lulu

a month has gone by since you've moved to pittsburgh. it's nothing like the small town in oregon you grew up in, but you're grateful that robby was kind enough to offer you a room free of charge. he took a whole week off during your first week back so that he could show you around town. even taking you to his place of work so he could introduce you to everyone on his crew.

most of them were shocked to discover that robby had a daughter, all except dana, who already knew of you and your existence. and you had to explain that long story about robby technically being your godfather, but it's easier to just say he's your dad. besides, it wasn't like your actual dad was always the most stable figure in your life.

speaking of him, he calls you one night as you begin plating the table for you and robby. he starts spouting the same bullshit about you being such a terrible daughter for leaving him and oregon behind to pursue a career that'll never take off. you just let him talk, not really caring anymore to defend yourself. already knowing that it'll go nowhere and only escalate the argument. just as you finish setting up is when robby comes home, discarding his shoes and jacket, dropping his backpack beside the front door.

the volume of your dad's voice is so loud over the phone that you have to hold it away from your ear, making robby tilt a brow in confusion. 'your dad?' he mouths, which you nod. "listen, i gotta go and make dinner. goodnight," you say, ignoring the flew of curse words he spills as you hang up.

"what lovely things did he have to say to you tonight?" robby questions, wasting no time to dig into the spaghetti you made. "oh, you know, how much he hates me for leaving. how he thinks my acting career will go nowhere. and how disappointed mom would be in me if she was still here. so the usual," you reply, harshly stabbing at the salad you made as a side. he lets out a soft huff, shaking his head. "that's not true, you know. your mother would be very proud to see the woman you've become," he assures softly. "yeah, i know that. you would think he'd know that."

"how's the job hunting going?" robby questions, changing the topic. "there were a few listings for some roles that seem interesting. but in the meantime i got an interview tomorrow for a local record store down the street."

"that's good, bug. you've been so stuck in the house this past month. i'm glad you're getting out. speaking of getting out, though, one of my friends from work is throwing a fourth of july barbecue this weekend with some of his old army buddies."

"and you're thinking of going?" you ask with a chuckle. "wow, i never thought i'd see the day when michael robinavitch would willingly take a day off."

"haha, very funny," robby replies sarcastically. "with al-hashimi around, i don't feel as conflicted taking days off. but just for that, you're coming along with me."

"are you serious? what am i supposed to do around a bunch of old guys drinking and sharing their war stories?"

robby shrugs. "gets you out of the house. besides, one of them is bound to have a son around your age. maybe you can get yourself a boyfriend."

"i think i'm okay with no boyfriend for a while." he stares at you with a look combined of pity and understanding. he knows why you've come to the decision of steering clear of men. mainly due to the fact that your now ex-boyfriend had been cheating on you with your now ex-best friend for more than half the time you two had been together. so, you know, not the best relationship ever.

"alright, well, just think about coming with me, okay? jack is a good friend of mine. nice, too. i think the two of you would get along."

"i'll think about it," you promise. "that's all i ask, bug. now you go ahead and get ready for bed. i'll clean up." you nod, handing over your empty plate to him. "night, dad."

"night, bug. love you," he says, pulling you into a side hug and kissing the crown of your head. "love you too."

saturday comes by a lot sooner than expected. robby parks the car on the edge of the curb, just near the driveway. he looks over at you before exiting the car. "just try and have a good time, yeah? if it gets too boring, there's a balcony on the second floor that you can hang out on. i'm sure jack won't mind." you give him a small smile. "don't worry me about me, dad. just focus on enjoying your night off. he mirrors your smile, rubbing his palm over the top of your head. you groan, trying to slap his hand away, making him laugh. "c'mon, bug, let's head inside."

jack's house is huge compared to the apartment that robby lives in. it's two floors with a spacious kitchen and dining room. hell, there's even a living room and a tv room. no way he was able to afford all this while having the same pay as robby. "they must be outside," robby infers, guiding you towards the large french doors that lead to the backyard. you didn't expect the outside to be just as huge as the interior, but you were quickly proven wrong.

just like he told you, there's nothing but guys at this party. most are just sitting around and drinking. and a few of them are hanging in the pool. a couple of them greet robby, eyeing you as you walk past them and to the long table near the grill that holds all the food. he drops a couple beers in the cooler while you set down the brownies he requested you to make. one guy comes up to robby, grabbing a beer from him and making friendly conversation.

"hey, man. it's good to see you. we weren't sure if you'd take the day off to come see us," the man says, slapping robby on the back. "yeah, i'm just as surprised as you. but i decided that a day off could be good for me," robby replies.

"tell me about it. work has been kicking my ass recently. obviously nothing compared to yours and jack's, of course." the man's barely glances at you before doing a double take. "who's this?" he asks, a smirk making its way on his face. "don't even try it, adam," robby warns. "this is my daughter, y/n."

"it's nice to meet you," you greet with a tight lipped smile. the man, adam apparently, puts out his hand for you to shake. you don't. not because you're trying to be rude. you just don't do well with physical touch. especially from strangers. "don't sweat it, sweetheart. it's a pleasure to see a pretty face at one of these things instead of a bunch of old guys." his words make you grimace. they also have an affect on robby, who stands a bit taller and shifts his body in front of yours. but before he can say anything, an unknown voice cuts in.

"adam, back off it. don't harass the girl." even though it's masked as a joke, you can hear the underlying warning. it's enough that adam backs off with his hands held in surrender, before walking away to another part of the backyard. robby turns around to the new man. "thanks, brother," robby says, dabbing him up before pulling him into a quick hug. "don't worry about it. adam can be a piece of work at times." you turn around as well, coming face to face with probably the hottest guy you've ever seen.

he stands a couple inches shorter than robby, but he's larger in size. his biceps strain against the black tee that he wears. and the slightly baggy jeans he has on does nothing to hide that his thighs are fucking huge. his hair is gorgeous, the salt and pepper curls sitting perfectly atop his head.

okay. you need to stop staring before you start drooling. get a grip. like seriously.

thankfully, mystery man doesn't notice you ogling him. if he does, he's kind enough not to mention it. "you must be y/n, i'm jack. robby talks highly of you." he doesn't put his hand out for you to shake. he must've noticed that you didn't shake adam's. "uh, you have like, a crazy nice house," you say awkwardly. but it makes him laugh. "i appreciate that. you let me know if there's anything you need, okay?" he's just being a good host, you tell yourself. "yeah, thanks." he nods once at you, a gentle smile on his face, before slapping robby on the back and heading towards the grill. "told you he'd be nice," robby mutters, bumping your shoulder once with his.

the barbecue ends up not being bad as you thought it would be. most of your time is spent sitting beside robby and eating. some of the guys ask you questions, but other than that, you're mainly silent. not like you mind it, though. you hate pointless small talk with others. by now, the sun has set, and people are starting to shoot off some fireworks. the guys have also gotten a little more drunk as the night goes on, making the environment louder than before. so it's no surprise to robby when you politely excuse yourself to a quieter area.

when entering back into the house, you remember what robby had told you earlier about there being a balcony you could escape to. you walk up the stairs and down the hallway. you're cautious when looking for said balcony. the last thing you want is for jack to assume you're some weirdo trying to snoop in his house. as if fate is on your side, there's a bedroom door cracked open at the end of the hall. and when you peek inside, you can see the balcony door open across the room.

there's two chairs placed on the small surface, both of which are facing towards the skyline. minutes go by of silence and the occasional firework. jack's neighborhood is relatively quiet. you take a hit of your vape when you hear a familiar voice. "those things aren't good for you, you know," jack scolds playfully, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. you can't help it when your eyes drop down to forearms. "even on your day off, you're still giving doctor's advice?" you tease. he shrugs, moving to the chair beside you. a soft groan escapes him as he sits down. "what can i say, i'm just a caring individual."

you chuckle softly. "it's just a bad habit i picked up in college. i hope you don't mind me being up here. dad said that it was a good place for me if it got too loud."

"don't worry about it. robby had mentioned that loud and crowded spaces get you nervous at times, so i set up the chairs out here just in case you needed to get away."

jack's words take you by surprise. he did that for you? before tonight, he'd just heard stories about you from robby. yet he's singlehandedly done the most thoughtful act anyone has ever done for you. "that's really nice of you. thank you." you start to feel how warm your cheeks are, so you look away before he notices the soft blush on them. "it's beautiful tonight," you murmur, admiring the night sky. "yeah, it is," he agrees. but you're too focused on the fireworks to notice he's looking at you. "how are you liking pittsburgh so far?"

"slowly but surely i'm getting used to it. it's definitely different than roseburg, but overall, i like it here. it's more lively and has more opportunities."

"robby told me you were a drama major, is that right?"

"i am, yeah. i know it's not the most useful degree, but..." you just shrug, unsure of what to say. "hey, a degree is a degree. from what i've heard, you're pretty talented. you been in anything?"

"nothing major, no. a few local commercials and i was a background character in a horror movie a couple years ago."

"well, i'm sure any agency would be glad to have you." god, could jack be anymore perfect? you've only known him for what, a couple hours? and somehow he's raised the bar for you by miles.

a gust of wind blows by, making you shiver. maybe wearing shorts and a tank top with no jacket wasn't the best idea. "you cold?" jack asks. "a little, but i'm okay. you don't have to-" halfway through your sentence he stands up and goes into the room connected to the balcony. now that you're looking at it, you realize that it's his bedroom. oh my god. he comes back out with a navy blue blanket in hand, draping it over your legs that you pulled up to your chets. "there you go." the blanket itself is soft and warm, like it recently came out of the dryer.

"you know, you don't have to feel inclined to stay. i'm sure being down there is a lot more fun than up here with me," you suggest. "nah, i like it up here. besides, you are a lot more fun than those guys, believe me, sweetheart. a lot less drunk too." you like the way he calls you sweetheart. it feels less icky than when adam called you it. you barely notice how much times passes by.

unlike most people, jack doesn't attempt to fill the silence with forced conversation. the questions he asks are sincere, like he actually wants to know about you. and your responses come out so naturally that it doesn't feel like jack was a complete stranger until tonight. you only know that it's gotten late when robby comes searching for you. "bug? there you are," he says, walking out on the balcony. "hey, brother, what are you doing up here?"

"just getting to know the little movie star. you planning on heading out?" jack asks. "yeah, it's getting late and i promised dana that i would come in tomorrow to make up for missing today. you ready to head out, bug?" you nod, stretching as you stand up. "thanks for the blanket, jack," you say, folding it and setting it down on the chair. "you're welcome. c'mon, let me walk the two you of out."

robby leaves the balcony first, then you, and then jack. as you walk downstairs, you nearly miss the last step. but just before you take a tumble, jack catches you with a hand on the small of your back. "careful there. that step is rickety," he mutters. you can feel how warm his breath is on the back of your neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

once outside, jack pulls robby into a quick hug. "thanks for coming tonight, it was good seeing you outside of work."

"i appreciated the invite. you coming in tomorrow?"

jack shrugs. "we'll see how my leg is feeling. it's been killing me all day." robby claps him on the shoulder, the closest thing to comfort that he'll give. "well, just let me know. i'll see you around, brother."

"see ya, brother." robby waves, before hopping inside the car. "and you," jack points at you, "don't be a stranger, yeah? it's nice having a new and pretty face around."

"you got it..." you're unsure of what to call him. you know that his last name is abbot from the small background robby gave you on the drive here. calling him dr. abbot would be too formal. but would jack be too casual? you just met him, so you don't know. "jack. you can call me jack, sweetheart," he assures.

there it is again. sweetheart. and that smile... god, you're gonna need a cold shower when you get home. "alright, you got it, jack. might have to take you up on the offer and try out that pool of yours," you say jokingly. "it's open to you anytime you want it," he retorts. but he means it. "have a good night."

"you too," you reply, waving goodbye. now in the car, robby looks over at you. "you feeling okay? you're looking a little warm."

"huh? oh, yeah, i'm fine. i must've got heat exhaustion or something." sure, heat exhaustion. it looks like he almost doesn't believe you, but chooses not to argue. "alright, well, drink some water and electrolytes when we get home. and put a cold towel around your neck."

"you got it, dad." robby then pulls off of the curb, making a u-turn and driving away. the whole drive home, your thoughts are stuck on jack. you're not sure what will cure whatever it is that jack is making you feel.

you end up not seeing jack for almost two weeks since that night. in those two weeks, you've done everything in your power to get him off your mind. you ended up getting the job at the record store, taking shifts pretty much whenever possible so you could rake in money for yourself. you did a few auditions here and there, but had no luck in getting callbacks. hell, you've even rearranged your room more times than you could count whenever thoughts of him flooded your mind at night.

by this point, you believed that luck was not on your side. until robby called you on your way home from work. "hey, bug, i hope i'm not bothering you while you're at work, but i'm gonna have to pull a double tonight."

"everything okay?"

"as okay as it can be, i guess. there was a pretty big pileup and the closest hospital is ours so we're gonna need all hands on deck basically," robby explains.

"okay, well, i can bring you dinner if you want."

"you don't have to if you can't, bug."

"dad, really it's fine. besides, i just left work so i don't mind it," you insist.

robby sighs over the phone, knowing how stubborn you are. "alright. you can come in through the ambulance bay, it'll be faster. i'll let ahmad know you're stopping by."

"sounds good. love you."

"love you too, stay safe."

due to the aftermath of the pileup, it takes you longer than expected to pickup the food and get to the hospital. thankfully, though you don't run into any complications when arriving through the ambulance bay. a man in a security uniform waves you in and politely nods. that must be ahmad. you head towards the nurses station, looking for dana. but you instead find an unfamiliar, older woman.

"hello," you greet with a soft smile. "can you please tell me where dr. robby is?" she's not nearly as friendly with you as you were with her. "are you a patient?"

"no, ma'am, i'm not."

"are you the family member of a patient?"

"no-"

"then why are you here? matter of fact, how did you get in here? so leave, before i call security on you."

you're grateful for the familar voice that cuts in. "monica! this is robby's daughter, y/n, that's why she's here. how about you go take a smoke break, huh?" dana suggets. monica eyes you up and down with clear disdain, especially at your outfit. she mumbles something about 'this generation nowadays' before walking outside to the ambulance bay. "sorry about her, honey, monica can be a real piece of work sometimes," dana apologizes once she's gone.

"it's alright, i'm fine," you reply. "can you tell me where dad is?"

"he's in trauma room one right now. why? something wrong?" dana puts on her glasses, ready to examine whatever injury you might have. "no, nothing's wrong. i just brought him some dinner since he's pulling a double. do you think he'll be out anytime soon?"

"i don't think so, hun. the patient he got was in a pretty rough state when they came in." you nod, understanding. "okay, well, can you give it to him when he's done? i know that if anyone else does it he won't listen and actually eat the food." she laughs, tapping you on the arm. "you got it. come back and visit more often, yeah?"

"yes, ma'am, see ya!" she waves goodbye, you do the same. as you walk out, you glance down at your phone for maybe a second, before running into a brick wall. no, it's definitely not a brick wall. because a brick wall doean't smell like sandalwood. also because two large hands grab you by your biceps to steady you. "jack," you breathe out.

"gotta be more careful, sweetheart. i can't always stop you from falling," he teases. "what brings you around here?"

"i brought dad some dinner for tonight."

he hums softly. "it's good to see you again. you doing alright?"

"i am, yeah. how about you?"

"better now that you're here." jesus christ, if you weren't surrounded by ambulances and complete strangers, you probably would've jumped his bones right here and now. "hey, are you free this weekend?" he suddenly asks.

"uh, i should be. why?" please be a date, you think over and over. "i was thinking about inviting you and robby over for dinner. it would be nice to get to know you more," he instead says. hopefully, you mask your disappointment well. "that would be great, yeah. i'll let him know."

"alright, well, i need to give you my number so we can smooth out the details." you put your phone in his outstretched hand, watching as he punches in his number. "well, i should probably head in there soon. but hopefully i'll see you this weekend?"

"yeah, this weekend," you echo.

"cute shirt, by the way," jack says, fingers lightly brushing the thin strap of your flowery top as he passes. it doesn't occur to you until you get home that robby already has jack's number.

jack never needed to give you his.

friday night, you receive a text from jack's contact who saved himself in your phone as 'jack 😎'. the single emoji makes you laugh softly.

the next day, you spend all morning trying to figure out what to wear. you know that it technically isn't a date, but you still want to look nice. but nothing too forward. god, this is hard. you land on something basic, but reason that it'll be good enough. jack offers to pick you up, but you insist that you can drive yourself. so he texts you his address.

jack greets you at the door with a gentle smile. "i'm glad you could make it, sweetheart. dinner's already made. i set it out on the patio if that's okay."

"that's perfect," you assure.

"alright, follow me then."

you're surprised by how all out jack has gone for this dinner. a fresh bouquet of flowers sit in a glass vase right in the middle of the table, with small candles lit around it. "you did all of this?"

"yeah, i did," he responds. like it's no big deal. "why? you don't like it?"

"huh? no, i do. it looks amazing. i just wish i would've known you were going all out. i would've worn something a little more nicer than this," you say, gesturing towards your outfit. he looks at it up and down. "i think you look beautiful the way you're dressed now," he replies without a second thought. "now let's eat before it gets cold." he moves over to the atble, pulling out your chair for you. even pushing you in once you're sitting down.

jack takes his place across from you, plating your food first before his. "i wasn't sure what you liked to eat, but i figured that you can't really go wrong with pasta. and i also assumed that you don't drink alcohol because i didn't see you drink during the party. but i noticed you drinking diet coke. is that fine?" it makes you smile to see how attentive he is. he cares so much to impress you at the moment that you're almost taken aback. "everything is perfect. like, seriously. the food is amazing too," you praise.

jack's shoulders drop just a bit, like the praise you've just given him was exactly what he needed to hear. he hasn't done something like this in years. not since the passing of his wife. so it feels good to hear that he's doing this right. "robby told me you got a new job?"

"yeah, i did. i work at the record store down 5th."

"how are you liking it?"

"it's good so far. it's close to the house, and the owner and all the staff is really nice. but i don't see it as like, a forever career, obviously. i'm mainly just working there so i can save away money to move out of dad's place. i just feel bad for free loading or whatever," you ramble, a little embarrassed when you realize that you added on a lot more details than needed. but jack doesn't seem to care. he doesn't even seem to notice. he's just sitting there and listening. "you know, your dad doesn't see it that way. he loves you a lot," he reassures.

"yeah, i know. but dad has already done so much for me, you know? he's always been there for me since i can remember."

"was he friends with your birth dad?"

you shake your head. "no, he was friends with my mom. they grew up together, actually. same neighborhood, same school. they were really close. apparently, everyone used to say that they wouldn't be surprised if the two of them ended up marrying each other. it obviously never happened because he went away to new orleans to do his residency. when he came back, my mom was already married with a little girl. i remember being so young and telling people i couldn't wait to become a doctor like my uncle robby." you recall the memory with a small laugh. for your seventh birthday, he even bought you one of those play doctor kits.

"why didn't you?" jack asks softly.

"my mom got diagnosed with stage four breast cancer when i was sixteen. it was just really hard, you know? to see her so weak and sick when i so used to seeing her lively. she passed a few months after the diagnosis. after that, i just couldn't see myself being surrounded by sickness and death."

you had never told anyone that before. besides robby, no one knew about your old dreams of being a doctor. you're not sure why you tell jack all of that. but there's just something about him that seems so trustworthy. but you appreciate that he doesn't look at you with pity like everyone else does. instead he almost looks... understanding of you and your pain.

"i, uh, i lost my wife to breast cancer. about ten years ago now," he admits quietly. "it's good to talk about them, the people you've lost. just because they're gone doesn't mean the relationship is done."

"amen to that," you say, tipping your soda towards him. the small gesture makes him laugh. and the previously solemn air feels lighter. like maybe two people have just felt a little less lonely than before.

dinner unsurprisingly continues to go well after that. jack asks you all kinds of questions, and you answer them all with enthusiasm. you notice that he doesn't really talk much himself. not for a lack of trying, though. whenever you would attempt to let him chime in or change the conversation topic, he would turn it back around on you. "i feel bad. i'm doing all the talking," you say. "good thing for you, sweetheart, i like listening," he retorts.

once dinner is over, you try to help him out by washing the dishes. but he comes up from behind, grabbing your hips as he moves to the side. "jack, c'mon, i'm trying to help out," you argue, but he clicks his tongue, shaking his head while rinsing the utensils. "you're my guest, meaning you don't do the cleaning up."

"are you sure? i don't mind helping."

"positive. go ahead and hop in the pool if you want. there's a bathroom down the hall for you to change in."

you nod, knowing that no amount of convincing will change his mind. grabbing your purse off of one of the chairs in the dining room, you head down the hall and towards one of the doors. "uh uh, to your left, sweetheart. there you go," he says, leading you to the correct door. thank god your back is turned so he can't see how warm your face gets. you shouldn't feel so aroused at what he said. they're normal, everyday words! but it's just how he said it... you throw some cold water on your face to snap out of it.

jack is robby's best friend. and whether blood related or not, you still see robby as your dad. it would probably give him a heart attack to see his surrogate daughter all over his best friend. besides, jack doesn't see you that way. he's just being nice. he had mentioned he was born in south carolina. it's just that southern hospitality or whatever. he definitely has southern charm, that's for sure.

quickly, you realize that the bikini you packed is probably not the most appropriate. it's not scandalous, and even if it was who gives a fuck, but it's also not the best to wear around a man that you barely know. not that jack would do anything, at least you hope not. but it was the only one you had unpacked. you peek your head out of the bathroom to look towards the kitchen and see if jack is still there. oddly, he's not. fully stepping out, you realize that he's nowhere to be seen. he's probably outside. but when you go out there, his presence can't be found. must be upstairs, then.

slowly, you sink into the shallow end of the pool. inch by inch since it's so cold, causing goosebumps to rise in your skin. to be honest, pools were never really your thing. being an only child and only having older cousins meant never getting to experience playing mermaids with someone your age. but you enjoy the calming effect that water has on you. so most of the time, you just end up awkwardly floating around until your fingers prune.

the sound of a chair being scraped across the concrete breaks you out of your thoughts.

looking behind you, you see jack sitting down, rubbing at his right knee. "you're not coming in?" you ask and he shakes his head. "can't," he replies. just as you're about to question why, he tugs up his right pant leg, displaying the metal prosethtic. "sometimes the chlorine really messes with it."

"oh, i'm sorry," you apologize, a bit sheepish now after not knowing about his disability. "no need to say sorry, sweetheart. you didn't know," he says, shrugging it off. "people have said and reacted a lot worse when seeing it."

you let a few seconds pass before asking, "does it hurt?"

"sometimes it can, yeah. if i keep the prosthetic on for long periods of time, it'll put pressure and dig into my skin. and once in a while, i'll get phantom pain where my leg once was," he explains. he doesn't allow himself to dwell on it too long before changing the topic. "you liking the pool?"

"it's really nice. wish i had my own on days when it gets unbearably hot."

"then come over whenever you want. not like anyone else is using it," he simply says, pulling out a cigarette and lighter. you smirk softly. "those things aren't good for you, you know," you say, mocking his words from the other night. he mirrors your smirk. "you gonna stop me from smoking it, sweetheart?" jack asks, smoke spilling out the side of his mouth as he talks.

you hold up your hands in fake surrender. "let me have a hit?" and he nods, holding it out to you. "i don't wanna accidentally drop it or something." playfully he rolls his eyes. "forgot how clumsy you are," he teases. "c'mere then." you push yourself up, forearms resting on the edge of the pool. it takes all the restraint in him to not look down at the way your cleavage is pushed up in this position.

jack takes one long drag of the cigarette, holding the smoke in his mouth. he beckons with his pointer and middle finger to come closer, which you do. his nose brushes yours as he leans in to let the smoke travel from his mouth to yours. your lips touch, just barely, but it's enough for him to groan at the feeling. once the smoke is gone, you move away. but only slightly.

jack glances down at your bikini. just this once, he reasons. red, white, and blue. cute. "did you buy it for the fourth?" you shake your head. "not for this one. i bought it a couple years ago for a pool party with my boyfriend."

"you still got one?"

"got what? a boyfriend?"

"yeah, a boyfriend," he confirms. "a pretty girl like you must have one."

"no, i don't. not since i found out that he was cheating on me for three out of the five years we were dating."

jack tsks, flicking some of the ash off the cigarette. "it's his loss then. should've known that he had the best he's ever gonna get." you snort softly. "you're just saying that," you say, but he shakes his head. "no, i mean it. he wouldn't know how to handle you, anyways."

you raise an eyebrow. this is definitely getting interesting now. "oh, really? what, and you do?" you wonder if jack knows what you're doing. which, of course he does. he's not blind. and much to your luck, he taks the bait. "yeah, sweetheart, i do."

seconds, minutes, maybe even hours pass as the two of you just stare. you're not sure who, but someone leans in first, closing the distance between you. the second your lips touch his, jack doesn't hold back. he lets the cigarette fall from between his fingers, stomping it out beneath his shoe. his hands come up to hold the sides of your face, pulling you as close as possible. one of your hands reach out towards the edge of the pool to stabilize yourself.

you tilt your head to the side, deepening the kiss. jack's tongue swipes across your bottom lip, silently requesting access. and you give it to him, obviously. you moan softly, which makes him smirk against your lips. the kiss continues for a few seconds more, with quiet sounds escaping the both of you. he pulls away first. a soft whine slips from your mouth. his thumb bumps your bottom lip, wiping away the single strand of spit connecting your lips to his.

"don't be like that, baby. i'll take care of you. want me to do that?" he asks and you nod, but that's not enough for him. "use your words, c'mon."

"i want you to take care of me, jack. please," you breathe out. ever the gentleman, jack helps you out of the pool, careful not to let you slip. he's now given a better view of you in your bikini. the wet cloth sticks to your skin, water droplets dripping down your smooth thighs. but that's not what intrigues him. well, correction, everything about you intrigues him. but there's a belly button piercing that catches his eye. it has a silver bar and jewel, with the little playboy bunny logo dangling.

"when did you get this?" jack asks, brushing at the piercing. "when i was seventeen. after my mom's passing, i kinda went through this rebellious phase. getting this piercing was one of the first things i did," you explain. "why? you like it?"

he nods. "yeah, i do," he rasps, "let's take this upstairs, okay, baby?" you let out a small 'okay', letting him gently drag you into the house.

you can't believe it. you really can't believe it. no way did you ever think that coming to jack's house tonight was gonna result in you two hooking up. not that you're really complaining, though.

you smile to yourself. he likes my piercing, you think as you walk up the stairs. your ex hated your piercing. always claimed that it was a poor excuse to slut yourself out. yeah, well, he was a fucking dick so who cares now.

once in the room, jack shuts the door behind you two before pulling you into another breath stealing kiss. it's shorter than the first, but not any less passionate. he grabs at your hips, moving you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bedframe and you fall onto the bed. his body cages yours, forearms resting on either side of your head. pulling away from your lips, he begins to trail kisses down your jaw and neck. he bites you on your pulse point before sticking out his tongue to soothe the aching spot. you moan, bucking up your hips to meet his, feeling his growing bulge.

you hope that he leaves a mark. selfishly, jack does too. one of his hands sneaks into your bikini bottoms, swiping at your entrance. a soft groan escapes him when he feels how wet you are. "fuck, baby. all this f'me?" you nod rapidly. "yes, jack, it's all for you. just, please," you beg, pushing up against his hand for anything. any kind of friction to soothe this aching feeling. "please what, huh? use your big girl words again."

you let out a soft huff. it's almost humiliating to admit how needy you are right now. but you know won't get what you want, what you need, if you don't speak up. "i want you to fuck me, jack. please, jackie, please," you admit, breathing heavily.

jack smiles against your neck. licking a long stripe from the base of your neck to behind your ear. he then presses a small kiss there. "that's it, sweetheart. that's what i wanna hear." he pulls away to look at you. "but not yet, okay? i gotta ease you into it." he slides down to the floor in a prayer position, ignoring the way his leg starts aching. instead, grabbing at your thighs to pull you closer. "hand me that pillow beside you," he softly commands, gesturing to the light gray one to your left. you do as he says, tossing it to him so he can place it beneath his prosthetic.

slowly, jack starts to tug down your bikini bottoms, inch by inch, before your hand reaches out to grab his wrist. "what are you doing?" you ask hesitantly. "i told you. let me ease you into it. but if you don't wanna do this, that's okay too, baby," he replies, already moving to stand up, but you pull him back in. "no, i want this, please. i just didn't expect you to, you know, eat me out," you admit. truth be told, your ex never did that. always said it was gross, despite the multiple times he would make you go down on him. his form of 'foreplay' was roughly fingering you for like five seconds before putting it in.

jack is able to pick up on what you don't say. this is your first time getting this kind of treatment. "i'll go slow with you, okay? if it gets too much for you, tap on my shoulder twice."

"okay, i trust you," you whisper, nodding once as a sign for him to continue. jack finishes tugging your bikini bottoms down, letting them fall onto the ground beneath him. he begins to kiss up the insides of your thighs. the light stubble on his jaw rubs against your skin, making you shiver. he starts with short kitten licks on your cunt. the sensation is nothing like you've ever felt before. he goes slow, but in the best way possible. it keeps you right on the edge.

jack keeps his left hand on your thigh, pinning it down to the bed. but his right ends up between your legs. he starts with his pointer, slowly sliding it in. his fingers are longer, thicker. reaching places that you never could when by yourself. a soft moan slips from your lips. "you like that?" he asks, voice muffled.

"yes! yes, jack. more please." and how can he deny you when you ask so nicely? he pumps his finger in and out faster, simultaneously speeding up his tongue. he slips a second finger in. this one hits you just right. another moan from you. this one louder than before. there it is, he thinks to himself. he starts to lick at your clit. the two sensations combined feel like heaven on earth. he keeps the same pace. only slowing down when he feels you getting close. he hopes that you know he's not trying to be mean. he wants this to last for you.

it all feels so good that your legs start to shake. he forces one of your legs open with his free hand. a coil in your belly starts to tighten when he keeps hitting your g-spot over and over and over. "jack, 'm so close. please, right there. just- ugh, fuck, keep going," you whine, fingers digging into his sheets. you're fisting the sheets so tightly that you might rip them. jack lets go of your thigh to grab that hand. he squeezes it once. a silent 'i got you'. he brushes against your g-spot one last time, sucking on your clit, before you come. it rushes out of you so hard that you almost see stars. without meaning to, your thighs clamp around his head as a multitude of moans escape you. not like he minds it, though. he's happy right where he is.

finally, jack pulls away, moving to hover over you again. "you doing okay, sweet girl?" he notices your eyes are shut. when you don't respond, he lightly slaps your thigh. your eyes open. "i'm sorry. it's just... i haven't come like that in a really long time. kinda took me out for a sec," you reply. "do you think you can keep going?" he questions. he's not gonna push you if you don't want to. you nod. "i can. besides, i can't just leave you hanging." your eyes flick down to the bulge straining against his jeans.

fuck, even in his pants he looks huge.

"c'mere," you mutter, pulling him in by his chin to makeout with him. your sudden burst of dominance makes jack groan into your mouth. your hands tug at the hem of his shirt with a soft whimper. a silent plea that you need this stupid fabric off of him. he obliges. breaking away from the kiss for just a second. the sight of him shirtless distracts you. with the farmers tan on his thick arms, the freckles across the expanse of his chest, and his soft belly. "like what you see, sweetheart?" he asks. "fuck, yeah, i do," you reply, before pulling him back in for a kiss.

his large fingers tangle into the wet strands of your hair. you blindly fumble with his belt, unable to get a firm grasp on it. he reaches down with his right hand, though, undoing the button and zipper easily.

pulling down his boxers and jeans in one go, jack's cock springs free, slapping against the ridge of his soft abs. your ex was average, only around five inches. but jack? he's huge, just like you expected. seven, maybe even pushing seven and a half inches. but not only that, he's girthy as shit. now you understand why he couldn't just fuck you right away. you swallow nervously, eyes darting between his face and cock. "will it even fit?" you ask soflty. he presses a quick kiss on your forehead. "i'll be gentle. i won't rush you, promise."

jack leans over to search through his nightstand for a condom. when he doesn't see the familiar gold foil, he mutters a quiet expletive. "shit, baby, i'm sorry. i don't have any condoms-" he begins to say, but you cut him off, blurting, "that's fine! i mean, i'm on the pill," you correct yourself. "so i'm okay with it if you are." he nods once. "only since you're said it's okay, yeah? but if it gets too much, you let me know," he reminds. he grips the base of his cock, lining it up with your entrance. then, slowly, he begins to push himself in.

the initial push takes your breath away. he then adds another inch, then another. by this point, he's barely halfway in and still has you letting out soft mewls. the burn of his thick cock splitting you open is new, but not unpleasant. inch by inch, he enters in you before he's fully nestled inside of you. both of you let out similar moans of pleasure. he doesn't move for a few seconds, allowing you to get used to his size. you feel so full you almost can't breathe. it's like the tip sits right under your sternum, leaving you to feel nothing but him. gradually, he begins to move back and forth, cock dragging against the walls of your cunt.

it doesn't take long for him to find your g-spot once again. you let out a quiet whimper when he does. but this time, he doesn't move fast, like with his fingers. his movements are slow and calculated. right now isn't about him. it's about you and giving you the pleasure that you deserve. he won't allow himself to come until you do. he hits that gummy spot over and over.

you drag your nails down his back, before digging them into the skin between his shoulder blades. a quiet groan escapes him when you do. he likes it, you realize. as his cock pulses inside you. "you feel that, huh? got me all hard and pent up. that's what you've done to me. haven't been able to get you out of my mind since we first met. you and those little shorts. you're just so gorgeous, baby," he praises, which makes you moan and clench around him.

"fuck, jackie, 'm close. please, let me come, please," you beg.

"yeah? you wanna come, baby?" jack teases and you nod rapidly. "i bet your ex never fucked you like this, huh?" you shake your head. he lightly slaps you on your cheek, just enough to make you look at him. "come on, sweetheart, words. i bet your ex never fucked you like this," he repeats.

"no! no, he never did. not like you, jackie. mhm, shit, you feel so good."

"yeah, that's what i like to hear. come on, sweetheart, come on my cock. you got it, i know you do." he moves one of his hands back down to start thumbing at your clit, just enough to push you right over the edge. barely three seconds later, you come around him with a scream. thanking god that he doesn't live in an apartment complex. your cunt clenches around him as you come, giving him enough stimulation to follow suit. but he pulls out at the last second, coming on your stomach with a groan.

nobody moves for minutes. both of you needing that time to catch your breath. jack start gets up first, tucking himself back into his jeans. "i'll be back, just lie down," he says, kissing you on your temple. he leaves into the bathroom, before coming back out, a wet rag in hand. he cleans off his release from your stomach, moving down to wipe at your cunt. the cold rag makes you shiver and whine, attempting to close your legs. "shh, it's okay, baby. let me clean you up first," he coos, wiping you down as gentle as he can. once done, he tosses the rag in the same corner of the room as his shirt. "can you stand up?"

you grumble, attempting to roll over. "i'm too tired."

"i know, but you gotta go pee first. then we can go to bed." jack pulls you into his arms bridal style, quietly hissing at the ache in his back and leg. he carries you all the way into the bathroom, sitting you down on the toilet. leaving you to do your business as he finds you something to sleep in. a pair of boxers and old army shirt will do. just as you're finishing up washing your hands is when he returns. "you can sleep in these for tonight." you mutter a quiet 'thanks.'

jack turns around, giving you some privacy to change. it makes you giggle softly. the man just rearranged your guts and fucked you so well less than ten minutes ago, yet he's still not watching you as you change. "i'm done," you say, and he turns back around. the dark green shirt falls just above your knees, slipping off one of shoulder. the ends of your hair slightly curl from getting wet earlier, and you have that after sex glow. you look beautiful right now. he must realize that he's staring, because he clears his throat and steps to the side. "uh, you can lie down. i'll finish cleaning myself up," he says, to which you nod.

the second your head hits the pillow you're knocked out. from swimming to fucking, you're body is completely drained. about thirty minutes later, jack comes back out. grey hair wet with water dripping down his chest. he's careful to not make any noise on his crutches as he moves towards the bed. sitting down on his side, he leans the crutches on the wall, before rubbing some moisturizer on his stump. he slides under the covers, instinctively wrapping his arms around your waist. even in your sleep you lean into him. head on his chest, right above his heart. "sweet dreams, baby," he murmurs into your hair, kissing the top of your head.

it hits jack in this exact moment that he just slept with the goddaughter of his best friend. he should probably stop it before it happens again. before feelings arise and emotions get in the way. but it's too late. now that he's had you, he doesn't think he can let go.

Thank God you’re all the way out instead of back at camp where your middle school-age campers are tucked away, sleeping in their cabins on the hill.

At Camp Woodwick, the last night of their month-long summer session always ends on the Fourth of July. Which is tonight. And on the last night, the counselors don’t have a curfew, so the whole lot of you can pitch tents down by the lake and watch the fireworks show. 

It was fun for awhile, but after a handful of lackluster campfire stories and couple burnt marshmallows, Steve announced he was going to bed. The guys complained, begging him to light some fireworks with them, but he said he was going to turn in anyway. 

Right after his eyes caught yours. 

You excused yourself shortly after him, not even really sure why. And as you changed into your sleep shorts and a t-shirt, and settled into your sleeping bag, you blamed your sour mood on the heat and the bugs.

Assuring yourself that it had nothing to do with the fact that you and Steve Harrington have been at each other’s throats for weeks.

Tonight is is counselor’s night out! It’s supposed to be a fun end-of-the-summer bash for all the adults who were paid a few grand to babysit. It’s the night everyone looks forward to the most. 

You should be having fun—being young. Whatever that means. 

At some point between the whole saving-the-world-and-barely-escaping-with-your-life-thing, you became somewhat of a stranger to that idea. Your life had been, for lack of a better term, flipped upside down. 

Steve groans again. Hot embers flare to life in your core, stirred up by the sound of his thready voice. So low and breathless. 

He has to shut up. What is he thinking, jerking off like this with people nearby?

Granted, your tents are the furthest away from everyone else’s, and no one has really gone to bed yet. It shouldn’t be that big of a deal. But between the sticky humid air clinging to your skin, and the sharp whistles from exploding fireworks, when Steve moans softly again you finally just…snap. 

Ripping the blankets off yourself, you rustle around your tent for your flashlight, grumbling and muttering in the dark.

God, you have to do everything yourself, don’t you? 

You wince as your tent opens with a loud zip that punctuates the darkness surrounding you. Peeking over your shoulder, you can see the smoke from the campfire in the distance, curling up towards the stars. A few of your fellow counselors are still lounging around the fire, but most of them are small shadows dotting the lake’s edge. 

Steve pitched his orange tent under a tree. 

Stupid. 

Doesn’t he know that the roots will mess the tent stakes up? You’re surprised he could even get them in the ground. Honestly, it will probably fall down on him tonight. 

You hope it does. 

His tent is dark and quiet, but you march over anyway, flashlight raised so the beam falls straight on him when you turn it on. 

You yank on his tent’s zipper. It gives easily. A muffled curse comes from inside, and you click on the flashlight to reveal Steve lying on his side, bare chest rising and falling as he squints into the bright beam.

“God, you never could stay quiet, could you?” You say, bullying your way through the tent flap and zipping it back up behind you. 

Steve scrambles to throw his sleeping bag over himself, but it does practically nothing to hide his raging boner underneath. 

“What the fuck do you want?” He snaps, glaring up at you. 

Despite yourself, your eyes catch on a delicious bicep, and his muscled shoulder in the shine of your flashlight. That chest hair has taunted you all summer long. It’s been torturous pretending you didn’t know what it felt like against your bare breasts, against your back...

You clear your throat. “I just thought I’d let you know the whole camp can hear you jerking off.”

“What? I’m not—Jesus.” His big hand drags down his face, even as he pulls the sleeping bag up higher. “Get out.”

Whoops, there you go again, getting distracted by his hands. 

Maybe you should close your eyes, or turn around—something—because looking at him stretched out in the dark like this is making you think wicked things.

Your lips twist in a mocking smirk, and you gesture down to the sleeping bag. “Oh, c’mon, Steve. Why are you so embarrassed? It’s not like I haven’t seen it before.” 

Lots of times, actually. 

Through the years, you’d been there for everything—watched him get captured, tortured, and sacrificed for others. But after it was all over, and the dust settled, you fell into each other a different way. 

Because it wasn’t the days plagued with Demogorgons, evil Russians, or even Vecna that were the worst.

It was the days that followed.

The hollow darkness you experienced as the world kept moving on, oblivious to the memories that plagued you both. You had to learn how to live normally again, and something about that was both relieving and excruciatingly lonely at the same time.

The nightmares had a way of sticking to you like blood you couldn’t get off no matter how many times you scrubbed yourself raw in the shower. 

It was in those shaky, sweaty, middle-of-the-night fever dreams that you and Steve found solace in each other. Because when it all became a bit too much, you could dig your nails into someone else’s skin, feel a slick, hot mouth against yours—ground yourself in something intrinsically human just to prove that after everything, you still are.

But all that came to a screeching halt last summer. 

“Okay,” Steve sighs, shifting a little and squinting up at you. “Let’s say that I was. You wanted to come over and…cockblock me? From myself? And turn that thing off unless you want everyone to see two silhouettes in here.”

You click the flashlight off immediately, plunging you both into darkness. 

Maybe you should rescind your previous statement. Because now, without being able to see him, his proximity is somehow affecting you even more. 

You can hear his soft breaths, smell the lake water on his skin. And underneath it all, the familiar sounds and scents of him that opens a gaping hole of nostalgia in the pit of your stomach. 

You try to laugh, but it comes out cold. “You think I give a fuck if you’re rubbing one out, Harrington? No. I came over here because you’re fucking whimpering and moaning—”

“—I was not whimpering.” 

“—and you’re incapable of keeping quiet—yes, you were, and I was getting sick of hearing it. So, either do it quieter, or find someone to cover your fucking mouth.”

As you were talking, your vision adjusted to the darkness. Which is a very bad thing, because now you can see him again. Specifically the outline of his mussed hair as he lifts his chin to meet your gaze. 

“You offering?”

Your breath catches.

You should say no. You should tell him to go fuck himself—literally— and leave right now. He can let the whole camp hear him for all you care. 

But instead, you hesitate. 

Now, Steve is smart. Smarter than he gives himself credit for, that’s for sure. And there are certain patterns he’s picked up on with you over the years. Like, when you pause like that, the answer is almost always a yes. 

Which is why the second you go quiet, and the distant laughter of the other counselors fills the space between you, he’s already batting the sleeping bag off his lap. 

“I knew it,” he says. The fabric slips off him just as a firework bursts overhead, and your eyes drag over his body. The lean, tan muscle from all his time outside this summer, down to his long, hard cock jerking against his happy trail. “You’re so busy acting like you hate me, wanting to play this game where we bitch at each other all summer, and now you’re making up excuses to come into my tent—”

“Oh, trust me,” you scoff, tearing your eyes away to meet his again. “It’s not an excuse.”

“No?” he says softly, leaning back on one arm and gesturing at his body with the other. “Then, prove it.”

“Fine, but I’m only staying to keep you quiet,” you warn him, pinning him with a harsh look. 

“Sure. Whatever,” Steve rasps, watching as you drop to your knees beside him. 

Your fingers curl into his sleeping bag beside his shoulder, but you’re careful not to touch him. 

He wishes you would. 

You gesture impatiently at him, your hand a shadowy blur in the dark. “Go ahead and get it over with. I’m not sitting here all night. God.”

Steve rushes to obey, and when wraps his hand around his cock again, the rush is so intense it’s almost painful. The way you’re sitting there just watching him is making his head feel fuzzy, and his dick swell.

And look at you—pretending to not be affected in the slightest watching the flushed head poke out of his fist over and over as he jerks off in front of you. God, you turn him on so fucking much. 

Steve heaves a stuttering breath, and his head drops back onto the ground as the pleasure pools in his gut. He thinks he’s doing a good job being quiet. But he can’t smother the moan that escapes him the second your warm hand brushes his shoulder.

“Steve,” you hiss, warning lacing your voice. 

“Shut me up, then. Goddamn.” He groans, his cock twitching in his palm. “What are you even here for? I could do this myself—” At that moment, your hand finds his chest and, well, your fingers might as well be a defibrillator. His hips jerk, mouth dropping open in pleasure. “—oh, fuck yeah.”

Your touch is heaven. His eyelids threaten to shut as your fingers brush through his chest hair, over his ribs— so sure, and steady, soothing and warm. Like his flesh and bone is a map you know by heart. 

He’s panting, desperate not to make a sound and give you a reason to take your hand away while your palm trails lower.

He raises his chin to catch a glimpse of your profile as the fireworks crack in the sky, raining down in bright fizzling pops that he feels in his chest. 

Honestly, he should’ve known this is how the summer would end with you. 

He’s known it, and yet, he’s run from it. 

Because the last time he had you…God, he’s been such an idiot. 

Last summer, when you came home from college for break, he’d been sitting on your doorstep. A silent understanding passed between you two, and then you’d grabbed his hand and taken him up to your room.

Afterwards, you were laying under him, sweaty and warm, eyes glowing with…with something that made his heart tug painfully. And suddenly, it all got to be too much. 

He’d been craving you all semester. As if you were a long drag from a cigarette. And that gnawing ache didn’t surface with anyone else. Only you. 

His chest swelled up tight, and the bridge of his nose started to burn, and he realized… he was scared. 

Terrified, actually. 

Because what if the both of you reaching out for each other was nothing but a trained response, like Pavlov’s dogs or some shit? What if you had built this trauma bond…thing? He wasn’t entirely sure what that even meant, but he knew that no one could know him so intrinsically, so deeply, so invasively and still want him anyway. 

So, Steve proceeded to do the stupidest thing possible by dropping a kiss to your forehead, pulling his clothes back on, and walking out the door. 

He told himself it was for the best. Months after, even though he thought of you constantly, and still woke up slicked in sweat, hands flying to his wounds in the dark, he never called you. 

But when you showed up at Camp Woodwick, looking to earn some cash over the summer, same as him, all the walls he’d built up between him and his past came crashing down. 

So, he pushed you away. For weeks. It was worse than he thought it would be, though. Because when he pushed, you pushed back harder. 

His head swims with the knowledge that after a whole year without you, you’re here. You’re the same. Familiar. The smell of your hair, down to the soft breaths escaping to ur lips. 

He’s still hard as a rock, but his hand isn’t cutting it. Not when what he really wants is right here in front of him.

Steve curses under his breath. “You wanna help me out, sweetheart? Give me that mouth?”

“W-what?” You snort. “You can hardly be quiet with your own hand, Harrington. You think you’re going to survive that?”

“Please? Just lick it. Just the tip.”

“Stop begging. Also, be qu—“

“Right. Right, I’ll be quiet,” Steve grumbles. “Just—if you’re gonna fucking march in here and tell me to do it faster, then the least you could do is help me out.” Another firework squeals, then pops, showering you in gold as you blink down at him.

Boisterous laughs drift over the water, and your eyes flick up instinctively to meet the tent wall before your bottom lip disappears between your teeth. His stomach flips in anticipation. He knows that look. 

“C’mon,” he urges, fighting back a smirk. “You know how I like it, baby.”

Shit. 

Steve knows that pet name has always been your weakness. You’re not sure exactly why. Maybe it’s because it reminded you that on the outside, you were just friends. But in bed…you were his.

You shouldn’t fall for a cheap trick like that. Look at him, biting the corner of his mouth like he’s trying not to smirk. Cocky bastard. 

But, even so, you make the mistake of glancing down his body.

His hand slips away in a silent invitation, revealing his heavy cock jutting out from his soft tummy and you lose the war.

Rocks dig into your knees under the tent floor but you hardly pay them any mind, your clit already throbbing in anticipation of touching him. 

“Fine. But only because it’s faster.” You say.

Your hand curls around him, reveling in the hot, velvety feel of him in your palm. A sound slips from his throat, sudden and unbidden. 

You jerk your head up, and he can’t see your face clearly in the dark, but he knows your body language. The message is solidified when you bring your other hand up to rake through the hair on his chest, digging into his pec in warning. 

Steve’s hand lands on yours, and the warmth seeping through his fingers doesn’t just make your pussy clench, it also makes your nose burn. 

You turn your attention back to stroking him, ignoring the tightness in your lungs. Ignoring the way you’re practically holding hands across his chest.

“God, you’ve been kind of a bitch to me all summer,” Steve grunts, thrusting up into your touch. “You know that?”

You roll your eyes, even though he can’t see you. “Steve, you can’t call me a bitch at the same time you’re fucking my hand. Either we’re fighting or we’re fucking. Pick one. Jesus.”

“I don’t know.” His head falls back against the ground with a heavy thud. “We’re pretty good at both, apparently. God, your hand feel so g—”

“Shut the fuck up,” you hiss.

“Sorry! Sorry.”

Another firework shrieks into the sky, exploding in a loud pop, and showering you both in a flash of red. It lights up Steve’s body, illuminating the scars along his side. Long jagged things, carved deep under his ribs.

You can’t help but remember the panic that seized you when the Demobats descended on him. You’ll never forget the sickening horror that coursed through your body when you looked over to see him pale and shaking, dripping in blood. 

You swallow hard. Then, as if pulled by some invisible string, you lower your head and brush your mouth against his skin. His core muscles flex at the soft glide of your tongue on his belly, but he tenses as your lips trace his scar line.

“Don’t—” he rasps. Suddenly, his hand flies down and tugs your chin away. 

“What?” You whisper against his skin, a little teasing. But when you flick your eyes up to his, he looks away, raking a hand through his hair. Your hand slows around his cock and you frown. A thread of anxiety coils in your gut. 

“What?” you repeat. “I was there, too, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember.” He lets out a short laugh, but the warmth is gone from his voice. “I just—really don’t want to be reminded of that right now.”

You pull back, hands falling away from him instantly. 

Another bottle rocket screams, punctuating the heavy beat of silence that follows. Steve notices the shift in you, the way your body locks up in hesitation. 

Sighing heavily, he raises his palms to his face and digs them into his eyes. 

“Sorry, I’m—that was fucked up. I’m sorry.”

You sit back on your heels, suddenly unsure, and your eyes drop to the ground. 

He combs through his hair again roughly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I was just…there’s a kid here that reminds me of a little Eddie, and the scars—”

You smile softly. “Reed, right? I’ve been thinking the same thing all summer.”

“Every time I see those scars, I think about the bats, and then I think about losing Eddie, and then with you here—” He gestures towards you and he trails off. 

You don’t need him to finish the thought, though. You can see it in the way his chest heaves, and the slight crack in his voice. 

With a sigh, you settle down onto the ground beside him. He shuffles wordlessly, giving you room to lay on the other half of his sleeping bag. 

“It’s okay, Steve. This is how it always was for us. Just—two people trying to get through it, you know? To feel something again.” 

“Oh yeah? Is that all were?” His voice is deeper now. Huskier. It makes a lump build in your throat. “Was that all it was for you?”

You watch the light show fall across the tent ceiling together, muted little orbs glowing through the fabric. 

“No,” you say softly. “But everything hits me at once sometimes, too, you know. And when that happens...fuck, I just need you. And that feeling…” The words fizzle out and fall like the embers in the sky, and your hand reaches up to clutch at your chest—like it would be easier just to rip out your heart and show him.

Steve hesitates, swallowing hard. “It’s not…bad, right? That feeling?” 

“No, Steve. It’s not bad.” 

A quiet moment passes, then he blows out a breath. “At college, they have these therapists. Robin dragged me to a session once, so I went.” You turn your head to look at him, but he keeps his eyes above. “I was scared, like, what if they didn’t believe me, you know? And, well, I’m not sure if Dr. Treya really believes me, but that doesn’t seem to matter much. She treats it all like it’s true, anyway.”

There’s a loud squeal of a bottle rocket, then laughter somewhere in the distance. 

“I’m sorry we fought the last few weeks,” you whisper. “I was angry. But mostly just hurt. By last summer.”

Steve sits up a little at that, his strong arm bracing his torso as he looks down at you. “And you had every right to be,” he says. “I was a coward for leaving like I did. I got scared, I think. But, I’m getting better. At least, Robin says I am.”

You chuckle. “I’m sure she’s right.”

“But I am sorry, too. For that, and for…just for everything.”

You gaze up at him, and the urge to cup his face and bring his lips down to yours grips you by the spine. But Steve lays back down next to you before you can say anything. 

“I’m proud of you for going to see a counselor,” you say into the dark after a long moment. “Does it help?”

“Yeah.” He swallows. “But I wish there was something I could do, too, you know? Other than just talk about it.” 

He takes the world upon his shoulders, this boy.

He deserves to know that, at the end of the day, someone has him. Someone wants him. Not just for what he can give, but for who he is. He’s been pushing you away because you had that for him, and he didn’t know how to accept it. Until recently. 

You see that now. 

His bare arm is so warm against yours. You follow it down with your fingers until you find his hand, threading your fingers through his. 

“Steve, you’ve already done so much. For everyone.”

His hand practically swallows yours. Long fingers, with blunt tips. They just remind you of all the ways he’s used them to pull orgasms from your body, one after the other.

All he does is give, give, give. Even when you give him hell all summer, fuck, he gives that right back. 

Your hair whispers against the sleeping bag as you turn to look at him. His brown eyes meet yours, and his soft exhale ghosts across your cheek.

You search his face for permission, because he already knows what you’re asking. When his expression softens, just enough, you don’t hesitate. Hooking your leg around his waist, you roll on top of him and sit up. 

“Let me take care of you,” you say.

He sucks in a breath at the sight of you rising above him, his hand coming to land hot and heavy on your thigh. 

Scooting backwards, you lower your mouth to his torso. He hisses, his other hand flying to tangle in your hair. His cock has softened slightly against his hip, but you can fix that with your mouth in no time. 

His chest heaves with a shaky breath. “Wait, no. No, baby.” 

You suck a soft love bite on his hip before raising your eyes to his. “You don’t want it anymore?”

“No—shit, of course I want it, but—” He snorts, but his hand finds yours and he tries to pull you up. “If we’re going to do this, I want to do it for real. Not to distract each other. Not like we used to. Can…can you do that?”

You nod once. Then again. “Yes. Yes, of course, Steve. I wasn’t—I was just—” your heart slams into your throat. “I still love you.”

A slow, sweet smile spreads across Steve’s face. Your cheeks flush, and you try to squirm away, but Steve squeezes your thigh, urging you to find his eyes again. And when you do, you see that familiar heat is back. 

“Good,” he says. “Now we can get down to the real question of what the fuck do you think you’re doing barging into my tent when I’m masturbating, you little brat?”

Heat licks up your spine, and you bite back a grin. “I told you! You were being loud.”

“Yeah, sure, now tell me the real reason.”

“That is the real reason!”

“Don’t lie to me.” 

You open your mouth to argue, but his hands clamp down on your hips before you can, and in one smooth motion, he flips you so you’re on your back. Your heart slams against your ribs as he pulls you down under him, his chest rising and falling against yours. 

“Just admit it,” he says, a cocky grin twisting his lips right over yours. “You wanted me to lick that pretty pussy for you, didn’t you?”

Your panties dampen instantly, pulsing in anticipation of feeling his mouth on you after so long. 

You might have been at each other’s throats for weeks, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t like it. You saw it in his eyes by the campfire and by every rough two-hand touch football game. Every time your face went red and you mouthed off at him he’d just smile and lift his eyebrows as if to say, ‘is that all you got?’ Maybe crook two fingers at you with a cocky tilt of his head, urging you to ‘give me more.’ 

Well, you could definitely give him more. 

“I don’t know, Harrington,” you sigh, tilt your head against the tent floor in mock confusion. “I hardly remember what getting head from you is like.”

His grin turns wicked. Then suddenly, he’s moving—greedy hands tugging at your shorts. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he says, voice dripping in that mocking tone that always makes you wet. “I thought maybe you’d want me to do that thing my tongue that always—” A whimper escapes your throat and he breaks off mid-sentence with an openmouthed laugh. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

He crawls down your body, taking your shorts and underwear with him, and you gasp when something hard and hot brushes your thigh. Glad to see he’s sporting that erection again. You feel a fleeting disappointment at the fact you haven’t gotten to suck him off yet, but it’s probably better this way, to be honest. 

It’s literally impossible to make Steve Harrington be quiet while getting a blowjob—

Without warning, he plunges two fingers deep into your slick channel. Your breath stutters, hips bucking into his palm on instinct. He groans out loud, but you’re too blissed out by the stretch that you can’t even get onto him for it. 

Lungs seizing, heart pounding, you squirm on the slippery fabric of his sleeping bag, trying to get even closer. Your nipples harden against your T-shirt, begging for his touch. For more of him.

You peek down your body just in time to see his head disappear between your thighs, and then his mouth is on you. God, his tongue is so warm and wet against your clit, and his skillful fingers stroke you just right. In and out, then curling into the spongey spot inside that has your mouth dropping open. 

“Missed those sounds you make,” he says, voice muffled against your pussy. 

Shit. 

You hadn’t even realized you were making noise. You dig your knee into his side in retaliation and he chuckles, squirming away before diving in again.

He licks messy, broad strokes, tasting you on purpose, getting you all over his tongue. When you grind up into his face he grabs you by the hips and moves with you, following your every wriggle and writhe. 

Yep, his mouth still makes the world feel dull, reducing your hearing to the whoosh of your heartbeat in your ears as everything else just fades away into mind numbing bliss—

“Shut up,” Steve says, pulls back from you with a wicked grin. His face is covered in your arousal, glinting in the firework light, and the sight makes you clench around his fingers. “Seriously, shut up if you don’t want them to hear you.” 

“Wha—Steve!” You whine, canting your hips up into his mouth again as he lowers himself back down to you. “H-help.”

He shrugs. “I’m not the one who gives a shit if they hear.”

The vibrations of his voice against your clit rips a moan from your throat, unbidden, and your lips cinch together. Your hand flies to your hip, finding his fingers there. You try to pull his hand up but he shakes off your touch, holding onto your waist and puling you roughly against his tongue. 

You whine in protest, and go to pull on his hand again, but that’s a mistake. 

He brings his palm down to your inner thigh with a sharp smack that has your back arching off the ground, your eyes narrowing in warning. 

“Cover your own mouth, sweetheart, fuck,” he chuckles, giving your clit a soothing series of licks. “I’m busy.”

“Fuck you,” you whisper, but it quickly turns into a needy whine when he sucks the swollen nub into his mouth. 

Steve continues to stretch you out on his fingers, murmuring dirty things into your pussy as he does. How sweet you taste. How tightly you’re squeezing his fingers. But you barely hear any of it. 

You’re so wet—both from his mouth and your arousal—that your inner thighs slick together when you try to squeeze them. He yanks your legs apart again, and you’re powerless to stop him because the pads of his fingers are dragging out tendrils of pleasure from your spine you haven’t felt in a year. 

Thankfully, the fireworks seem to be reaching a peak outside— loud bangs and pops going off every few seconds help drown out the sounds of your needy pussy and blissed-out sighs. Because frankly, you don’t have the brain power to think about anything except how desperately you need him inside you. 

You whimper again accidentally. “Steve—” 

“Okay, baby,” he replies instantly, knowing what you need by the tone in your voice alone. His fingers slip out and he rises up over you, your knees falling open eagerly as he lines himself up.

When he notches the tip of his cock at your entrance, your cunt greedily sucks him in. He gasps, hips bucking forward instinctively, and neither one of you are able to stop the mixed groans that ensue from finally, finally being connected like this again after so long. 

Big hands scramble for a hold on your waist, blunt nails pinching your skin as he drags himself back, then forth, slamming up into you with a depth that makes you sob.

“Still fuckin’ made for me,” he groans. “Goddamnit.”

You’re panting, arms wrapped around his shoulders, biting the skin of your forearm to keep from moaning as his hips roll slow and deliberate. 

“Good girl,” he praises, and you shudder, feeling the ache grow sharper. “Staying so quiet, look at you. You can’t ask me to be silent when you come around me, okay? Fuck—that’s like being tortured all over again.”

You shoot him a withering look even as you writhe underneath him. “That’s not funny.”

He laughs, and his silhouette shifts over you, his cock driving deeper and hitting that spot inside you that makes you see sparks that aren’t there. “Sorry, sweetheart. I just—oh yeah, grind that clit into me. That’s it.”

 Your hands rake through his hair, desperately trying to hold onto something. But the force behind his thrusts causes you to pull on the strands, and, well, that was a mistake. 

His teeth sink into the skin of your shoulder in order to stay somewhat quiet, and oh—fuck. How could you have forgotten what pulling his hair does to him? Stars burst behind your eyes as the fireworks crackle overhead, and the tension between your hips coils tighter. 

“Fuck—Steve,” you gush. “Please.”

“What do you need?” He rasps against your throat, sucking and biting. “I’m all yours.”

Little tremors course though your legs as your orgasm builds, the swollen head of his cock nudging those spots deep inside that ache for him. 

Only him.

“You need me to kiss you?” he says, breath hot in your ear. “Need me to shut you up?”

You nod frantically. 

“Go on, ask me for it.”

You whimper, too far gone to play the game anymore. “Kiss me, Stevie. Please, please—” 

“Fuck,” Steve groans at the nickname he hasn’t heard in so long, and instantly lowers his mouth to yours. 

The first brush of his lips against yours makes you want to cry. 

“Missed you, baby,” he says, then kisses you deeper, his tongue dipping into your mouth and swirling with yours. “So much. Missed kissing you. Missed talking with you.” He hesitates, pulling back slightly before planting one soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Missed loving you. But I guess I never really stopped, did I?”

Your eyes connect for one heartbreaking, devestatingly sweet second before you pull him back down, pouring your love for him into the gentle, yet desperate stroke of your tongue against his. 

Feeling you kiss him like that snaps something deep inside him. 

Your inner muscles clamps down around him as his thrusts turn messy and hard, and his hands run over your shoulders, your breasts, your hips, pulling your body back down to meet his every thrust. 

The pleasure builds to an insurmountable level as he rips your shirt up to capture your nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and making you want to scream. 

You flatten your palm over your lips, whimpering through the gaps in your fingers over and over, squeezing your eyes shut as Steve pushes you higher and higher until finally—you’re falling. 

Your teeth bite into your fingers hard to muffle your moans as your pussy clenches down like a vice on Steve’s cock rhythmically, your orgasm rushing through you. 

He lets out a choked sound above you, and with the way his chest falls in a sequence of familiar pants, you know he’s close. Through the pleasured haze, your other hand flies to cover his mouth just in time for his orgasm to hit. 

“Mmhmm, mhhhmm.” Steve whines loudly, as his body tenses, and his cock twitches inside you. And you have no choice but to shove your fingers inside his lips, forcing him to suck on them as he reaches his peak. His eyes roll back as he bullies his cock against your cervix, painting your walls with his come, even as his tongue strokes your knuckles tenderly and reverently.

It takes awhile for the both of you to come back down to earth, but eventually, you let your fingers fall from his mouth and he laughs breathlessly, dipping to give you one last slow kiss before slipping out of you. 

He fumbles around for his T-shirt in the darkness and then cleans you up with care, which makes your heart twist. Once he’s done, he settles on his side, and pulls you into him, your back pressed to his chest. You burrow into him, his arm settling around you, and it’s amazing how quickly your lashes start to fall, wrapped up in this familiar comfort. 

“So…truce?” Steve whispers into the crook of your shoulder. You laugh softly.

Even under a hazardously leaning tent, and a sky littered with mini explosions, the world seems a little less dark right now. The past, a little less heavy. 

Maybe it’s because neither of you are running away from it, anymore. But rather, facing it. Together.

And because you know, without a shadow of a doubt, Steve Harrington’s heartbeat will always be in your future.

“Truce.”

a/n: the tent definitely collapses on top of them five minutes later, by the way. also, my idea originally was not nearly as angsty, but don’t you just love it when characters highjack your story? god, the fics always turn out so much better that way.

The sound of your door shutting behind you resonated loudly throughout your apartment. Finally out of reach from the world outside, your shoulders let go of some tension that you had harbored all day as they immediately started to hang lower. You dropped your bag carelessly on the floor next to the pair of shoes you had just taken off, before sinking further into your space.

A ball of black and white fur quickly made its way through your legs, rubbing its coat against your calves and purring. At least someone’s happy to see me.

You bent over and picked him up, scrubbing his chin lovingly. “Hey, Sergio. Had a good day?”

Sergio meowled quietly, nuzzling into your hand, before you dropped him back on the ground. “Let’s get you fed, big boy.”

Your routine quickly kicked in, familiar and grounding – feed Sergio a can of soft cat food, feed yourself whatever’s left in the fridge, get undressed, take a shower, put on comfy clothes, make a cup of warm tea, and settle in front of your computer monitor for the rest of the night. Easy. No place for your mind to stray. In theory.

Except lately, your carefully curated regimen was beginning to feel like it wasn’t enough. Which was deeply annoying, because you were making really good progress – you had found healthy ways to manage your anxiety, had gotten yourself a steady job that paid decently well even though it was boring, and you had finally started feeling like you were slowly getting your spark back. But there was still something that kept bothering you, so you decided to bring it up at your next appointment with Mrs. Grant, the social worker you were seeing. Well, Jenna, actually, since she had insisted you call her by her first name.

“I don’t know, it’s odd… I’ve always been pretty introverted and comfortable being alone. But lately, I’m doing better and all, and… it’s like I want someone to notice it? I guess I’m just starting to feel kinda lonely instead of just alone.”

Jenna hummed and nodded her head, her expression open as understanding flashed across her features. “Sometimes, people change. It’s not because you’ve been one way all your life that you’ll stay like that for the rest of it. It’s fluid, right?”

You thought about her words, and it hit you that you had talked about this before with her, but with your anxiety. One of your concerns in the beginning was that you’d always feel stressed out, that you’d never change. But you had.

You nodded, looking at the plant next to your seat that always felt safer to stare at when you spoke. “Yeah… It’s just, I don’t really know how I would even start to make friends. S’kinda awkward at my age. And I think I still have a long way to go in terms of healing and bettering myself.”

Jenna tilted her head slightly. “Hm… I hear you when you say it can be daunting. Have you thought of ways you could meet people?”

You shook your head. “Not really. I work alone most of the time, so I don’t really have any cool coworkers. And I don’t really go out.”

Jenna hummed again and shifted in her seat. “Let me ask you this. Do you want me to listen right now, or do you want me to brainstorm ideas with you?”

You loved when she checked in like that. “I’d love ideas,” you said with a slight smile.

Jenna nodded and took the time to think, looking up before her gaze landed back on you. “Well, there might be a way to start without much pressure.”

You frowned slightly. “Yeah? How?”

She saw how the hour was almost up in her peripheral vision before she spoke again. “There are a few local forums with strict guidelines that are basically support groups for people dealing with things like you do : anxiety, ADHD, self-bettering endeavours, you name it. Maybe it could be a way for you to talk to new people without much stake, and to share experiences.”

Your face relaxed, but you still looked skeptical. An online forum? Really? In this day and age? Still, you didn’t shut down her idea and you nodded faintly. “Yeah, I guess I could try.”

She scribbled the name of a forum on a piece of paper. “We’re gonna have to stop here for today, but here is one that I know of. I’m sure there are more but just make sure there are rules and stuff if you find some. It’s still the internet.”

The corners of your mouth lifted in amusement as you took the note from her. “Will do. Thank you, Jenna.”

She smiled at you as she got up. “Same time next week?”

“I’ll be there.”

****

The idea swam in your mind for a few days. A forum. It felt odd to picture yourself talking to an anonymous person while revealing the most intimate parts of yourself – your self-doubt, anxiety, loneliness... But at the same time, you couldn’t deny that it intrigued you. Maybe you could treat it as a practice run for the real deal. Maybe, in the future, when you meet someone cool at a pottery class or something, you’d look back on your forum chatting days and be glad that you took the leap.

It was that feeling that inhabited your ribcage as you finally got home. Your day at work had been gruelling, more demanding than usual.

Pick up Sergio, give him a few scratches, feed him, sort of feed yourself, shower, computer.

You looked around your purse and pulled out the slightly crumpled piece of paper that Jenna had given you. Your very own middle-of-nowhere-town’s self-help and mental health support forum.

You stared at the note, chewing on your bottom lip. “Let’s just check it out,” you mumbled under your breath before typing the name of the forum in the search bar of your favorite browser.

Not shockingly, it was the first result on the list.

You clicked on the blue link, before being greeted by a retro looking page detailing the rules and guidelines for using the forum.

Welcome! This forum is meant to be a space where residents of our community can anonymously talk to each other and offer support, advice and share experiences. Any use of this forum for differing purposes is prohibited and could result in a permanent ban. Here are the rules to follow :

Users must be at least 18 years of age.

Respect is of utmost importance. Any disrespectful interaction will get the user suspended.

This is an anonymous forum, meaning that any reveal in identity is prohibited to ensure the safety of all users.

If you witness any worrying behavior, please flag it to the site’s moderator in our contact info.

Thank you and start chatting!

God, even the welcoming message is kind of dorky. You clicked the ‘start chatting’ button and it took you to a page with three empty bars – username, password, and password confirmation.

You sighed and looked around your room for inspiration. You couldn’t put your name, because it had to be anonymous. You eyed the glittery stickers on your speaker until you felt Sergio’s tail brush the back of your knee. You looked between your legs with a smile.

Username : Sergio’s_Servant

You erased it immediately after seeing how insane it looked written down, cringing at yourself. “Oh my god, way too BDSM-y.”

Your gaze then bounced between the three different cups of water, coffee and juice on your desk. You tried again.

Username : HydratedCatMom

You snorted. “Sure, whatever,” you said as you created your password, not certain you could come up with anything better if you were to think about it longer.

As you entered the forum, the simplicity of it hit you first. There was a general chat that looked like it had been dead for ages – the last message on it went back to two years ago. The aesthetic of the whole site was overall gray with a bit of blue, very early Microsoft core. “Amazing,” you said sarcastically, already feeling like this was a complete waste of time.

You noticed a few more specialized or ‘problem specific’ chats in a menu to the left. You clicked on the one titled ‘Self-Help’.

Your eyebrows pulled together softly. You found a chat with a few three-year-old messages between two users named HarleyD123 and Smile2000. It seemed like a normal conversation – people talking about their problems and tricks they had found helped them. What really surprised you, though, was the last message of the chat – a five-days-old one.

HalfBaked_T : Hi! Anyone still using this chat?

The username made a small smile pull at your lips. You tilted your head, staring at the question like it was a puzzle you were unsure how to solve. On one hand, you could simply leave the site and ignore it. No one would know, you would find other ways to talk to people, no big deal. On the other hand, you could finally get out of your comfort zone and greet the person back. You would probably never even get a response, since it had already been five days since they’d written that, and you could at least say you had tried.

You started typing.

HydratedCatMom : Hey! I don’t know if you’ll see this but I’m here! :)

Before you could second guess yourself, you pressed ‘send’ and laid back in your chair, immediately grabbing your reusable water bottle to busy your hands. Simultaneously, Sergio meowled from his place on your bed, almost like he was congratulating you.

****

Ping.

Travis looked up from his book, brows furrowed and mouth frowning slightly.

“What the hell’s that?”

His feet fell from his work desk as he looked at the computer where the sound had come from. It usually stayed silent, so this was new.

He grabbed the mouse and clicked through the multiple opened pages – recipes, directions, questionable searches – you name it. Everyone that used this computer had a habit of never closing the pages because of that one time Travis accidentally pressed ‘X’ on one of Griffin’s searches and the latter blew up in Teacake’s face.

He finally landed on the page responsible for the sound – that self-help forum he had found while browsing for used books in the area – where he had written a message even though it had looked completely abandoned out of sheer curiosity.

His eyes widened when he saw someone had answered him.

“HydratedCatMom?” He chuckled under his breath, picturing a lonely fifty-something woman with six cats.

Still, he felt good that someone saw and took the time to answer him. He cracked his knuckles and buried his hands in his grown-out bleached hair, before he started typing.

HydratedCatMom : Hey! I don’t know if you’ll see this but I’m here! :)

HalfBaked_T : Woah, I really didn’t expect anyone to answer haha

You got the message relatively quickly, maybe a few minutes after yours, and it made you pause. You weren’t expecting it either. A warm and uncomfortable feeling bloomed in your chest, one that you were painfully familiar with. You started taking slow and deep breaths, speaking softly to yourself. “’Kay, you’re okay. You’re just talking to someone. It’s good. It’s what you wanted. It’s normal to feel anxious and it’ll pass.”

You stared at the screen before deciding to type.

HydratedCatMom : Oh! Me neither haha

It didn’t take long before you got an answer.

HalfBaked_T : Yeah, this chat is pretty lame

HalfBaked_T : Not that you’re lame for using it!

HalfBaked_T : I just mean it was literally abandoned

HalfBaked_T : And like, I’m using it so if you’re lame then I’m lame too

HalfBaked_T : Okay, sorry. I’ll stop now

You giggled to yourself as you saw the panicked messages pop up on your screen. Maybe the person behind the funny username was just as nervous as you were. For some reason, that made you feel better.

HydratedCatMom : Haha don’t worry, it’s fine. I am kinda lame

HalfBaked_T : Come on, I’m sure you aren’t. So… what brings you here?

You took a deep breath, leaning back into your desk chair and looking up at the ceiling. You wanted to be truthful, but you also didn’t know how much you were willing to say for a first conversation.

HydratedCatMom : I’ve been working on myself a lot. Anxiety and whatnot. And I wanted to try to start talking to people since I’ve been feeling like I don’t have that many friends. You?

You cringed a bit, but you stuck with it as you sent the message.

HalfBaked_T : Oh, I get that. It’s not really easy to make new friends

HalfBaked_T : I read a lot of self-help books. Did some stuff I’m not proud of and I’m trying to stand up for myself and think things through instead of just diving headfirst

Travis covered his mouth with his hand and rubbed at his jaw as he stared at his last message. Was it too ominous?

“‘Stuff I’m not proud of’, they could think I’m a freakin' murderer or somethin',” he mumbled when he saw that you hadn’t answered yet. He quickly started typing again.

HalfBaked_T : It’s nothing that bad, I swear!

HalfBaked_T : Just went to prison for a little while

HalfBaked_T : Damn it, I keep making it worse for myself

HalfBaked_T : Let’s just say that if your “friend” asks you to stay behind the wheel while they make a quick run into the gas station… don’t do it

HalfBaked_T : Basically, I’m too gullible and I’m trying not to be

He stood up then, a frustrated huff leaving him as his hands dragged down his face. “Can’t even shut the hell up via textin', man.”

It took a minute. A long minute where he convinced himself he had basically ruined his chances of having a conversation with the stranger.

But then, he heard the soft ping come through the busted speakers of the work computer again.

HydratedCatMom : Hey, I get it. I’ve made mistakes before too

Travis stared at your message for a while, blinking confusedly. He had not expected this unknown person to be so understanding, especially not about how their new pen pal was an ex-convict.

HalfBaked_T : You don’t mind?

HydratedCatMom : Not really. It’s not like I’ll meet you and if you’re trying to work on yourself, then I’m right there with you

HalfBaked_T : Oh, yeah. Well thanks for not freaking out :)

HalfBaked_T : And to go back on what you said, as for feeling lonely, I get it.

HalfBaked_T : Been cutting some bad influences from my life and I realize now that there haven’t been many good ones

HydratedCatMom : I can understand that. Sounds like we’re in a similar situation after all

HalfBaked_T : Yeah, I think so :)

Travis smiled at the screen, feeling weirdly content. “Well alright, HydratedCatMom,” he said to himself, slightly surprised.

You grinned too, Sergio now curled up in your lap as you petted his head. Maybe this forum thing wasn’t as bad an idea as you thought it was at first.

HydratedCatMom : I gotta get some sleep, but I’ll be back tomorrow, same time if you wanna keep chatting

HalfBaked_T : Yeah, that’s cool! I work nights and it’s pretty boring, so I’ll be here

HydratedCatMom : Cool, later then :)

HalfBaked_T : bye :)

As you shut off your computer, you were left with an interesting feeling inside your chest. The anxiety had dulled down now that you had actually taken the first step and chatted with someone. But there was still a slight buzzing sensation beneath your skin. Maybe a mix of the lingering stress and the excitement of talking to someone new.

It took you longer to fall asleep. Sergio was curled up behind your knees as you laid on your side – the melatonin pill you had taken a minute ago slowly dissolving under your tongue in an effort to try and jumpstart your sleepiness. Were you making a mistake? Was it a good idea to chat with an ex-convict? You weren’t one to judge people, and it didn’t seem like they had done a violent crime. But people lied all the time.

Thoughts kept bouncing around your head, but they started to make less and less sense. They blurred into each other until it was unclear if you were awake or dreaming, and then your alarm went off.

****

As Travis got to work the next day – or well, the next night – he waved off his coworker and settled at his desk. He immediately pulled up the forum.

There were no new messages. “Hm.”

He leaned back in the desk chair, his arms coming up so his fingers intertwined and cradled the back of his head. He talked to himself quietly. “Yeah, no worries. It was a little later when she wrote last night.”

He went to start typing but he stopped himself, tilting his head like a puppy. “She? Do I even know that? Oh. Cat mom. Right. Probably a she, but who knows.”

HalfBaked_T : Hello again? :)

About 45 minutes later, your reply came.

HydratedCatMom : Hiya!

HalfBaked_T : Had a good day at work?

HalfBaked_T : Assuming you work

HydratedCatMom : Yeah, I work :) It was okay, pretty boring. You’re at work now, right?

Travis wanted to ask you what you did for work, but he wondered if that was going against the forum’s rules, so he didn’t.

HalfBaked_T : Yeah, boring too

HalfBaked_T : So, apart from this, do you have any plans on how to meet new people?

HydratedCatMom : I’m not too sure, actually. I don’t have many coworkers, and I don’t really know where I’d start :/

HalfBaked_T : It’s so hard when we’re older, right?

HalfBaked_T : Like are we just supposed to go up to people and say hi?

HalfBaked_T : Like, I can do that. I talk A LOT. But people usually find it weird or off-putting I guess when they don’t know me

HalfBaked_T : Even when they know me too, to be fair

HalfBaked_T : They don’t really stick around

HydratedCatMom : I feel like if someone did that to me, it would be way easier haha I could just lay back and listen

HydratedCatMom : For me, going up to someone randomly is crazy stressful

HalfBaked_T : Oh I didn’t think of that! But yeah, with your anxiety and all that, I bet it’s hard

HalfBaked_T : We’d make a good team tho

HalfBaked_T : Like I start talking and you tell me when to shut up haha

Their reply made you laugh – a strong belly one – startling Sergio as he took off running under the bed. “Oh, sorry baby!” You bent slightly to see his shiny green eyes staring you down from under your unmade resting place. The forum quickly came back into your mind and pulled you away from your ungrateful son with an amused scoff.

“We’d make a good team tho.” You tried to picture it, but you quickly ran into a problem. You didn’t know who they were. What they looked like. You didn’t even know if you were talking to a man or a woman or someone that doesn’t define themselves as such. Your curiosity grew, but you were too shy to actually ask.

HydratedCatMom : Haha that would definitely help me actually

HydratedCatMom : You’re funny :)

HalfBaked_T : Thanks haha

HalfBaked_T : But I’m just a guy who talks too much

“Oh, so he’s a guy. Good to know, I guess,” you said quietly to yourself, popping another piece of chocolate into your mouth from the candy bar you had gotten yourself as a little treat earlier.

HydratedCatMom : I saw online that a good way to meet people would be to join a class or a club or something

HalfBaked_T : I guess that’s fair

HalfBaked_T : Cause then you know you at least have one thing in common, right?

HalfBaked_T : Makes conversation easier

You found yourself smiling a bit to yourself, enjoying having this exchange with a total stranger. It felt good to talk to someone that wasn’t your therapist and that you didn’t have to speak to for your job or for the sake of being polite at the grocery store.

HydratedCatMom : Yeah exactly

HydratedCatMom : Been thinking about joining this pottery class downtown. I walk by the studio sometimes and it looks fun, but all the people look so cool haha It kinda intimidates me

HalfBaked_T : Pottery’s cool

HalfBaked_T : I’m sure someone would talk to you :)

HydratedCatMom : IDK… I feel like everyone knows everyone else already and I’d just be kinda awkward in a corner lol

HalfBaked_T : Oh I get it, kinda like arriving in the middle of the school year and all the cliques are already formed so you have nowhere to go

HalfBaked_T : Valid fear

HalfBaked_T : But you would probably have to go in order to know, right?

HydratedCatMom : Yeah, I guess so

HydratedCatMom : But I don’t feel ready yet I think :/

HalfBaked_T : That’s okay :)

HalfBaked_T : I could really take example on you and how you think things through haha

His reply made you pause and tilt your head. It was the first time someone had told you that what you considered a character flaw of yours could actually be a positive trait. Sure, thorough thinking and anxiety are two different things, but it is a fact that you don’t make rash decisions. You’re good at analyzing and trying to figure out what’s right.

The corners of your lips pulled up, and your cheeks reddened slightly.

HydratedCatMom : Never saw it like that actually

Travis’ eyebrows furrowed and created a shallow crease in the middle of his forehead, his fingers rubbing absently at the stubble on his jaw. Can she really not see that?

HalfBaked_T : Like what?

HalfBaked_T : Like a quality? Cause to me, it is

HalfBaked_T : I used to be a terminal ‘Yes man’, like anyone would ask me to do something and I’d just go for it, no questions asked

HalfBaked_T : And it’s been hard to try and settle down and ask myself if I actually should do it

HalfBaked_T : Maybe I don’t need to do this really dumb thing just cause someone asked me to, you know?

HalfBaked_T : Anyway, sorry, I’m rambling again. Basically, I talk way too much and think too little, and I’m working on it.

HalfBaked_T : So yeah. I find it impressive that it seems to come naturally to you

His strong hands gripped his thighs as he shook his head a little, feeling like maybe you’ll finally get bored of him and tell him to shut up like everyone else does.

HydratedCatMom : Well, I feel like it’s not all black and white. I can quickly start overthinking and trigger my anxiety, and I wish I could have some of your spontaneity. So don’t be so hard on yourself :)

His grip loosened, a warm feeling spreading inside his chest and making him relax slightly in the desk chair. His chin tucked gently into his zip-up Atchison Storage jacket, his teeth catching on the zipper.

HalfBaked_T : Yeah, I guess you’re right :)

HydratedCatMom : I gotta get some sleep. Same time tmrw? Only if you want, of course

HalfBaked_T : Yeah, okay!

HydratedCatMom : Night!

HalfBaked_T : Night :)

****

For about a week and a half, chatting with this anonymous guy became routine. You woke up in the morning eager to go to work, just so you could come back home and exchange messages with him. You both had started to learn things about the other – things that didn’t really threaten the whole anonymity of the site. He had learned your cat is named Sergio and that you love him very much. You had picked up on the fact that he likes to read horror books. The conversations became less and less about self-help and seeking advice, and more and more about talking to a friend.

And when you saw Jenna again, you told her all about it. She listened to you with a soft smile on her face, her head nodding gently. She could see your excitement at getting to know someone new, even if you kept saying it wasn’t for real.

“Why do you keep saying that?” She asked, head tilted. She didn’t sound accusing, just curious.

“Say what?” You tried to clarify, brows pulled in.

“That it’s ‘not for real’ or it ‘doesn’t count’?”

You broke eye contact with her, looking at the ground as you thought about it. “I don’t know… Well, I do. It’s the anonymous part. Like I don’t know him for real, you know? I can’t be friends with him if I don’t know who he is.”

You thought you were making sense, and she hummed and nodded as if you were. But then what she said made you see it differently.

“It sounds like you know him pretty well now except for his name and face. I feel like knowing someone like you do that man online is a better basis for friendship than ‘identity’.”

“Huh.” You looked at her with wide eyes before a soft smile bloomed on your lips.

****

SLAM!

The sound of your door forcefully closing reverberated throughout your whole apartment building. You tossed your bag on the ground, groaning loudly. Your clothes and your hair were dripping wet, creating puddles in your entryway as Sergio looked at you warily from around the corner of the hallway. Even he, your usually affectionate cat, didn’t want to come closer. What a shit day.

A few hours earlier, you had been driving home from work in the pouring rain. The water had been falling in long ropes and pretty much had made it impossible to see where you’d been going, even with your wipers at full speed. And even though you had been driving slowly, your tire still had managed to get snagged against something sharp and you had gotten a flat.

With no roadside assistance, and a father who had insisted you learn how to change a tire when you first left to live on your own, you had gotten out of your car and went to work. But even in perfectly normal weather, it would have taken you a long time. You had only done it once with your dad and that had been probably like 6 years ago.

So, by the time you were done and finally home, you were completely drenched and in a bad fucking mood.

You quickly got out of your wet clothes once you got inside your apartment and you placed them in your dryer. The warm water from your shower almost felt like it was nagging you – Oh, now you want to get wet? Stupid fucking water.

Once you finally got around to feed Sergio, it was basically time for you to go to bed. But you saw the forum page that you now always left open on your computer, and two messages were waiting for you.

HalfBaked_T : Hey Hydra! :)

You were usually the one who would write first because he knew you had to get home before you could chat. He had written that about thirty minutes later than your normal starting time. Fuck. Your heart broke a little, imagining this faceless man waiting for you to come online.

And then the other message, written about an hour after the first one, just really made you feel even worse.

HalfBaked_T : You there?

You quickly started to type, hoping that he hadn’t logged off for the night.

HydratedCatMom : Hey T! Oh my god, I’m so sorry I’ve been MIA, I got a flat and I had to change it myself and it was pouring rain outside, it took me like 3 hours

You didn’t notice how your leg was bouncing and your hand went to twirl that piece of hair at the base of your neck. You were anxious. You didn’t want to lose your friend.

****

The book was in his hands. Opened, even. But he wasn’t reading it.

The uneasy feeling that had settled inside him when you hadn’t reached out first kept festering as you continued to not reply to him. He worried that maybe he had been too intense – he had even skimmed over your conversations of the past few days trying to see where he could have gone wrong before he had settled on reading to stop thinking about it.

“Fuckin' hell, man,” he said under his breath, giving up and closing his book. His head lolled back against the headrest of the chair, his eyes fixing on a pipe on the ceiling. Everyone thinks I’m too much.

But then, ping!

He sat up so quickly that he almost gave himself whiplash, the desk chair protesting under the speediness of his actions. He rolled toward the computer and as soon as he saw your message, he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

HydratedCatMom : Hey T! Oh my god, I’m so sorry I’ve been MIA, I got a flat and I had to change it myself and it was pouring rain outside, it took me like 3 hours

HalfBaked_T : Hey it’s okay! No worries

Play it cool, Teacake.

HalfBaked_T : It’s not like you have to talk to me haha

Stupid.

HalfBaked_T : Not that I don’t want you to!

HalfBaked_T : Jesus haha ok sorry

HalfBaked_T : I was just worried for a sec that you got tired of me rambling too much haha

Your heart unclenched as his replies came in. He’s not mad at me.

Sergio finally deemed you safe enough to approach as he jumped up in your lap. His tail brushed under your arm, and you gave him a few pets before you replied to the man you now referred to as ‘T’.

HydratedCatMom : No never. I felt so bad leaving you in the dark, I’m sorry!

HydratedCatMom : By the way, you keep saying stuff like that. Are you really that scared people will think you’re too much?

HalfBaked_T : Yeah, well they usually do

HalfBaked_T : In real life I mean

HydratedCatMom : Have people told you that before?

HalfBaked_T : Yup. All the time

And that’s all he wrote, like the topic being brought up was enough to make him self-conscious. You could almost feel him physically holding himself back from replying again.

HydratedCatMom : That’s mean :( Please don’t hold back with me, okay?

HalfBaked_T : Okay :)

HalfBaked_T : But don’t hesitate to tell me if I’m too much, I can take it I swear

HydratedCatMom : You’re not too much, T :)

HalfBaked_T : Well now I don’t know what to say lol

HalfBaked_T : But thank you Hydra :) means a lot

You went to bed not too long after, feeling exhausted from the whirlwind of emotions of the day. But even after everything, it was with a pleasant feeling in your chest that you found sleep. You were pretty sure you could call T your friend now. Jenna had been right, knowing someone’s real-life identity isn’t necessary. The thought made you smile.

At work, Travis was also smiling. Someone finally didn’t think that he was being too much. Granted, you had never talked to him in person, so you didn’t know what an unfiltered conversation with him truly looked like, but still. It had to count for something, right?

****

It was a week later – a week filled with sometimes insightful and sometimes boring conversation – when you noticed a new tiny red banner at the top of the site.

This forum will be shut down in 5 days, accompanied by an ominous countdown until then.

Your heart squeezed uncomfortably as you took in the news.

HydratedCatMom : Hey T! Are you seeing that banner?

HalfBaked_T : Yo Hydra! Yeah, I just saw that

HydratedCatMom : Damn haha

For a second, you weren’t sure how to feel. Chatting with someone online was supposed to be a way for you to break the ice of starting to meet new people. Surely, you had done that already, and you should be making plans to maybe join that pottery class you were thinking about. The forum was an experiment; it shouldn’t bother you that it was coming to an end. Nevertheless, you considered T to be your friend now. You didn’t want to lose that relationship just because this stupidly old website was now being shut down.

You had no clue how to voice that to him though. Did he see you as a friend? Would he think that it was weird that you were feeling attached to your friendship? You didn’t have much time to ask yourself all of those questions before he replied.

HalfBaked_T : I’m really bummed about that

HalfBaked_T : I kinda see you as a friend now, we’ve talked about so much stuff haha

HalfBaked_T : Sorry if that’s weird, I don’t know if you feel like that or not

HalfBaked_T : But yeah, don’t really wanna stop talking with you

A soft breath escaped your lips as they curved upward. The fact that he felt the same eased that pang of anxiety that had taken root inside your ribcage at the sight of that red warning.

HydratedCatMom : I feel the same, actually. I’m kinda glad you do too haha

HydratedCatMom : Maybe we could find a way to talk another way?

HalfBaked_T : Yeah!

HalfBaked_T : Don’t know how tho, they really push the whole anonymity thing

HalfBaked_T : Maybe we could find another forum?

You thought about his proposition and for some reason, it didn’t feel as satisfying as it should. It was an easy solution to your problem – find another forum, keep up the anonymity, keep chatting with your friend – Perfect.

So why was there that nagging feeling at the back of your brain?

HydratedCatMom : I mean, we definitely could. But I also just got an idea…

HalfBaked_T : Oh! Do tell :)

HydratedCatMom : Maybe it’s crazy and you can say no obviously

HydratedCatMom : Do you know Copperwood Park?

HalfBaked_T : Yeah, the one with the little ice cream shop?

HalfBaked_T : What about it?

HydratedCatMom : Yeah, that one :)

HydratedCatMom : Is it like totally crazy if I leave a paper with my number tucked somewhere and you could go get it?

The minutes ticked by with no reply from T.

Sergio was ogling you with concern from his perch on the windowsill as you started picking at the skin of your fingers – a regulating habit that you never quite shook off in moments of pressure.

You were halfway convinced that your proposition had scared him off into oblivion, and that he was not going to reply to you again, but then you heard the satisfying ping come in.

HalfBaked_T : Woah, kinda like those new escape rooms they got now

HalfBaked_T : I think they lock you in a cage and you’re like supposed to solve a puzzle or something just to get out

HalfBaked_T : Oh and they have all those horror-themed ones that look cool, you know?

You giggled softly as you read his oncoming messages, your hand lowering from the previous assault of your teeth on the raw skin.

HalfBaked_T : Anyway, I digress

HalfBaked_T : And sorry for the long reply btw, had a client come in which doesn’t happen often this time of night

HalfBaked_T : But, yeah. I’m down if you’re down :)

HydratedCatMom : Awesome! Do you know that green bench by the stream?

HalfBaked_T : Yeah! Smoked my first… “bad” cig there haha

You laughed at that, understanding the innuendo for ‘joint’ easily. You had noticed that T sometimes seemed to filter himself and his language, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the ‘respect’ rules of the forum or if he was just like that.

HydratedCatMom : lol

HydratedCatMom : I’ll leave it under it like tucked somewhere. On my way to work tomorrow?

HalfBaked_T : Sounds good :) I’ll pick it up on my way to work as well

HalfBaked_T : You sure you’re okay with that?

HydratedCatMom : To be honest, I am a little nervous, but I feel like we’re friends so yeah. I’m sure :)

HalfBaked_T : Of course we’re friends :)

****

Your hands shook gently as you gripped the paper, your feet carrying you toward the green wooden bench next to the little stream meandering through Copperwood park. The slightly nipping cold of the early morning wasn’t to blame for your trembling, though.

Your mind was racing. Were you really about to do this? Anyone could stumble upon it and text you. Was this completely stupid?

However, as the long seat took more and more real estate in your field of vision, you pushed it all down. You repeated to yourself like a mantra that you were going to be okay, and that you really wanted to keep talking with T in an easier manner. This was the solution for that.

You safely tucked the white piece of paper under the bench – in a little crevice in the wood that looked like it was made exactly for that – and then you left to go to work. A soft buzzing sensation accompanied you inside your chest for the rest of the day, but you decided to perceive it as excitement instead of anxiety.

****

The soft and calming voice of the woman narrating the self-help podcast abruptly cut off as Travis turned the key in the ignition. “Alright, let’s see this,” he said to himself, unwilling to feel too hopeful in case you hadn’t actually left your number.

His hands were buried inside of his work vest’s pockets as he walked from the small parking lot to the lonely green bench. After sitting down and fumbling around, he laughed softly to himself as he found the paper. He unfolded it and read the little note that accompanied your number.

Hey, T! This it it :)

A soft smile spread on his face at the sight of your handwriting. It was a little more crooked than what he was expecting, for some reason, but that made him feel more at ease with the whole situation. It made it more real.

He created a new contact in his phone named ‘Hydra’ before tucking the piece of paper safely in his pocket. He shot you a quick text as he made his way back to his car.

****

It was nearing the end of your shift – your feet were killing you and you were tired. You almost didn’t feel the buzz against your behind over the faint thrum of excitement that had followed you all day, even if it was dampening slightly now because of your sleepy state.

You pulled out your phone and saw a new message from an unknown number. The thrumming immediately crested and morphed into anxious fire as you opened it.

Unknown number : Hey Hydra, it’s T :) from the forum haha

You smiled brightly at your phone. If anyone had seen you then, they would have thought that you were getting the best news of your life.

Hydra : Hey! It worked! You should actually give those escape rooms a try haha ;)

You quickly changed the contact info to ‘T’, but seeing the ‘name’ box of your contacts app did rekindle that curiosity inside of you to know who you were really talking to.

T : Lol maybe I should, yeah

T : Would be kinda hard on my own though

It didn’t take long for you both to fall back into what had become so familiar until then. The only difference was that since you could just text normally without going through the forum, you didn’t limit your conversations to strictly at night while he’s at work and you’re about to go to bed.

Even though you had different life schedules, there was still a good eight hours where you were both awake at the same time, and it was often spent texting each other about everything and anything.

T : Saw a cat on my way to work

T : it was all black and white, super adorable and shit

T : (Attached picture)

T : Does it look like Sergio?

Hydra : omg it is cute! Yeah, kinda! But Sergio’s a little fatter

Hydra : (Attached picture)

Hydra : Didn’t realize I could finally show him to you :)

T : What a king haha

One night, you came back from work, you did your whole routine, and before you knew it, you were sprawled out on your bed, a glass of red wine resting on your nightstand. You picked up your latest read – a sort of sci-fi romance that had seemed cringe at first but then had quickly reeled you in and made you obsessed.

As for Travis, he had just woken up, a bit later than usual because it was his day off. He was resting on his back, staring at the ceiling, one arm tucked under his head as his other hand scratched lazily over his stomach. He was wearing a gray cotton shirt and sweatpants – his bedsheets tangled around his legs.

Without really thinking, he picked up his phone.

T : Hey :)

The gentle buzz on your pillow pulled you out of your imagination, a soft smile spreading over your lips as you put down your book.

Hydra : Hiya!

Hydra : It’s your day off, right?

T : Hell yeah it is

T : Already kinda bored though haha

T : That has to be a record, I’ve been awake for like 10 minutes

Hydra : And there’s nothing you wanna do?

T : Not really.

T : Don’t know what book I should read

T : Don’t wanna watch TV

T : Don’t really even wanna go to the gym

T : Kinda just wanna talk I guess

An amused snort escaped you, because of course. You knew how much he could go on and on, talking the ears off whoever was willing to listen. You felt like talking – or in your experience with him, texting – was a way for him to regulate himself, and you were more than happy to see him not filtering himself with you. So really, you didn’t mind all the double texting if it meant he could be himself.

Hydra : Well I’m not really sleepy yet, so go for it :)

T : Can I call you?

Your breath hitched. That was a line that you had never crossed. And even though you now both knew more personal things about each other – like how you were pretty close in age and on which side of town you lived – you had never actually spoken to one another, and you were still staying anonymous.

But it wasn’t like you didn’t want to. You really liked T as a friend – he made you feel listened to, he remembered things, he was funny… You were just really scared of having no security net while talking to him. Via chatting or texting, you could think about what you were going to say. You could replay and loop your replies in your head, type them out a few different ways before settling on the one that was a good compromise between being safe but also still sounding like you.

Whereas out loud, on a call, you couldn’t do that. If you didn’t know what to say, you had to stew in the silence and try to come up with something on the fly. And if you said something that came out wrong, you couldn’t just erase it and try again.

As if sensing your hesitation – probably because of how long he waited for your reply with no sign of life – he texted again.

T : We don’t have to, no pressure

T : Just sometimes I feel like texting is limiting, yk?

T : Like there’s so many things happening up there I wish I could write it all out but it’d be way too long lol

T : Anyway, forget I asked if it made you uncomfortable or nervous. I understand, I’m sorry

His words were like a soft blanket being deposited over your shoulders, making you feel more at ease now that you saw how he wasn’t pushing for it. After all, it was just T. And you’d be kidding yourself if you didn’t admit that you had been wondering what he sounded like.

You took a deep breath, your thumbs slightly clumsy as you typed back.

Hydra : Don’t be sorry! I’m a bit nervous, but yeah, you can call me if you want :)

T : Are you sure? I really don’t mind if you don’t want to

Hydra : No no, I want to, T

T : Ok :)

It took maybe fifteen seconds before your phone started vibrating rhythmically – bzz… bzz… bzz… You stared at it as the letter ‘T’ flashed on the screen. You swallowed thickly, letting out a breath and closing your eyes before you answered.

“H-…Hello?”

“Oh hi! Damn…” He let out a soft incredulous laugh. The sound of it made the tension in your body loosen gently.

He kept talking. “It’s ‘T’, by the way. In case you were expectin’ someone else to call or somethin’. And actually, now that I say it out loud, I don’t usually go by ‘T’, so you can call me Teacake.”

You giggled at the nickname. “’Teacake’? Like, is that your real name or a nickname?”

Being able to hear you for the first time hit Travis all at once. Oh, she has a nice voice, he thought to himself.

“No, yeah. I mean, s’what my friends call me. My real name’s Travis, but no one really calls me that. But I guess you can if you want to, I mean you do whatever’s good for you, y’know?”

Hearing him talk brought a smile to your face. He was talkative, like you had pictured he would be, but his voice was deeper than what you expected. He had an interesting drawl that you couldn’t quite pinpoint, too. It settled in somewhere inside you, maybe a little deeper than it should have, and it almost felt comforting.

“Travis… that’s a nice name,” You offered softly, deciding that would probably be what you’d prefer to use for him.

“Uh, thanks! What’s your real name?” He sat up in his bed and scratched his jaw. “Only if you wanna tell me, of course. I can keep callin’ you Hydra, no problem.”

You chuckled and before you even had time to think twice about it, you offered him your name. Maybe he was rubbing off on you.

He said it once, as if practicing how it fit inside his well-oiled mouth. “Mm, I like it. Suits you. Y’know, there was this girl I knew in middle school with that name. I think she was into horses. Used to run around the school yard pretendin’ she was one and stuff.”

You turned on your belly, a faint smile on your lips as you listened to him. “Were you friends with her?”

He settled back against the headboard of his bed, one hand coming up to absent-mindedly brush through his bleached lengths. “Nah. Kids used to make fun of her. I didn’t though. Always thought it was kinda cool that she just did what she liked. I dunno.” He frowned a bit and cleared his throat. “I don’t even know why I’m tellin’ you all that, sorry.”

You giggled softly. “Hey, Travis. You know you don’t have to apologize with me, right?” Your voice was gentle, filled with a care he rarely heard from other people.

“Y-yeah, yeah. S’just sometimes I go on tangents, and I realize only after and I worry people’ll get bored.”

You hummed in understanding. You had talked many times before about how it was a constant in his life, being told he talked too much and how he should learn to shut it once in a while. “I know. But I don’t think you’re boring.”

Travis smiled, a soft breath escaping his lips, the sound making its way to you through the phone.

It took a second, but you mustered up some courage and spoke again. “We make a good team, right? You talk, I listen.”

The joke was a safe one – a little running gag you both had developed while texting each other – but it still made you nervous.

Travis chuckled, and the sound felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. “Yeah, y’right about that. I uh- really appreciate you acceptin’ this, by the way. Callin’, I mean.”

“Yeah, well… I was pretty nervous but I’m okay now. I wanted to speak with you for real as well, just didn’t think I’d ever be ready.” The slight shyness in your tone made Travis’ expression soften.

“Well, look at you gettin’ out of your comfort zone.” The way his voice got slightly lower and laced with praise made the tip of your ears grow pink. “I know that’s hard for you, so… is it weird to say I’m proud? Feel like I know you pretty well but since it’s our first time talkin’ and all –“

The conversation kept going after that like it always did via text. Travis was doing most of the conversational heavy lifting – not that it bothered him or you – as he found new subjects to talk about and dove headfirst into them. What struck you amongst all of it was that even though he was quite vocal, he was also incredibly attentive. He always asked you what you were thinking, how you felt about certain things. He listened closely when you were speaking, hummed in understanding, asked clarifying questions when he needed to. He wasn’t merely waiting for you to stop talking just so he could keep going – which is something you had experienced in the past on bad dates – so it felt nice. He also remembered things you had said. It made you feel like you mattered, and the warmth spreading in your chest the more and more that first conversation trotted along had nothing to do with lingering anxiety and everything to do with simmering affection.

“…and I think that’s why butterflies spook me a little.” You caught a glimpse of your alarm clock through your now empty glass of wine – the display showing that it was well past midnight. You gasped softly just as Travis finished his sentence.

“You okay?” the concern in his voice made you chuckle.

“Y-yeah! I just didn’t realize what time it was. I should probably head to bed. Work tomorrow, y’know?” Your cheeks tinted crimson as you realized that you just spent around three hours talking to a man and that you hadn’t felt bored once.

Travis nodded to himself, his hand scratching his jaw as he felt slightly guilty for keeping you awake for so long. “Yeah, of course! You should go to bed. I’m sorry for keepin’ you up.”

“Stop apologizing, Travis. I… really enjoyed it.” The lilt in your voice betrayed your smile, and it made the corners of Travis’ lips twitch as well.

“Ah. Sorry. I mean, fuck! O-okay.” His whole face scrunched and he laughed softly. “I enjoyed it too. A lot.”

The hard enamel of your teeth pinched the inside of your cheek before you spoke. “Feel free to call me whenever, ‘kay?”

“Yeah, alright. I will. Goodnight,” he said as your name tumbled out of his lips like he had been saying it forever, even though he had just learned it three hours ago.

“Have a good day, Travis.”

As you hung up the call, you couldn’t shake the grin on your face. I have a friend, and I like talking to him, and it’s going well. But there was also an annoying little flutter deep in your belly. His voice had settled somewhere inside you, a place that hadn’t been reached in a long time. You didn’t think about it too much though, the exhaustion from the stress and excitement of talking to Travis for the first time catching up to you.

As for Travis, his off day was spent doing some laundry and going to the gym. And thinking about you entirely too much.

****

It took a couple of days before Travis dared to call you again, not wanting to be too much too quickly even though you had assured him time and time again that he would never be. And after that? It became routine once more, like it always so effortlessly did with him.

There was something special about the link between the both of you. However you chose to communicate, you made space for it in your lives almost seamlessly, like you had both been waiting to be rearranged just for this.

He called you when he got into work and you were just getting home. You called him when you were waking up and you knew he was done with work. It simply fit, even though you were on totally different schedules.

And the more and more you called each other, the more and more you started getting that fluttery feeling deep inside. It was almost reminiscent of your anxiety – the way it buzzed below your skin, occupied your thoughts and made you feel restless. But this feeling, you craved it. You didn’t want to push it away, you wanted to lean into it. You hadn’t felt this way in a long time, and the fact that you could still experiment it after you thought it wasn’t for you anymore, it was reassuring, in a way.

But as that sentiment grew fiercer, it did make you start to worry. Travis was your friend. The first one you had made in a long time. And you liked him. A lot. The last thing you wanted was to lose him because of your growing feelings for him. What if he doesn’t feel the same? I mean, he doesn’t even know what I look like. What if I’m not his type?

No, you couldn’t risk it.

So you settled for the next best thing. Calling him and answering when he called you. Talking about nonsense. Laughing. Just so you were able to get a little part of him – the most you could get.

It was about 11PM on a Wednesday evening when you got a voice message from him. You had texted him an hour earlier a question about a book he had told you he was reading that you were interested in.

Sitting on your bed with Sergio next to you, you pressed play on the several-minutes-long audio.

Oh god.

“Uh, hey! Just saw your question.” The sound of him panting. “Sorry, was at the gym. On my way home now. So, basically, it’s this guy who…”

The problem wasn’t the information he was giving you. If you could have paid attention to it, you would have found that he was being surprisingly helpful and explaining the plot of the book quite well without divulging any meaningful spoilers.

But you couldn’t pay attention to any of that.

Travis sounded out of breath, like he had just gotten off the treadmill a second before recording the message because he couldn’t wait any longer. It made his voice slightly rougher, and he kept huffing and puffing. He let out little oh god’s as he tried to catch his breath between sentences.

You immediately felt like you were burning up from the inside – intrusive images of what the faceless man could have been doing to make him sound just like that popping up in your mind.

You shook your head halfway through the message and restarted it from the top, trying to focus on what he was saying instead of on how hot he sounded saying it.

When you finished the message, you quickly shot him a thank you text for his explanation and told him to have a good day off because you were going to bed.

But as you turned off the light on your nightstand, your mind got plagued. You couldn’t stop thinking about how he had sounded, how it had ignited something in you. Liquid heat pooled low in your belly, almost making you writhe as you tossed and turned.

“Get a grip,” you told yourself. It didn’t feel appropriate to give in and touch yourself to the sound of your friend’s voice when what he had done wasn’t even sexual in anyway. You were not that much of a pervert.

****

Except you were, apparently.

Because the next night, while he was on the phone with you, doing his rounds at work, bending over to check the locks on the storage units and letting out huffs and grunts? The heat built back up way too quickly.

You couldn’t fight it anymore, and you thought you could be discreet enough about it. You put your phone on mute as he kept rambling, just so he didn’t hear you shuffle around while you took off your pajama pants and underwear. You winced at how wet you were once you made contact with your heated core, drawing slow circles over your clit.

“…oh, I was wonderin’ actually if you like bananas?” Travis asked, completely unaware of whatever was happening. When he didn’t get an answer, he said your name with a confused tone, looking at his phone to check if the call was still going. “You there?”

Your phone fell on your mattress as you scrambled for it. When you finally managed to grasp it and unmute yourself, you sounded flustered. “Y-yeah! I’m here, sorry. What was that?”

Travis paused next to a unit, his brows furrowing at the slightly breathless quality to your voice. “I asked if you like bananas. Are you okay? You sound… weird.”

You let out a nervous chuckle, your hand instinctively going back to between your legs but staying still. “I’m totally fine. Um, yeah. I like bananas.” You cleared your throat.

He tilted his head, unconvinced, as he leaned against the cold metal wall. “You sound… breathless and shit. You sure? Were you havin’ a panic attack or somethin’?”

The concern in his voice made you close your eyes and let out a long breath through your nose. God, he’s so sweet. He was very aware of your struggles and that attentiveness did not help how you felt for him. “No, Travis. I promise. Just… don’t mind it, okay? You can keep going. Why did you wanna know if I like bananas?”

He still didn’t fully believe you, but it seemed to satisfy him enough as he started walking and talking again. “Okay, well. I wanted to know because there’s this bakery on Sixth Street that has this insane banana bread with chocolate chips in it. I passed it last time I was comin’ back from the gym and basically undid all the work I had just done but…”

As he resumed his rambling, you started touching yourself again. You knew how ashamed you would feel after, but in the moment, all you could think about was Travis and how he sounded when he bent down and when he talked to you.

You stayed quiet, your eyes rolling back in pleasure when you changed the rhythm slightly on your swollen clit. You answered him when he asked questions, trying to sound normal, and for a while it worked.

At one point though, he had been talking on his own for so long that you forgot you weren’t on mute. Your fingers dipped lower and pressed inside yourself, your generous slick making it easy. A very soft “oh fuck” left your lips, but it was loud enough for Travis to pick it up on his end, making him stop dead in his tracks.

His mind was reeling. You didn’t sound like you were in pain. You didn’t sound like you were panicking. He stayed silent, his phone pressed to his ear as his breathing grew ragged.

The couple seconds it took for you to even register that he had stopped talking were enough for you to let a whimper slip out of your lips as you fucked yourself with your fingers.

Travis felt his cock twitch at the sound, his eyes round as pennies from confusion, surprise and arousal. He whispered your name – like a question he wasn’t sure he even had the right to ask – and everything finally clicked inside your hazy brain. Your fingers stopped. Your phone lowered from your ear as you saw the mute button. Unengaged. Fuck.

You didn’t say anything, your cheeks burning from embarrassment and shame. The way your mind had been glazed over with desire mere seconds before felt incredibly distant as the reality of the situation came crashing around you. Before you could even begin to form a thought, you hung up the call.

As you sat up in your bed, your hands started to shake. The room felt smaller and bigger at the same time. Your point of view was sinking further back in your mind as you started to feel far away from your body. Panic was sinking its sticky claws in your ribs.

What the fuck were you thinking? He heard you. You stupid, dumb – ugh! You probably just lost the only friend you were able to make.

The relentless buzzing of your phone managed to get you back in the present moment for a second, ‘Travis’ flashing on the screen in an almost taunting manner.

You considered declining the call and never speaking to him again. But then, that would be losing him and his friendship without even fighting for it. Maybe you could make it seem like what had just happened wasn’t what it so obviously was.

You took a deep breath and answered the call – courageous in a way you probably wouldn’t have been a year ago during the worst of your struggles.

“Oh my God, Trav! I’m so sorry, Sergio got spooked and he ran into my phone and I dropped it, and then I accidentally ended the call when I picked it up from under the bed, and –“

“Hey, hey… Calm down.” His voice sounded a little rough, but achingly gentle as he recognized the panicked tone in your own and reacted accordingly. “Breathe. In and out. Everythin’s ok.”

You were frozen on your bed. Why was he being nice? But before you could ask yourself more questions, your body started obeying his soft commands. Your ribcage swelled up slowly, so did your belly, before you let it all out through your mouth.

“There you go. You’re okay. Just keep breathin’, yeah?”

“Y-yeah. Sorry, Travis.”

You couldn’t see him, but he shook his head as he dropped to the ground from where he was leaning against the wall. “Don’t apologize. Are you okay?”

You swallowed thickly – your mouth dry as dust from the panic attack that Travis was helping you quash. “Yeah, s’just… I don’t know. Got scared.” Your voice sounded small and it tugged at his heartstrings.

He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. The way your voice had sounded and the little whimper you had let out before you hung up had definitely cued Travis to what had been happening on your end of the call. He might have been clueless most of the time, but he wasn’t dumb. But he didn’t want to assume, and he felt like if it was what he thought it was, it probably wasn’t because of him. He had just happened to hear you. So, if you didn’t want to talk about it, then he would respect that, and the least he could do was comfort you.

He kept his voice soft. “Scared of what?”

You closed your eyes and let out a breath through your nose. “Messing up?”

“Messin’ what up?”

“This. Our friendship.” The admission tasted raw as it rolled off your tongue, your face scrunching up.

He let out a soft chuckle, almost as if what you’d said was the most outlandish idea he ever heard. He spoke your name gently. “You can’t mess this up, okay? M’not going anywhere. You’re like, such a good friend. Probably my best friend at this point, if I’m bein’ honest. You’re all good.”

His words washed over you like a warm shower soothing away your insecurity. “T-Thank you, Trav. Pretty sure you’re my best friend too.” A nervous little giggle escaped you, and he grinned at the sound.

You stayed on the phone for a few more minutes before he said goodnight and you wished him a good shift. Your heart felt full – not only had he managed to bring you down from a panic attack, he also had reassured you and not made you feel guilty for what you had done. And you were pretty sure that he had understood what had happened. What a man.

****

Maybe about a few weeks after the incident, Travis noticed something was off. Your replies were shorter and your tone was drier than usual.

You were on the phone with him one night while he was doing laundry – on his day off again – when Sergio managed to successfully launch a glass full of water off your kitchen counter after swatting at it for a couple minutes. Instead of laughing like you’d usually do, you groaned harshly and yelled a “Sergio!”

“Stupid cat, oh my god. Hang on, Trav.”

He could hear how frustrated you sounded while you cleaned the mess, leaving your phone on speaker on the counter. Once you were done, you shot a pointed look at Sergio and went into your room, shutting the door behind you as you fell back on your bed. You sighed loudly.

Travis spoke warily. “Hey, um… are you like, good?”

You scrunched your face in offense. “What? Course I’m good. Sergio’s just being a fucking idiot.”

“Yeah, yeah. I get that. But I’ve never heard you react like that to him. You usually just laugh. And you’ve kinda been short with me for the past few days. Not that I’m judgin’ or anythin’. M’just wonderin’ if there’s something goin’ on, y’know?” He sounded almost scared of your reaction to his observation, and you hated that you were making him feel that way.

The truth was that you knew exactly why you were being like that. You were pent up. Sexually. As embarrassing as it was to admit that. After that call where he had basically caught you, even if he hadn’t brought it up, you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t do it again. It wasn’t fair to him.

But Jesus, his voice still turned you on so fucking much. It was getting unbearable. You laid awake at night, replaying his voice in your head while refusing to give in to the urge to touch yourself, not wanting to be disrespectful.

It was wearing you down. But you couldn’t tell him that.

You let out a soft breath, willing your voice to be gentle. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me lately.”

The fact that you hadn’t scolded him for asking gave him more courage. “Come on. You must have a clue. You can tell me.”

You sighed, closing your eyes and raking a hand through your hair. “I’m just… pent up.”

“Pent up? What does that mean?”

You almost whimpered at having to explain it further than that. “Like… sexually? Frustrated? Ugh, this is humiliating.” You covered your face with your hand, feeling your cheeks turn bright red.

“Oh,” Travis simply said, feeling bad for pushing. But just as quickly, his brain kicked into solution-mode. “Well is there anythin’ you can do for that? Like touch yourself or somethin’?”

You groaned and he kept going. His voice sounded like a whisper as he asked himself, “what do I do when I feel like that?”, before he spoke more clearly. “Like, you could find a nice little video of somethin’ you like and just watch that and do it? I like-”

“Travis.” You sounded stern and he shut up at your tone. “I… tried and it’s not really working.”

He blinked rapidly, picking up his phone and taking it off speaker as he retreated back from his laundry to go to his room and sit on the edge of his bed. “Does it usually?”

You let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Yeah. Or sometimes I prefer reading about… sexual stuff. But I keep thinking about –“ You cut yourself off with a shake of your head. “Nevermind.”

“No, tell me. Promise I’m not judgin’.” He sounded so considerate.

“It’s complicated, Trav.” You didn’t know how much you could say without revealing too much. “Every time I try to, I keep thinking about this one person and I feel guilty because they don’t know and it isn’t fair to them.”

He tried to ignore the pang of jealousy he felt as he kept his tone soft. She doesn’t need that right now. “You mean, you think about them sexually and they don’t know that you do?”

You were basically writhing over the covers of your bed, cringing at the conversation. “Yeah. I feel like a pervert.” You let out a humorless chuckle.

The corner of his mouth pulled up in sympathy. “Mm. Well, if it’s any consolation, I don’t think that makes you a pervert or whatever. Attraction’s normal. S’okay to be attracted to people. And you’re single. I don’t think it’d necessarily be a bad thing to pleasure yourself while thinkin’ ‘bout them.”

You couldn’t stop the simultaneously relieved and surprised breath you let out at Travis basically giving you his blessing. “Y-you think so?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’ve definitely done that before. If what happens in your brain stays there, it’s not really a problem, is it?” Then he thought about it even more. “Actually, if you think the other person’s also into you, they might even find that hot.”

You felt a flush travel from your neck to the rest of your body – the now familiar arousal associated with Travis flaring up inside you. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said simply.

“Would you?” The question left your mouth too quickly, and you froze. Before you could save face, he started talking.

“You mean like if I learned you touched yourself to me?” He let out a timid chuckle.

You were mortified. “No, I mean-“

But he cut you off, too busy nervously rambling now. “Cause, yeah I’d find that hot. I mean, I like you a lot obviously and I guess it’d be flatterin’ and all-“

“Trav.” You tried to stop him.

“…Honestly, I’d be kinda relieved ‘cause I’ve also been thinkin' 'bout you in ways maybe I shouldn’t have. But uh-“

“Travis.” You said louder, and he actually stopped talking. You could hear how his breathing got slightly faster as he realized what he had said. “I didn’t mean me specifically, but… I guess I still got my answer.” You let out a nervous chuckle as your thighs pressed together on your bed, the reality of Travis reciprocating how you felt making your whole body feel hot. Strangely, it also made you relax, the guilt starting to lessen.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. Holy shit, I didn’t mean – oh God.” He took a deep breath, his heart beating wildly like it wanted to rip out of his chest and hide under his bed. “Just… forget I said anythin'. That was creepy, I don’t know why I said all that. Stupid mouth-“

“Travis, Stop.” You smiled at his nervous recovery attempt. “It’s fine. You’re not stupid.”

He let himself fall on his back as he buried a hand in his hair. “I feel awful.”

You giggled softly. “Don’t, really. I… get it.”

His brows furrowed and his mouth turned into that little frown he gets when he’s confused. “You get it?”

“Yeah.”

“What do you mean ‘you get it’?”

You bit the inside of your cheek before you decided to just go for it. “I was talking about you.”

He frowned even more. “Okay. Now I don’t get it.”

You let out a nervous huff. “God, Trav. Earlier. The person I was thinking about.”

He simply nodded, even though absolutely no wires were touching in his brain. “What about ‘em?”

“I was talking about you! I keep thinking about you!” You said, a little frustrated from having to so plainly explain it to him. You closed your eyes forcefully, holding your breath.

“Oh.” The wires finally touched. His eyes went wide and his mouth formed an ‘o’ shape.

The silence was deafening as you uncomfortably shifted on your bed. After a few moments, you spoke, unable to tolerate it anymore. “Now is not the time for you to shut up.” But the joke landed flat. “Please. Say something.”

He let out a breath before speaking. “I… guess I wasn’t wrong.”

Now it was your turn to frown in confusion. “What?”

“I do find it hot,” he said, his voice dipping into that lower register that seemed to throw accelerant on the fire burning between your legs.

“Travis.” Your breathing grew ragged.

“And I kinda wanna hear you talk about it more.” His own breathing wasn’t normal either. His hand twitched from its resting place on the soft give of his stomach.

A breathless laugh escaped you. “I… can’t,” you said shyly as you felt a heated blush travel all over your skin.

“Because you don’t want to, or because you’re scared?”

“I’m scared.”

“Why?”

“You’re my friend and what if it’s weird-“

“Angel.”

Fuck, that wasn’t fair. The way the nickname fell so easily from his lips did things to you that were highly inconvenient and that did not help how hot and extremely bothered you felt.

He spoke again, softer. “You don’t have to, ‘kay? I just want you to be comfortable. But you’ve been a little off lately and you said how frustrated you felt and I just think that maybe it could help you, no?”

“Yeah, I guess.” You laughed a bit awkwardly. “Jeez, I feel like we’re back on that self-help forum helping each other out with our struggles, ‘cept this is way different.”

He chuckled with you. “Let me help, then.”

He sounded so soft and caring and entirely like him that you gave in. You repositioned yourself on your pillows, getting a bit more comfortable, as he pushed himself up to rest back against his headboard. I’ll just talk about it, no big deal, you told yourself.

“It uh… started when you sent me a voice message and you were getting out of the gym, so you were like huffing and puffing? And I realized that I liked how your voice sounded. I don’t know, is that weird?” You laughed, simultaneously embarrassed and relieved to finally be admitting it.

He grinned at the sound of your laughter. “Nah, not weird. And how did it make you feel?”

You swallowed thickly, thinking back to that night. You could feel your arousal pooling in your underwear at the thought of him all sweaty and strong and panting. You didn’t even know what he looked like and he had that effect on you. “Just… hot. All over. And… turned on.”

“Mm… yeah?” He could feel his cock chubbing up in his sweatpants. “And now, when you get in the mood… you can’t stop thinkin’ about that?”

Your hand found your bare thigh past the hem of your sleep shorts. “Yeah.”

He hummed, a sound that coaxed your legs to fall slightly open. “So you like the sound of my voice?” Even with how soft and – let’s face it – sexy he was being, the question came out a little disbelieving, like he couldn’t fathom that, for once, maybe someone actually found his talking attractive and not annoying.

You nodded before realizing he couldn’t see you. “Yeah, Trav. I do.”

“Shit, that’s… hot. Damn. Um… what do you think about?”

You whimpered slightly at the question, your hand cupping your still clothed core. You wanted to tell him all the dirty thoughts you had been having, but everything got stuck in your throat. “Um, I don’t know if I can say it.”

“W-want me to keep talkin’? I can say things I’m thinkin' about and if you like ‘em or not you tell me. How does that sound?” He asked gently, but noticeably getting breathless.

“Yeah, sounds good. Please.”

“Huh- fuck. Okay.” His fingers splayed on his belly as the very tip of them touched the waistband of his sweats. “How about… that I’m thinkin' about being over there right now?”

You let out a soft sigh, your eyes closing as you rolled your hips gently against your hand. “Mhm.”

He bit his bottom lip before continuing. “Maybe we would have gone out to dinner, or to watch a nice movie, and you’d have invited me back up to your place. I’d watch you as you’d lead me toward your room.”

The way he started narrating this like it wasn’t just sex but like it was the end of a successful date gave you butterflies. You smiled and let out a soft huff. “You’re so fucking cute.”

He chuckled a bit. “Let me get there. I’m paintin’ the scene, Angel,” He playfully reprimanded before continuing. “So, as I was sayin’ before someone interrupted me, I’d follow you inside your room while I was holdin’ your hand. I’d probably say ‘hi’ to Sergio on the way there.”

You giggled and it made him grin like an idiot.

“We’d close the door and I’d step really close to you, pressin’ you back against it.”

You sighed once more, your thighs pressing together as your hand started applying more pressure on your core. “Would you kiss me?”

Travis let out a shuddering breath as his hand grazed over his tented crotch. “Of course I would. S’all I can think about… I wanna know what you taste like. Your lips. Your skin. I’d trail down your neck while I’d touch you everywhere.”

“Fuck, Trav.” You gasped, your hands quickly hooking in the waistband of your shorts to take them off.

“Too much?” He asked, worried.

“N-no. Keep going, please.” You reassured, your hand finding the wet patch over your pussy.

“O-okay. I’d… take off your clothes slowly, lookin’ at you after every item fell off. I’d lay you down on your bed and I’d cover your body with mine.”

He didn’t even know what you looked like, but still, he had fantasized about it more times than he could count. He had imagined different body types, different colors and textures, and it always worked for him as long as it was your sweet voice that went with it.

He started putting pressure on his painfully hard cock, his mind still disbelieving that he was doing this, talking dirty to you, and that you were enjoying it. “I’d probably kiss you for way too long, grindin’ against you, before I’d… go down on you. Fuck, Angel. Please, tell me you’d let me taste you.”

You moaned as you finally plunged your hand beneath your panties and made contact with your swollen and slick pussy, your fingers expertly circling your clit just the way you like. “F-fuck, yes. You could… taste me, Trav.”

The groan that left his mouth let you hear just how turned on and desperate he felt. “O-oh God. Are you… touchin' yourself right now?”

“Mhmm…” You whined pathetically.

“Talk to me, baby. Tell me how it feels. Need to hear you right now.” His hand was now fully wrapped around the base of his thick cock, his sweatpants lowered just enough down his thighs to give him access.

His voice was steady, but you could tell he felt a bit insecure. It made you want to show him he was doing a good job.

You spoke through moans and soft whines as you started to circle your entrance, gathering your arousal on your fingers. “I’m… so wet, Travis. You’re… making me like this.”

He moaned in response, his hand starting to messily stroke up and down his shaft, smearing the precum collecting at the head and making it slick. “Holy shit. That’s… so fuckin’ hot. Oh my god. This is crazy. I… really wish I could taste you right now. Bet you taste so fuckin’ sweet, I just wanna bury my face between your legs and stay there while you pull on my hair, beggin’ me not to stop as you come on my tongue.”

The mental image he just conjured in your mind made your eyes roll back as you fucked yourself with your fingers, your other hand joining the fun by starting to stimulate your clit after you had put the phone on speaker to lay it down on your chest. “Oh, baby…” You whined. “I’d wanna… taste you too. Maybe I could, uh… ride your face while I – uh… fuck.“ You cut yourself off before you could say how much you wanted to suck him off, feeling embarrassed, even though you were practically having phone sex with him.

His hips bucked up, fucking his fist as he kept stroking it because of how stupidly horny you were making him. “Jesus, yes. Fuck, Angel, I wouldn’t last. I’m so fuckin’ close right now.”

“Me too, s-so close. Travis.” You moaned his name in bliss as the knot that was steadily building in your belly was starting to crest. You could feel how desperately your body – and your mind – needed the release, your legs twitching and shaking.

“Come on, babe. Give it to me. Come for me, wanna hear you fall apart. Please, Angel.” He was babbling – almost incoherent – his own edge starting to give way under his feet, ready to fall as soon as you did.

“I’m… com-“ The coil finally snapped in a wave of liquid pleasure – or it might have been more accurate to describe it as a tsunami – the intensity of it something you had never experienced before. It crashed through the weeks of tension and need that had accumulated in your limbs, loosening everything up as it ebbed and flowed. You didn’t even realize how loudly you had moaned Travis’ name until the sounds of his own moans and your name on his lips reached your ears through the phone.

“That’s it – oh my God, you’re so fuckin’ hot. I’m right there with you, fuuuuck.” He spilled all over his hand, some of his spend coating the coarse hair at the base of his cock and the softer ones of his happy trail. He kept stroking himself lazily even after his orgasm stopped, enjoying the sensitiveness.

You both stayed silent for a little while after, listening to each other’s breathing through the call. Honestly, you didn’t know what to say after getting the most world-shattering orgasm of your life from having phone sex. With a still faceless guy. That you didn’t even know worked where.

“Um…” You started, slightly awkward but determined to not let things get weird. “T-thank you for that. T’was… really good.” A soft laugh escaped you.

He chuckled with you as he finished cleaning himself up with tissues before throwing them in the trash. “Don’t thank me. It was… I mean, I profited from it too, obviously. Jesus…” He buried his hand in his hair as he laid back against his headboard. “You sounded so good. And I’m sober so I was like, really aware of it, and I could pay attention to it, and fuck…” his cock twitched again inside the reinstalled prison of his sweatpants as he thought about how you had sounded a few minutes earlier.

You pulled your fluffy blanket over yourself to hide your cooling skin. You laughed softly at how out of pocket the ‘sober’ comment felt. “Of course you’re sober. You’ve woken up like 2 hours ago.”

He chuckled but it was slightly strained. “No, I know. S’just… I’ve never actually, like… had sex while sober before. Not that I think we just had sex together or anythin’! But it was kind of the closest I’ve been to an actual sober sexual experience. I know it’s kinda weird, but uh… yeah. Thank you for that.”

Your arms started to feel like jelly at his quiet confession, and in that moment, it felt like he was handing you a part of him so fragile that all you wanted to do was to cradle him inside the palm of your hand and protect him at all costs. “Oh, I didn’t know that Trav. And I mean, phone sex is like, a thing. Which is what we did. I think. But we can not call it that if it makes you uncomfortable. Anyway, thanks for trusting me with that.”

He hummed before speaking. “R-right, phone sex. That’s what it was.” He wanted so much to see you in the afterglow of it all, especially now that he had admitted one of his secrets and that you hadn’t laughed at him. But he stopped himself from asking to see you, because that was what you both always did. What it was supposed to be like from the very beginning of your friendship. Anonymous. But now, with how he knew what his name sounded like coming from your mouth as you surrendered to pleasure, it was getting harder to pretend like he still wanted that.

He paused before he kept speaking. “It’s getting’ late, huh? I should let you get some sleep.”

You sighed, nuzzling yourself in your blanket. The relief from admitting your fantasies and finally releasing so much pent-up sexual tension hit you hard and made you sleepy incredibly quickly. “Yeah, okay. I think I’m gonna pass out in like three seconds.” You chuckled lazily.

Hearing you like that, all soft and pliant, tugged at something inside his chest. “Good. You uh… have a good night, Angel.”

“Good night, Trav. And thank you, again.”

“Don’t mention it. Sleep well.”

And with that, your phone hit your pillow as you drifted to sleep mere moments later.

****

Surprisingly enough, the next few days after that were like nothing had changed between the two of you. You still called each other way too much, and you laughed at dumb stuff together, and you had silly conversations that felt deep but really weren’t. Not that any of you cared about that.

“I’m telling you, Trav. I was waiting at a red light, and I saw the tree and it had no leaves, so I could see all the branches. And I thought to myself ‘woah, it looks like an upside-down lung’. And then I realized, trees are literally the lungs of the world!”

“Ohhh ‘cause of photosynthesis and shit? Damn… that’s kinda cool. You think they ever get breathless?”

“Heh, I don’t think that’s how it works. Oh! Hang on, my dad’s calling me.”

Your dad had called you because he had to take a business trip to your town, which was about three hours away from where he lived. He hated hotels so he had asked you if he could stay the night at your place. You had agreed on the condition that he understood that he was going to have to sleep on your couch. “No problem, Pickle. Just excited to see my daughter.”

The day that he was supposed to arrive at your place was your day off. It was the afternoon, and you were cleaning up your apartment to at least try to appear like you were a decent human being, when your phone rang.

The screen showed ‘Travis’ and you picked it up with a frown. He’s supposed to be sleeping.

“Hey, Trav. You okay?”

His voice came through low and rough. “I woke up and now I can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you.”

Your breath hitched as you felt heat pool low in your belly. “Oh, really? Poor baby…”

The phone sex had now slipped into the whole dynamic of your relationship, another piece of the puzzle that seemed to fit a little to seemlessly. It was just casual. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

He groaned and you could hear the faint sound of slicked skin being stroked. You could literally feel yourself soaking your underwear. He spoke again, his voice sounding completely wrecked. “Fuck, Angel. I keep thinkin’ about you ridin’ me, takin’ whatever you need from me while I tell you how fuckin’ beautiful you look. I want your ass bouncin’ on me while your tits are bouncin’ in my face. Fuuuck…”

As he was talking, you stopped what you were doing to strip your leggings and kneel on the couch to start touching yourself, holding yourself up on the back of it as if you were riding him. You moaned at his words as you plunged your fingers inside your wet cunt, your hips grinding against your hand. “Bet you’d feel so good deep inside me, Trav. I’d keep grinding on you ‘til I’d come so hard all around your cock, baby.”

He shuddered as his release crashed over him too easily, like he had been so worked up that the sound of you needing him too was enough to bring him to his peak. Warm ropes of cum painted the soft give of his belly as it tensed from his orgasm. He finally took a deep breath as his tummy relaxed, the endorphins starting to loosen his limbs. “Holy shit, Angel… Made such a fuckin’ mess for you.”

The image came to you like a revelation – you pulling him out of your sopping pussy so he comes all over himself, just so you can then settle between his knees and lick it all off of him before taking his spent and oversensitive shaft into your mouth and tasting yourself. It had you clenching around your fingers as you came with a loud cry. “Fuck, Travis!”

You collapsed forward against the back of the couch before sitting down on the cushions, panting softly.

He chuckled lazily. “Oh hi, by the way.”

You laughed with him. “Well, weren’t you a little desperate, huh?”

He scratched his jaw, his fingers nails catching on the slight stubble there. “Only for you, Angel. Literally couldn’t go back to sleep. And I knew you weren’t workin’, so…” It seemed to hit him then. “Oh, did I interrupt you doin’ somethin’? I’m really sorry if I did, I wasn’t thinkin’ clearly-”

You cut him off. “Stop, Travis. You’re fine. I was just doing some cleaning because my dad is coming for the night. Nothing too important.”

He let out a breath of relief. “Right! Your dad. Are you excited about it?”

You smiled as you got up and picked up your leggings to head to the bathroom. “Yeah, I am! Haven’t seen him in a while since moving out.”

He yawned, but you knew it wasn’t because he thought you were boring. It was just a time where he was usually asleep and now that you had helped him get off, exhaustion was starting to pull him back under. “That’s good then, you can do a little catch up.”

“Mhm. And you should catch up on some sleep, mister. ‘Fore you go to work.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He yawned again. “Just like hearing your voice.”

You melted slightly, your hand pausing around the edge of your shower curtain as you felt your stomach flutter with that unnamed feeling you both loved and tried to ignore. “Me too, Trav… Now try and get some sleep.”

“Night, Angel.”

“Night.” It was so easy for him to call you nicknames outside of your sexual activities, but it still felt awkward for you. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you weren’t sure you had the right to. And because you weren’t sure you’d be able to keep it casual then.

****

“You still got the tools I gave you when you moved here?” Your dad said, looking under your kitchen sink.

Your face scrunched up. Technically, yes. You still had them. But they were in a storage unit with a bunch of stuff that hadn’t fit in your apartment when you had moved here. Your dad had pulled you into a hug when he had first arrived and immediately spotted the leaking faucet over your shoulder. He had jumped into his ‘helpful dad’ persona quite quickly after that.

“Think I left them at the storage unit,” you said, as if it had been an accident when that happened. Truth is, you had no intention of fixing stuff around your place if you could either call your landlord or a handyman about it.

He gave you a disapproving look. “Then let’s go get ‘em, Pickle,” he said, already picking up his keys.

“Ugh Dad… Can’t we just stay in and watch a movie or something?”

“Come on. Just a quick drive, and then you’ll thank me when you won’t hear that awful dripping sound all the time.”

You sighed and gave in.

The drive over to the storage facility was surprisingly fun as you and your dad sung some classic rock tunes he used to make you listen to when you were just a kid. The windows were rolled down, the wind messing up your hair slightly, but it felt so good you didn’t care.

Once you arrived at your destination, you both got out of the car and headed toward the glass doors of the facility. The gray building gave you slight goosebumps – or maybe it was the humidity still clinging to the air from the small bit of rain that fell earlier. The asphalt was still dark and wet from it.

Your phone pinged as you walked.

Travis : How’s it going with your dad? :)

You typed up a reply as your dad opened the glass door for you.

You : Going well! We’re picking something up

You pressed send as you took in the large entrance, still very grayish white and industrial looking. About a few seconds later, you heard a buzzing sound come from the front desk.

Your dad spoke up as he saw the elevator. “What floor is it on?”

You took out the key and looked at the number on it. “It’s down to sub-level 2, I think-“

“Oh! Hey! I didn’t hear you guys come in. My bad, I was in the back.” The employee rounded the corner of the front desk, overgrown bleached hair bouncing a little as he jogged to reach you and your dad.

You stared at him completely frozen. You’d recognize that voice anywhere. How could you not, really? You had heard him talk, laugh, cry (almost) and moan for Christ’s sake. Your eyes immediately took in his face, the way his hazel eyes were soft and looked a little surprised to see customers. You observed how he seemed to have freckles and moles everywhere, how his stubble looked just perfect to give him that slightly unpolished look that fit him so well. Your gaze went down to his neck and the ‘Howdy’ tattoo etched there, shitty and scratchy like he had once described over the phone when he had gone in detail about his experience in prison. His voice cut back in through the ringing in your ears as your ogling reached the ‘Atchison Self-storage’ jacket he had on.

“…You guys coming to see your unit?” He looked at the tag attached to the key in your hand. “Sub-level 2, huh? My favorite. I can totally show you guys down there. I mean, I work here and even I get lost some time.”

He gave you a soft smile, and it made you clear your throat as a knot of anxiety immediately grew through your insides. You should have played it off. You should have denied his help and pretended like you hadn’t recognized the voice of the man you had accidentally started falling for. But the word was out of your mouth before you could stop it – a tell-tale sign his spontaneity was slowly influencing you after months of friendship.

“Travis?”

****

A/N : I'm sorryyyyyy for the cliffhanger hehehe should I write a part 2?

Taglist : If you want to be added or taken off, just comment!

You laughed, passing him another bowl. “Poor us, slaving away as usual.”

“Our team work is incredible.” Steve declared dramatically.

You laughed again, shaking your head as you reached into the sink for another glass. Steve watched you for a second longer than he meant to, the way you smiled to yourself, how you tucked a loose strand behind your ear every time it got in the way, scrunching your nose slightly when you focused.

The thought escaped him before he could pause it. “You know, you’re really pretty.” He said quietly.

Your hand stopped halfway to the faucet, blinking up at him. “What?”

Oh no, had he offended you? He just wanted you to know how pretty you were, even in the least moments you expected.

“I just…” he rubbed the back of his neck. “I said you’re really pretty.”

Your brain promptly stopped working, a heated blush rushed to your face that made your ears burn. “Oh,” you said breathlessly.

“Yeah.” Steve gave you a small smile.

The kitchen suddenly felt more cramped than it had a minute ago, you stared at each other in silence, your mouth parted.

You needed an escape, anything to ensure you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself right here in front of the pretty boy Steve Harrington. “I…” You took an unconscious step backwards.

“I think Nancy needs me.” You glanced back to the door, when she had in fact not called you at all.

“Oh, Nancy?” Steve raised a brow, but you only nodded rapidly.

Before Steve could question it further, you were already turning on your heel, and speed walking out of the kitchen.

He stared at the empty spot you had been standing in, with a look of utter confusion clouding his features. “…Huh,” he blinked.

The second time you ran away, was because Steve had made the mistake of holding your hand.

The annual Fourth of July Hawkins fair was, in your opinion, the worst place to have a crush. There were too many people crowding the area, which meant too many occurrences for you to accidentally bump into Steve.

He kept smiling at you in a way that made your stomach do flips, and unfortunately for your rapid beating heart, he hadn’t left your side all night.

“I’m pretty sure I could beat all those rigged carnival games, in the end it just comes down to probability.” Dustin announced through a mouthful of caramel apple.

Lucas snorted. “You have a better chance at finding a date than that.”

The group continued bricking as you wandered deeper into the fairgrounds, weaving between families and children darting from one side to the other.

The smell of kettle corn drifted through the warm summer air, music from the carousel echoed in the distance. Someone brushed past your shoulder, then another, leaving you having trouble to keep up.

“Guys, wait up!” Mike called from somewhere you couldn’t see ahead.

The rest of the party slipped through a gap in the crowd before it disappeared again. You hesitated for half a second, searching for a way through the sea of people, suddenly you felt warm fingers wrap gently around your hand.

“C’mon.” Steve called, glancing back at you with an easy smile. “Don’t wanna lose you.”

He gave your hand the tiniest tug, and you felt your heart completely stop. “Oh,” was all you could manage, but Steve didn’t seem to notice.

He simply lead you through the crowd, occasionally pausing to make sure you were still with him. The worst part, was how your hand fit perfectly in his, palm even softer than you’d imagined, his thumb brushing against yours as he adjusted his grip.

You were fairly certain you were dreaming. When the crowd finally thinned again, he still didn’t let go, your eyes darted down to your conjoined hands, then back up to him.

He was laughing at something Robin had said, not even realizing he was still touching you. The thought made your breathing slow, then quicken rapidly. You lasted less than thirty seconds before blurting. “I need a pretzel!”

Steve looked over, his brows furrowed. “I’ll—uh—meet you guys in a second!” He couldn’t even get a word out, and you were already gone.

“I wonder why she keeps running away?” He shook his head.

The third time you ran away was after your first kiss.

Steve had finally sucked up the courage to ask you, there wasn’t any pressure, or awkward expectations, only the two of you figuring things out.

He had taken you to a movie drive-in, where the two of you spent more time whispering to each other on the hood of car rather than watching the actual movie.

“I had fun tonight.” Steve muttered as he killed the engine, stopping in front of your house.

“So did I.” You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face, instead of reaching for the door, you two stayed exactly where you were.

You glanced down at your hands folded in your lap. “What?” You laughed nervously when you caught him staring.

“Nothing.” He shrugged, but it was all too clear it was something.

“What are you thinking about?” You pressed softly, the curiosity getting the better of you.

Steve’s brown eyes twinkled in the pale moonlight. “You.”

Your breath caught, becoming very alert to the way he was subtly leaning closer. Steve stopped just an inch before your face, taking the opportunity, you met him halfway.

His lips brushed yours like he was afraid of scaring you away, the kiss short and sweet.

He pulled back, searching your face. “Was that okay?” He whispered.

You stared at him, your first kiss. Your first actual kiss with the boy who made you terribly shy, with Steve.

Your mind short circuited. “Yep,” you nodded way too enthusiastically.

“Just yep?” Steve laughed, his hand cupping your jaw, sending you further into your demise.

“Uh huh.” Your chest pounded so loudly you were convinced he could hear it. “I should—go.”

You reached for the door handle, Steve smiled. “See you tomorrow?”

“Mhm,” your throat closed up, he watched you through the windshield as you desperately fumbled around with your keys, then immediately slammed the door shut behind you.

The front curtain twitched, and you had completely forgotten he was still outside. The second your eyes met through the window, you let out a tiny squeak and closed the curtain shut again.

“She’s adorable.” Steve laughed to himself.

The fourth time you tried to run away, was because Steve told you he loved you.

The two of you were curled up on opposite ends of the couch, sharing a blanket as you listened to the soft patters of the rain contentedly.

He looked down at your knees touching, then took a deep silent breath. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

You turned to face him. “What is it?”

His warm brown eyes met yours, already crinkling at the corners with affection. “I love you.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs, that had been the last thing you expected to leave his mouth. Steve was always good with showing his feelings, and even better at catching you off guard.

He watched your eyes flicker towards the bathroom, a grin slowly spread across his face when he pinched down on your sides. “Oh no you don’t.”

“What?” You asked nervously.

“I know that look, it means you’re about to run away from me.” Steve caged you in.

“Steve…” you sighed, face aflame.

“You’re not running away from me this time.” He shook his head adamantly.

You groaned, hiding your face in his chest embarrassed he had finally caught you.

“I can’t help it—my brain just—”

“I know.” He wrapped his arms around you tightly and kissed the top of your head. “My little rabbit.” He whispered teasingly.

When you glanced up at him, you were shocked to not find a hint of annoyance on his face, only a wide smile. “I love you too.” You replied honestly. “And I’ll try not to run away anymore.”