never missing a beat to shoot back at her like he had been deprived of an arguing partner for his whole life.

And Andy always rewarded her with the most angelic giggles she’d ever heard.

“…well? Spill the beans!” Keeva nudged him, leaning a bit closer on the bar table. Andy dismissively waved her off.

“Oh, I don’t like to gossip…” he nonchalantly shook his head.

They stared at each other with wide eyes before bursting into wild cackles, getting a few confused looks from people around them.

When Andy was done with his adorable snorts, he cleared his throat.

“Okay, so, way back in…’84 methinks. Her name was Tara, she was from Utah or Alabama or…whatever, who gives a shit. Anyway, very religious family, Mormons I think, you know how they do it down there,” he theatrically shivered with disgust and continued.

“However. Stoney’s brash mouth could seduce a fucking saint. I’ve heard it rumoured that she screamed for Jesus the first time he -“

“Woah, okay, okay, no, thanks. I get it, please spare me,” she scowled and plugged her ears.

She hoped that Andy wouldn’t notice the raging blush that rapidly filled her entire face, but he was very hard to fool.

“I know you wanna hear all of it -” he smirked, “- but very well. Anyway, he was completely smitten. Treated her so right, didn’t give her any of that shithead attitude.”

That sounds terrifying.

“All of a sudden like a lamb. It was terrifying.”

“Bet,” Keeva snorted and bit into the rim of her bottle to tame the growing smirk on her face. “And how was she?”

“Apparently, not bad,” he mused, giggling again when her eyes widened and she threateningly lunged forward.

“Sorry, sorry,” he raised his arm in defence and took a few seconds to compose himself. “Well, once he helped her out of her redneck shell, she was, uh, how do I put it…”

“A cool girl?” Keeva shrugged and took a swig.

“An insufferable bitch,” he deadpanned and the beer flew out of her nose. He gave her some time to wipe her mouth and continued in a slightly sombre tone.

“She cheated a whole lot, probably wanted to try out as much as she could, now that she’d realized that God can’t make her cum,” he explained, making her snort again.

Fucking hell. This clown. I love him.

The way the story was going, though, her enjoyment slowly faded.

“You know that he’s a tease. And sometimes girls mistake his sarcasm for flirting.”

Yeah, tell me about it.

"So she used to make out with people right in front of him just to make him jealous,” Andy scowled and she mirrored his expression.

“Oof. How long did that go on?” Keeva asked, not even sure if she wanted to hear the rest of the story.

Her gaze trailed off to Stone’s grin as he was handing a shot to Bruce a few feet away from them. Now, there was something behind his smile that she hadn’t noticed before.

“About a year and a half or something, on and off,” Andy’s voice snapped her back to the conversation. “Then she broke up with him and went back home. I bet she married her cousin or something.”

Keeva scoffed and shook her head. She wasn’t sure how to comment on it, so she let Andy finish his story, even though she regretted even asking for it.

“He was devastated after all that, barely talked for weeks. I think he secretly used to be a romantic, but she kinda sobered him up from that whole ‘soulmate’ thing. I don’t think he’s dated anyone else since,” he ended with a shrug, mindlessly biting into the lime he fished out of the shot glass.

It seemed like he was trying to lighten the mood, his face twisting into a scrunched grimace.

“A Greek tragedy, really,” she followed his suit, letting out a bleak chuckle.

Andy waved his hand and swallowed a few times to push the sourness down before continuing in a slightly slurry voice.

“No, seriously. It kinda makes me sad. Actually, I think I haven’t seen him kiss a girl since then, you know?”

And you dare to laugh at me, beanpole?

“Yeah, he flirts and sleeps around, but he never kisses anyone on the lips,” Andy added, shrugging. “Maybe it’s some kind of a self-defence mechanism, I don’t know. I have no idea what’s going on behind that huge forehead of his.”

Oh.

“Like, he enjoys the one-night-stand-thrill or whatever but also doesn’t like it when girls touch him. And I mean touch as in this -” he reached out, patted Keeva’s shoulder and then rubbed her back. “-right?”

…yeah. But…

“Cringes at hugs and stuff, but once he’s enough inches away and certain that they're into it, he doesn’t have a problem with straight up telling them he wants to fuck their brains out,” Andy shook his head. “And somehow, it works. Sometimes I wonder if he’s even from the same planet.”

“I mean, that makes two of us, the hugging thing. But he does it whenever we meet anyway, so there’s a scoop for you,” Keeva tried to sound as careless as possible, kicking back the rest of her beer in one swell swoop.

“It’s different with you, you’re like his little Pooky bear,” Andy smirked, lacing his fingers under his chin. She snorted and raised her eyebrows.

“A what?”

“Pooky. You know Garfield, right? The comics?”

When Keeva shook her head with a curious smile, Andy gasped.

“What?! Sarcastic little shit of a cat who hates everyone but his teddy bear Pooky? And Pooky always pretends that he’s just a toy and then suddenly moves and rearranges stuff just to fuck with Garfield’s head?” he babbled, wildly gesturing.

“That sounds deranged. I love it,” she giggled, still unconvinced about the metaphor.

“Oh man, I grew up on that. I still have a stack of ‘em at home, I’ll borrow you some!” he enthusiastically grabbed her hand. “Then you’ll see why you’re Pooky.”

“I’d love that. And I truly admire that you make everything sound like a compliment,” Keeva grinned.

“It is,” Andy shot back, raising his eyebrows with a smirk. She scoffed.

“Pretty sure that just means he doesn’t view me as a potential fuck.”

He squinted and tipped his head to the side like a puppy.

“Yeeeeah, I wouldn’t exactly say that.”

“Just between us,” she interrupted him, “I’d admit that it hurts my ego, but I’m too vain. Guess I’m not his type.”

“Does he have a type? I haven’t noticed, maybe I’ve been around him for too long,” he chuckled, taking another pointless bite of the lime as if he was trying to suck out the last drops of tequila.

“Well, from what I’ve seen, they’re usually tall, sporty and sweet,” she counted on her fingers and then shrugged. “Then again, who’s type isn’t tall, sporty and sweet?”

Andy's toothy grin widened.

“Seems like your type is lanky, malnourished and sardonic.”

No.

“Yeah, no. I don’t - nope. Let’s cut this conversation before it starts, please,” she wiggled her finger at him, eyebrows knitted. His smile got even brighter.

“Why not, Pooky?” he pressed, grabbing her hand again. “You’re the only person I know who clicked with him without wanting to knock his teeth out first. And he’s into it.”

It sounds so easy when you say it.

“Because I don’t want to. And neither does he. I’m certain that we both like it just the way it is, trust me.”

Shit, he doesn’t trust me.

“You think I don’t know that you’re fucking on the side?” he exclaimed so loud Keeva had to bang her forehead against the bar table to hide her face from the people turning their heads.

“Jesus Christ, Andy! You’re disgusting,” she hissed when looked up, scowling.

His smile was omnipresent, though.

If Stone was the Roman statue, Andy was the Harlequin.

“Well, are you?”

“NO!”

“Not yet, you mean,” he raised his eyebrows, trying to contain another brewing giggle.

“Not yet, not tomorrow, not ever. Okay? I’m done with this topic, you clown, let’s move on,” Keeva reached out and softly pushed him.

Andy didn’t seem too keen on moving on, though, as his shoulders shook with a cackle.

“Have you ever stopped to think why he stares at your lips when you’re babbling? ‘Cause I have, Pooky,” he raised his index finger and tapped on her forehead to make the wrinkles between her eyebrows disappear.

All the other guys were on their way back to them, their laughs nearing Keeva’s ears as Andy whispered with a sly grin.

“It’s because you’re not his type.”

● ● ● ● ● ●

“I think I need a shot of bleach,” Keeva’s raspy voice appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

She left the group to get a beer, but before she could push her way back through the crowd, everyone except Stone had already scattered around the bar again.

He was startled when she walked straight up to him and slammed her forehead against his chest.

Unprovoked touching? This is new. I could get used to this.

“What’s up?” Stone chuckled, hoping that the sound of his heartbeat would get drowned in the loud buzz around them.

Keeva just slammed her head into his ribcage again and took a moment to shiver off some sort of disgust.

She raised her hand without a word and stuck a jumbo shot of vodka in his face. Snickering, he reluctantly took it and she finally looked up.

Her fae-like features were twisted in a comical grimace, mixing both amusement and repulsion.

“I just walked past Mike from Alice. Nailing a chick, that blonde exchange student -“

“Shocking! Your first time seeing a cock?” he interrupted with a brash grin, but his expression froze when she finished her sentence.

“- against the kitchen door.”

“Wh-what?! The kitchen?” he stuttered out, slowly breaking into a scowl identical to hers. Keeva vehemently nodded.

“Fuck. That’s rancid,” Stone choked out and fiercely kicked back the vodka. His nose wrinkled in a signature scrunch.

“I was trying to run past it as fast as I could, but I was so perplexed by them that I stopped by and kinda gave him a -“

She took a step back from Stone and demonstrated her best judgemental glare, raising her eyebrows as far as they could go.

“And I shit you not, he stared me dead in the eye for like ten seconds and then just turned around -” she mimed holding someone’s ass in her arms and spun around, “- and continued like I wasn’t there.”

Stone’s cheeks puffed with a laugh and he nonchalantly shook his head, but his ears started to burn red because of her vivid description. And he couldn’t stop his intoxicated mind from wandering.

Get it together, asshole. Not her. She made that very clear.

“I mean, maybe he wanted to give her a proper Ramp experience...” he shrugged, trying to focus on anything else than the glistening sweat on her flushed cheeks.

Keeva scoffed and took a swig of her beer before folding her arms.

“Yeah, but the kitchen?! I mean, you wouldn’t do that. You’re an A-grade slut, but at least you’re a gentleman, too.”

Just let her have the last word. It’s so easy. For once in your life, just shut the fu-

“Depends on the company. You, I’d even take inside the kitchen if I had to.”

But instead of scolding himself, Stone’s mind filled up with confidence as the vodka spilt through his brain cells and his lips curled into a triumphant smirk.

Stop lying to yourself, Gossard. Don’t act like you don’t get off on this shit.

Keeva raised an eyebrow and seemed to genuinely ponder if he was being serious, but she quickly brushed off her momentary lapse of judgement with a sharp scoff.

“Fine, from now on I officially don’t believe anything that comes out of this filthy cakehole,” she shook her head and reached up to poke his mouth.

Surprised by her own audacity, she tapped her finger on the small dimple in the middle of his bottom lip. “Don’t slip on the cum-stained floor when you go wash it out with soap.”

She held it there, basking in the crackling sensation that pulsed from his soft skin through her calloused fingertip.

When Stone took a tiny step back, darting across her face with an unreadable expression, she froze. Her hand hung in the air as his eyebrows twitched into a minuscule frown.

After a moment far too long for her comfort, she jumped when he lunged forward and bit her finger, cursing under her breath.

He was cackling as he ruffled her hair, Keeva slapped his hand away and rubbed on the bite mark on her knuckle.

Even though Stone’s shoulders were shaking with giggles, there was a clear shift in his demeanour. He firmly folded his arms and took another step back, clearing his throat.

He knew she’d noticed.

Yeah, right, big guy. So much for ‘put my money where my mouth is’. Idiot.

“Fuck, great, now I have rabies,” Keeva muttered, studying her finger in the dim light as she gave him a side-eye, trying to hide a smirk.

Stone chuckled and scratched his forehead.

What the fuck is wrong with you, dude? A girl has touched you before. A lot of them did. She’s just another one. Just a girl. Just…

“What’s wrong? Am I foaming at the mouth already?” Keeva gasped, staring him down with a quizzical brow.

Why does she...strange. So, so strange.

All he managed to do was shake his head and try to put on an unbothered grin.

Snap out of it, you dumb fuck.

“Cat got your tongue?” she quipped, scoffing when he didn’t answer.

“Silent treatment, that’s new. And weird. I already miss your yapping,” Keeva shook her head and watched Stone’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He took a breath to speak, swiftly easing back into his smart-ass mode.

“Woah, woah, okay. Spoke too soon. Tell you what, I’ll go powder my nose and in the meantime, you can try to think of something funny to say,” she handed him her beer and patted his warm cheek. “You can do it, pretty boy, I believe in you.”

And with that, she disappeared, the crowd swallowing her small stature like an ocean wave. Stone luckily found an empty spot in the hoard of people next to the wall.

He leaned on it and banged his head against the uneven bricks.

You’re in deep shit, friend.

● ● ● ● ● ●

Five minutes passed. Then ten. After twenty, Stone’s impatient foot tapping caused a cramp to shoot through his calf, so he cursed and kicked the air a few times to shake it off.

Jesus, did she get flushed down the drain?

He wasn’t paying any attention to the shaggy-haired surfer dude in front of him. Stone somehow found himself in a conversation with him - he just appeared out of nowhere and started yapping on and on about how the bars are worse around Sunset Boulevard.

Ever the businessman, Stone took the opportunity to bet a shot that they would see at least a trio of cockroaches throughout the night.

Of course, he knew that even three was an outstandingly small number.

I’ll go check on her.

He excused himself and assured the guy that he would be back to collect his prize. He snaked through the entire bar, looking for her in every dark corner of the place.

He even tried knocking on the women’s room and calling after her, peeking in when a chirping group of girls allowed him to do so ‘if he really is Stoney’.

But she was nowhere to be found. The last place he didn’t check was a small patio behind the back door, usually a spot one went to when they wanted to fuck a stranger.

Nah, she just needed a breather alone. Or with the discount Steven Tyler that’s been eyeing her from the barstool all night.

Fuck, what do I care?

He liked to think that he had the talent to stomach anything with a straight face, but an unfamiliar burn settled in his lungs as he made his way through a narrow corridor leading to the door.

This is a bad idea. Turn around and leave. Go count cockroaches or something.

He passed a couple that was shamelessly slamming against the wall with dull thuds, but it didn’t phase him at all.

He was too busy fighting his hazy brain, trying to coax his limbs to beeline back inside.

But he couldn’t stop himself as he took the shabby door handle and pushed the metal door open with a loud creak.

Maybe he’d take the scene of her pinned against the dirty bricks by someone else than him over whatever he just walked into.

Keeva was lying on the filthy concrete, curled up in a fetal position and shaking. She was holding a fading cigarette between her cramped fingers, hot ash falling on her red knuckles with every sob she let out.

Stone didn’t think twice about dropping down to his knees and hovering above her, little rocks and rubble stabbed his skin through the holes in his jeans.

“Jesus fucking Christ. What - what’s wrong, Baby?” he stuttered as he pulled to sit her up and shuffle to the wall to rest her back against it. She immediately hugged her knees, avoiding his eyes like a plague.

She was hyperventilating, tears streamed out of her puffy eyes and fell on the snot-stained Nets t-shirt.

He crouched in front of her and tried to take the cigarette away so it wouldn’t burn her. But her hand twitched and the cramp intensified, so he put his hands on her knees instead, cautiously caressing her.

“It’s f-fine, let m-me be. I’ll c-come inside i-in a sec,” she hiccuped, shuffling away when he moved to sit down next to her.

He carefully hugged her around the shoulders and pressed her to his chest. She was still shaking with rapid breaths, but her body slowly collapsed closer to him.

Stone felt his limbs tingle with an alien sensation, almost as if he’d never touched a woman before. Like an eerie fever dream.

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

“No, I’m…I’m okay, t-this h-happens sometimes…s-sorry,” she mumbled again, resting her forehead on her knees. His heart dropped.

“Did someone hurt you?” he questioned, trying to lift her chin to see if her face was in one piece.

“No, no, it’s nothing, I just…just l-leave me here, okay? I’ll be right back,” she choked out and let him take a look. After sparing him a brief glance, Keeva shook his hand off and hid behind her hair.

She didn’t have any bruises, only cracked lips from all the salty tears.

“What happened? Who hurt you? Tell me, please,” he pressed, reaching up to stroke her hair.

“No one, I’m n-not hurt…it’s fine. Just go,” she repeated like a broken record, but he noticed that she began to melt into his arms and finally dropped the cigarette butt on the ground.

“I’m not leaving you.”

That brought a new wave of shivers and he desperately clutched her closer to make her warm.

Neither of them was wearing a jacket or a sweater, so he didn’t have much to work with. It still seemed to help, though, as her breathing slowly calmed down.

“What’s up, Baby?” Stone whispered after a long moment of silence, disturbed only by her fading sobs.

“I-it’s just…it’s me, I’m sorry. I’m just a sissy.”

She took a long pause to breathe in and cleared her hoarse throat.

“I, uh…I just saw some girls shooting up in the bathroom, that’s all. They offered me some, too, just as a cherry on top.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Oh. Did…did you -” he carefully started, still whispering. The implication brought a bit of fuel into her exhausted body, so she immediately cut him off.

“Fuck no. Christ, of course not."

Keeva sounded almost offended, so he quickly regretted even thinking about that option.

“I’m sorry. Sorry, I just…it’s not uncommon here…” Stone muttered with a bitter undertone in his voice. She took a big breath again.

“I know, it’s f-fucking everywhere. I don’t know what I was thinking…as if you could run away from drugs,” she lamented under her breath like she was scolding herself. “I guess I p-probably chose the wrong career. It j-just hit me more than it should’ve. Like I said, sissy.”

He wasn’t sure of what to say, so he just stared at the dirty ground in front of them. He realized there were multiple fresh-looking cigarette butts, she must’ve smoked a lot more before he arrived.

Keeva sniffed and wiped her wet nose with the back of her hand.

“It’s, uh…my dad, he…”

She took a moment to inhale a shaky breath.

“He was a smack addict, OD’d this spring. I didn’t know him that well, but, uh…I’ve seen that shit when he crashed at our place, you know…mom and I had this tiny little flat.”

She suddenly sounded clear and lucid, almost detached.

“I ran off as often as I could, slept at whatever place I worked at or in the school gym…I was probably the only kid that enjoyed going to school, ‘cause it meant I wouldn’t have to be at home. They both had a lot of friends over,” she scoffed. “Well, friends - dodgy old men and strung-out buddies with a pocketful of crack.”

She started picking on her cuticles and tore a hangnail, so Stone mindlessly reached out to stop her and started playing with the battered old ring on her middle finger.

“And mom was…she was ill. Real ill. You know, here,” she tapped her temple. “Got some of it from her, I think. Family heirloom.”

A few moments of tense silence and she continued.

“I guess they did love each other, in some ugly twisted way. In the end, she couldn’t bear to live without him,” Keeva mumbled the last part like she was talking to herself.

“So, uh…I kinda found myself alone in a dirty hole in the middle of East End with about fifty quid to my name…mom left me that,” she scoffed again, this time even sharper. “No note or anything, just that one fucking piece of worthless green paper.”

She sighed and watched his bony fingers slowly wiggle the ring left and right, slightly concerned that he didn’t speak yet.

Or move, for that matter.

“Dad’s cousin, Toby, moved here a long time ago. The only family I knew, so when it all happened, he tracked me down and said he’d take care of me. Got me a one-way plane ticket. A guitar case and these stupid dungarees,” she swabbed her nose again and wiped it on her pants to make a point. “That’s all I had on me.”

“What about him?” Stone suddenly asked, his voice eerily monotone.

“He recently moved to Aberdeen, but he still helps me with rent, even when I don’t ask. I try not to, obviously…I gotta look for something cheaper, ‘cause he’s already done enough, you know?“ Keeva waved her hand to try and loosen her shaking fingers. “Too much.”

She took a deep breath and fiercely shook her head.

“Fuck, sorry. I didn’t mean to just…shit, that was like an infodump from a bad movie,” she added and cleared her throat.

“Take it as a roundabout way of saying ‘run while you still can’,” she chuckled and tried to shuffle away, but Stone squeezed her closer.

A warm tear tickled her pale wrist, but it wasn’t one of her own. His breathing didn’t change, neither did his heartbeat or his stance.

Only the dull sound of teardrops falling on her skin as they dropped from the tip of his nose.

A Roman statue, weeping.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

His voice didn’t indicate any sort of emotion, but it soothed her in a way she’d never felt before. She raised her eyebrows.

“Like, ever?” she huffed, trying to loosen the mood, but he stayed still.

“If that’s what you want,” he said and patiently waited for her reaction. When she didn’t give him one, he cleared his throat and finally moved to rest his head on top of hers.

“Didn’t know you smoked.”

She scoffed.

“Only when I’m really riled up. News flash, it’s a nasty habit with zero benefits. Makes me even more poor, stinky and unhealthy.”

“A woman after my own heart," Stone nudged her shoulder, savouring the sound of her silent chuckle. "Just realized…I never asked you where you live.”

“At the corner of South Main and 17th Ave, next to Chinatown. A hovel, but there’s a bed and a bathroom and only I have the key. So I can’t complain,” she shrugged and continued. There wasn’t a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

“Still costs an arm and a leg, though, so it’s only temporary. Too small to get a roommate. I mean, I prefer solitude anyway, but you can’t always get what you want.”

“You could live with me, you know. I mean, if you want. At my place,” Stone said after a long minute of silence, still fiddling with her ring. "Be alone together."

A breath hitched in Keeva’s throat and she furiously shook her head.

“No. No, no, thanks…thanks so much, Stoney, but no. That’s - that’s too much to ask for,” she began stuttering again.

Stone moved to look at her, but she was firmly fixated on the trashcan on the other side of the patio.

“You didn’t even ask for that,” he shot back, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, but you’re already more hospitable than I deserve,” she replied and shook her head again. “And I doubt your parents would be chuffed about a sudden stray raccoon occupying their house.”

He briskly sat up straight and pushed away from the wall to face her.

"No, I’m serious. There’s a little brick shed behind the house, that’s where I live. I re-made it into a proper living space, isolated the walls and put electricity there. A bathroom with a tiny shower, a kitchen corner and a small electric cooker. Got my own door, my own key, it’s detached from the house,” he spewed out, suddenly more animated than she’d ever seen him.

“I pay my parents some rent, but once we split it, we'll have more money for music. Or you can pay a smaller half and cook dinner from time to time to make up for the rest.”

Stone didn’t even let her take a breath.

“There’s an attic above the room, like a little loft. I already put a permanent ladder there, but it just collects dust ‘cause I don’t have enough stuff to fill it up,” he continued and finally let go of her fingers, waving his hands around as if he were using an invisible broom. “We can clean it up and put up a bed for you, or I can move up there and you can sleep downstairs, whatever you like better.”

Keeva stopped him, more firmly than before.

“Stoney, I can’t accept that.”

“Why not? Like I said, if you want, there’s an unused space and I was looking for someone to take in anyway, to split the rent. It’s a little neighbourhood in Capitol Hill, ten-minute bike ride from Pioneer. Volunteer Park right under your nose,” he continued, like a dedicated salesman.

“I know all the nooks and crannies, there’s tons of cool bars and cheap food spots. When the mountain’s out, you can see the Needle.”

He paused and when she didn’t immediately shoot him down, he started pushing again.

“If you insist on paying rent,” he shrugged and she finally looked up at him, slightly frowning. Red eyes and a patchy blush, smudged eyeliner and parched lips.

And yet, she was the most breathtaking human he’d ever seen.

“…and I wouldn’t dare to try and stop you, we’ll split, fair share. More dough for guitar strings and beer for both.”

“It’s just…I’m not…” she stuttered but Stone didn’t let her finish.

“If you’re concerned about the size, it’s about 175 square feet, I can shrink my stuff as much as you need -“

“No, it’s not that, that’s bigger than my flat. I just…”

“I rarely bring girls there. And if I happened to do that, by any chance, I’d tell you before -"

“You’re too good to me.”

Silence fell between them once again. This time, though, it was different. His strange gaze swallowed Keeva whole as if she was seeing him for the first time again.

Stone darted across her face and stopped at a fresh tear forming in the corner of her eye. He reached up and wiped it away with his thumb, touch as light as a feather.

“It’s about time someone is.”

“Stoney, I want to be alone,” she barely whispered, studying his firm expression.

“So do I.”

She finally ran out of pointless arguments and, after a moment, slowly nodded in agreement. He mirrored her nod, peridot twinkling under the milky moonlit sky.

How could I say no to them?

“I’ll pick you up at your place tomorrow morning, show you around and you can decide if you like the look of it, okay?”

“Why?” she let the all-encompassing question hang in the air.

He sighed and rested his head on top of hers again.

“You get me. That’s why.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫