#kinda hot but like imagine being push up against the window and fu—

[boba-beom]

kang taehyun WHAT 🫠🫠🫠 beomgyu the loml help me?!???

[ming-yu-hao]

Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder | Chapter 2

Pairing: fratboy!mingyu x female reader, some wonwoo x reader

Word Count: 6k

Synopsis: When you transferred to a different university, you and Wonwoo promised that you would make long distance work. But distance proves to be more difficult than you both originally thought.

This Chapter’s Tags: cyber sex lol, angst, CHEATING, grinding, oral (female receiving and male receiving), fingering, mingyu is just sweet and it makes me sad, kinda fluff?

Warning: THIS SERIES IS ABOUT CHEATING. DO NOT READ IF IT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!

A/N: i really self indulged on this one... man i just wanna fuck frat boy mingyu is that too much to ask... anyways PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK OF THIS CHAPTER I PUT A LOT MORE TIME INTO THIS ONE so feedback would be very appreciated <3

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Sunlight peeked through your blinds the next morning, stirring you awake. You opened your eyes and snapped them shut again as the glare of the sun blinded you. Yawning, you reached for your phone and squinted at the pile of unread messages from Jisoo that had built up over the span of last night.

Jisoo: omg what u were here for like 2 seconds :(

Sent at 10:49 PM

Jisoo: i hope u feel better babe

Sent at 10:49 PM

Jisoo: wait

Sent at 10:50 PM

Jisoo: did something happen with wonwoo

Sent at 10:50 PM

Jisoo: i swear if he's mad at you for being a normal college student...

Sent at 10:50 PM

Jisoo: bitch answerrrrr :(

Sent at 10:53 PM

Jisoo: i'm staying the night somewhere i hope ur feeling okay <3 pls update me when u wake up

Sent at 12:06 AM

You laughed under your breath as you realized that it was 10 AM and Jisoo's side of the room still remained empty. From how last night was going, you could only assume that she was somewhere with Seungcheol. Classic Jisoo, you thought to yourself.

Just as you sat up in bed, your phone vibrated with another notification. You glanced down, expecting another text from Jisoo, but your eyes lit up as you saw Wonwoo's name on the screen instead.

Wonwoo: good morning :) do you wanna facetime?

Sent at 10:27 AM

Without replying, you quickly opened up your laptop and called Wonwoo. He answered after a few rings, his face filling the screen for the first time in a month.

"That was fast," He laughed. He must had just woken up because his voice always had a distinct rasp in the morning. His glasses also still rested on his nose and you could see his bare chest at the edge of the frame.

You smiled warmly. "I've missed you," you said, leaning closer to the camera.

"I missed you too," he gave you a toothless smile and ran a hand over his face. "I'm sorry I kept ditching you."

You shook your head. "No, it's okay. I understand."

You stared at him for a moment, neither of you speaking; you almost didn't know what to say. After all this time, you felt like you didn't know anything that was going on in his life anymore. It was tearing at you slowly. You were watching your own boyfriend become a stranger to you.

Luckily, Wonwoo broke the silence. "What are you doing?" He asked.

You shrugged. "I just woke up. I need to shower."

He raised his eyebrows at you suggestively and chuckled. "Oh?"

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes as you snickered. Wonwoo rested his arm behind his head and smirked at you.

"Can you blame me? I haven't been inside you in so long." He groaned. You felt your face burn at his bluntness. You looked down at your hands, and he must have noticed your embarrassment because he quickly asked, "Your roommate isn't there, right?"

"No," you replied, gazing back up at his face.

"Why're you so shy?" He grinned devilishly.

"I'm not," you protested. You began to toy with the bottom of the big tee shirt you were wearing.

Wonwoo sighed loudly. "I'm horny."

"I can tell." You replied with a chuckle. You slowly pulled the hem of your shirt up farther until your underwear could be seen. Wonwoo noticed this, biting his lip.

"Fuck," he breathed, "I miss your tight little pussy." Your skin heated up with each word he spoke. You watched as he removed his arm from behind his head; your mind instantly filled with images of him stroking himself. "Touch yourself for me." Wonwoo demanded.

Without a word, you leaned back against your pillows and slowly spread your legs for the camera. The wetness between your thighs was so intense at this point that your underwear was clinging to your folds.

Wonwoo let out a deep groan as he touched himself off camera. Your skin flushed even further as you watched his face contort in pleasure. "Take off your shirt," he muttered.

You obeyed, pulling the fabric over your head and leaving yourself mostly exposed. Your breasts bounced in view of the camera as you leaned forward and pulled your underwear down your legs. Wonwoo moaned, his head leaning back and exposing the veins in his neck. "Fuck, you're gonna make me cum already."

You giggled and leaned back against the pillows again, this time exposing your nude body to him. You dragged your hand down to your heat and began to run your fingers through your folds. You let out a whine at the long-awaited contact. Your other hand squeezed at your breast, stimulating your sensitive nipples.

"Shit," Wonwoo hissed, "If I was there I'd be fucking you so hard. Making you moan my name for everyone to hear." You felt yourself clench at his filthy words. You bit your lip and rubbed your clit in circles.

"Mmh, shit." You moaned. "I miss you so much. Miss feeling your cock inside me." You heard Wonwoo's breathing grow heavier on his end of the line. You could tell he was going to cum soon. You pushed two fingers inside you, desperate to release.

Curling and scissoring your fingers deep inside you, intense pleasure began to take over your body. You threw your head back and whined loudly as you felt your orgasm approach. "Wonwoo," you moaned.

Wonwoo let out a choked moan at the sound of you moaning his name. "Fu- I'm cumming," he stuttered as he finally released.

You continued to pump your fingers inside of you while Wonwoo started to slow his breathing again. "Cum, baby," he said. You brought your other hand down to your clit and rubbed it in figure eights. Your legs twitched with pleasure, your walls clenching and pulsing around your fingers.

You cried out as your orgasm finally washed over you, your head falling back against the pillows behind you. You kept your eyes closed for a few seconds as you basked in the pleasure. Your heavy breathing began to calm.

When you opened your eyes, you saw Wonwoo wiping his hand with a tissue. He glanced at you and smiled. "Now that," he whistled as he laid back down against his mattress, "was unbelievably hot."

Your cheeks burned and you reached for your shirt to pull back over your head. "We should do that more often," he said.

You laughed. "Maybe."

Wonwoo sat up after a moment. "What time is it?" He asked.

You glanced at the clock. "Almost 11."

He groaned in frustration. "Fuck, I have to go. I have a group study soon."

"Oh," you replied.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly as he rose out of bed. "I'll call you Saturday, okay? I love you." You nodded silently.

"I love you too," you said right as he ended the call.

And then you were left alone, with sweat sticking to your skin and your soaked underwear balled up next to you. You shut your laptop and sat in silence for a few moments, staring out the window as you felt disappointment settle over you.

That was the first time you had seen his face in a month. Hell, that was the first full conversation you two had shared in so long. And it was over as quickly as it had begun.

Anxiety coursed through your veins. Was that all you had become to your boyfriend now? Just a number that he could call when he wanted to get off? Were you no longer someone he confided in?

You shook yourself out of your worried thoughts. Finally, you stood and walked over to the bathroom, your legs still a little weak beneath you, and turned the shower water on.

You stared at yourself in the mirror while you waited for the water to heat up. Your mind flashed with images of last night—of Mingyu staring down at you, his lips nearly brushing against yours, and the sound of you moaning his name.

You had told yourself that it had only affected you because you missed Wonwoo. Then how were you still left feeling unsatisfied after what just happened between you two?

Things were not the same as they once were, you noted as you stepped under the stream of hot water.

When you walked into your digital media class on Tuesday morning, you were hyperaware of each little movement you made. You kept your gaze fixated on the ground and carefully trotted up the stairs until you reached the row you always sat in. Glancing up, you saw Mingyu through the corner of your eye, his attention captured by his phone.

The sound of you setting your bag down was enough to pull him away from his device and look over at you. You sat down and stared forward, refusing to make eye contact with him. Your face started to burn in embarrassment; you didn’t know how you were going to make it through this class.

“Hey, I’m sorry about Saturday,” he paused, “I was drinking and I didn’t know what I was doing.” He said, breaking the silence. You forced yourself to finally look at him. He was back in his usual state: clean, pushed back hair and muscles concealed by his hoodie. You could see genuine remorse in the shine of his eyes and in the slight pout of his lip.

You shook your head. “No, no. It’s okay. I’m not mad at you.” You reassured him. His troubled expression seemed to lighten up a bit at your words. He gave you a small smile and nodded his head.

“Good. Otherwise this class would’ve been a lot more awkward.” He chuckled and returned his attention to his phone.

You observed him for a minute, noticing the way he chewed on his bottom lip in concentration. Your body flushed again as you thought about his lips: how close they were to yours, the words they whispered to you, how you imagined they would feel against you skin. You tore your gaze away from Mingyu, your heart beating a little faster than before.

You needed to get a grip. There was no way you were going to make it through the rest of this semester if you spent every class getting flustered while reminiscing your half-asleep-wet-dream-fantasy of Mingyu.

Sighing and choosing to ignore the pressing thoughts in the back of your mind, you pulled out your laptop and buried yourself in your notes until the professor strolled into the room and began the lecture.

You managed to successfully ignore Mingyu’s presence for most of the class, despite him sitting only a few feet to your side. You were only reminded of his existence again when your professor announced: “We will be working on a project for the next week. Everybody needs a partner.”

You and Mingyu glanced at each other, as the two of you normally collaborated on assignments in class. He nodded and gave you a thumbs up before you returned your attention to the professor.

“You will write two articles on events or people in the community. For the first, one of you will write and the other will be responsible for photography. For the second, you switch.” He explained briefly.

The lecture came to an end a few minutes later, and the room instantly started buzzing with conversation as students stood up and scrambled to find partners. You turned to Mingyu and gave him a tight-lipped smile.

“I guess I should get your number so we can talk about the project?” Mingyu suggested, pulling out his phone.

“Uh... yeah, okay,” You replied awkwardly as you typed your number into his phone. You cursed yourself internally for letting this happen. This class used to be fun: you and Mingyu casually talked and exchanged answers and cracked jokes with each other and that was that. You didn’t know much about his life, and you didn’t need to. Hell, you didn’t even know he was part of a fraternity. But now that was all ruined. You couldn’t even look at him without feeling small and awkward. And all of this was to blame on some cheap alcohol and your stupid hormones.

You pulled yourself out of your thoughts as you handed Mingyu’s phone back to him. “So, do you have any ideas?” You prompted.

Mingyu’s face contorted as he thought for a moment. “Um, my frat’s doing some charity event this week,” he said. When you didn’t respond for a moment, he panicked and added, “I don’t know if it’s a good idea. We can just-“

“It’s perfect.” You cut him off, snickering at his uncertainty. “Since you know more about it, you can write that one, and I can come and take pictures.” Relief flooded his features and he let out a breath. “When is it?” You asked.

“Thursday.”

“I’ll see you there, then,” you smiled.

The next day passed quickly and before you knew it, the evening of the fundraiser had arrived. You and Mingyu had texted casually the past couple of days; he just gave you details on the fundraiser and tried to come up with an article idea for you.

You strolled through campus on that Thursday afternoon, wrapping your denim jacket around your torso a little tighter as a chilled breeze blew through the air. The brisk atmosphere of late autumn was finally starting to settle in. You quickened your pace, wanting to reach the university quad before you froze.

As you neared the quad, you could hear distant chatter and laughter. You rounded the corner and took in the view of the surprisingly large crowd that gathered near the booth the SVT frat had set up. They were having a raffle for a voucher for free textbooks. Whoever came up with the idea was genius; you couldn’t think of a better way to get broke college students to participate in something.

You walked up to the booth, camera bag in hand, and immediately recognized the boy sitting behind it. It was Seokmin. His eyes lit up as he saw your familiar face. “Hey! Y/N, right?” He greeted you. You told him yes and smiled before greeting him back.

“Do you know where Mingyu is?” You asked, scanning over your shoulder for the tall boy.

Seokmin squinted as he stood up and looked around the quad. “Uh, he was somewhere around here earlier.” He rolled his eyes and chuckled. “He’s probably off being an idiot.” You laughed and fiddled with the camera in your hands.

Just as you were about to ask if you could take a picture, someone shook your shoulders from behind. “Y/N! What are you doing here?” Jisoo bounced in front of you, Seungcheol by her side.

“Jisoo? I didn’t realize you were a member of the frat now?” You joked before holding up the camera. “I have to take pictures for a class project.” You explained.

Seungcheol wrapped his arm around Jisoo’s waist and said, “You can take a picture of us.” She agreed excitedly, already posing and smiling before you even pulled out the camera.

You stepped back and looked through the lens, making sure that the booth was visible in the background. “Okay, say cheese!” You said as you snapped the picture.

A pair of hands then poked you in your sides, causing you to yelp loudly and nearly drop the camera. You whipped your head around and saw Mingyu’s taunting face smirking down at you. “Hey, Y/N.”

“God, you scared me! You’re lucky I didn’t drop the camera.” You cried, playfully smacking him in the arm.

Mingyu held his hands up next to his face in defense. “Woah, sorry. My bad.” He chuckled. Jisoo and Seungcheol approached you two, butting in on your conversation.

“You know Mingyu?” Seungcheol asked, glancing between you two and raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, we’re partners for a project.” Mingyu explained briefly while checking over his shoulder. He turned to you. “Let’s go take these pictures fast, yeah? It’s kinda cold.” Before you could even respond, he linked his arm with yours and walked you away from the booth and into the small crowd of students.

You furrowed your eyebrows and looked up at him. “We got out of there fast.” You noted.

Mingyu sighed. “Yeah, sorry. Cheol’s just weird about certain stuff.”

You were even more confused now. “What do you mean?”

“He just like- he tries to set me up with people all the time and I don’t want him the get the wrong idea of us.” He dismissed quickly before saying: “Why don’t you get some pictures of the people standing around here? Just take a few. We don’t need that many.”

“Oh... okay.” You responded hesitantly. You lifted the camera up again and snapped a couple more pictures of students conversing and walking up to the booth to buy raffle tickets. Mingyu stood next to you with his arms crossed over his chest, impatiently tapping his foot. He flashed you a relieved smile when you turned to him.

“All done?”

“We should be.” You replied while placing the camera back in the bag.

“Okay, we can go back to the house and work on the article together,” he said, “there’s gonna be some people from here hanging around there later but they shouldn’t be too loud.”

You agreed and began walking with him towards the SVT frat house. The sun was beginning to set now, and the air nipped at your exposed skin as the temperature continued to drop. You stared down at your shoes while you walked, your mind still fixating on Mingyu’s strange behavior.

Finally, you mustered up the courage to ask: “Are you okay?”

Mingyu’s eyes met with yours. Confusion overtook his features in response to your question. “Yeah?” He chuckled.

“Sorry,” you spoke, “you were just acting weird earlier.”

Mingyu sighed and stared ahead silently for a moment. “I don’t know,” he started, “I guess I just still feel bad about last weekend.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you revisited the memory once again.

“Sorry for bringing it up again. I know we should probably just move on already cause it wasn’t that big of a deal. I just... feel like I overstepped. So... I’m sorry.” He rambled.

You looked up at him again. “You don’t have to feel bad. I’m not mad at you.” You exhaled. “But you’re right... we should just move on.”

Mingyu gave you a small nod before changing the subject. “Did you figure out an article idea yet?”

You shook your head. “No, but it’ll be fine. There’s so much that goes on around campus.”

Your conversation slowly died out, but thankfully you arrived at the SVT frat shortly after. Mingyu opened the front door and allowed you to step through before walking in behind you and shutting it. The house was warm; you shivered as your skin adjusted to the change in temperature. You slipped your shoes off and stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to guide you through the house.

Mingyu led you to the dining room, crying out as he rounded the corner. “Seriously, Seungkwan?” He huffed.

A boy sat at the head of the table, textbooks sprawled across the surface. A few other people sat at the table with notebooks and laptops in front of them, watching Mingyu with confused expressions on their faces.

The boy—Seungkwan—stood up from his chair with his jaw dropped. “What do you mean ‘seriously, Seungkwan’?” He mocked Mingyu’s deep voice. “You know I have group study every Thursday!” He cried.

Mingyu rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He responded.

Seungkwan sat back down and calmly resumed his studies as if nothing had happened. You assumed that this must be typical behavior between the two. Staring at Mingyu with wide eyes, he turned to you.

“Is it fine if we go work on it in my room?” He asked, his voice lowered.

You felt blood rush through your ears. You swallowed. “Yeah,” you exhaled.

Mingyu led you up the stairs and down the hall. When he opened the door to his room, you were surprised by how clean it was. Everything was organized neatly and the room smelled fresh.

You heard the door click shut behind you, and your heart started beating faster.

“We can just sit on the floor,” Mingyu spoke. His deep voice startled you a bit. You walked further into the room and sat down with your legs crossed, resting your back against his bed frame as you set the camera down next to you. Mingyu sat down, his knee only a few inches away from yours.

Reaching behind his head for the laptop sitting on his bed, he pulled it into his lap and opened up the article.

“I’m not completely done yet.” He smiled sheepishly while rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s fine. You’re farther than I am.” You reassured him while you took the camera out of the bag again.

He laughed, “That’s true.” You placed the camera in his hands. “Alright, let me just get these pictures pulled up on here.”

You nodded and looked down as you played with your hands. You began to wonder what Wonwoo would think if he knew that you were in some other guy’s room right now.

You frowned and pulled your phone out of your pocket. You opened up your messages and went to send a text to Wonwoo when you realized that the message you had sent him last night was still unread. A dark, heavy feeling settled over your chest. Why did he act as if you didn’t exist anymore? Why would he suggest doing long distance when he couldn’t even commit to it?

You shut your phone off and set it on the floor next to you, staring forward. You exhaled, trying to stop the tightness growing in your throat.

Mingyu was leaned over his computer, his lips pursed in concentration. The definition of his triceps was visible through his sweatshirt. “These pictures actually didn’t turn out too horrible.” He said after a few moments of silence.

You laughed and playfully hit his shoulder. “Shut up.”

He brought his gaze to meet yours, a teasing smile on his lips. “No, they’re actually good.”

“Thanks,” you squeaked, the intensity of his gaze making you nervous. You felt blood rush through your veins. You broke eye contact, glancing down at his nose, and then at his lips that were parted slightly. You quickly looked up to his eyes again, but now they held a knowing look in them. He knew exactly what thoughts were going through your mind.

You inched closer to him, your breath getting caught in your throat as you noticed him bringing his face closer to yours. Your heart raced as you fluttered your eyes shut. His lips brushed against yours and you leaned closer, but then you felt him pull away.

“Do you really have a boyfriend?” He asked.

You sighed, opening your eyes slowly and looking into his concerned ones again. You pressed your lips into a line and looked down shamefully.

“I do,” you admitted. That tight feeling in your throat began to come back. Mingyu was silent. “I’m sorry.”

As you spoke your voice cracked and tears began to spill from your eyes. You felt Mingyu’s warm, soft skin caress your cheeks, holding your face in his hands. You looked up at him with teary eyes.

“Hey. Shhh, don’t cry.” He whispered. His brows were furrowed in concern as he ran his thumb over your cheek. “You can talk to me about it. I’ll listen.”

God, how you hated that he knew exactly what to do and what to say. You hated that he was giving you everything you had craved the past two months without even realizing it. You hated how he made it so easy to confide in him when you had a boyfriend that was supposed to be there for you instead—a boyfriend that was becoming a stranger to you.

You closed your eyes, causing more tears to fall down your face. “I’m sorry,” you said again, your voice a broken whisper.

You inhaled a shaky breath. “We’re long distance. But he barely talks to me anymore.” You explained. You brought your hand up to hold the wrist that was still caressing your face. “I just feel so alone. It feels like he’s given up on me.”

Mingyu was silent. The only audible sound in the room was your uneven breathing.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, “you deserve better than that.”

You felt your heart flutter in your chest at his sweet words.

“What do you want?” He questioned.

You opened your eyes. You were no longer crying, but your face was still wet with tears. Mingyu was staring at you with that same concerned look: eyebrows furrowed, eyes wide and conflicted, lips slightly parted.

“I just want someone to care.” You muttered.

He brought his face closer to yours again. His tongue darted out to lick his lips, and his eyes were half shut as he whispered: “I can take care of you.”

Your breath hitched.

“Do you want that?” He asked.

“Yes.”

Mingyu finally brought his lips to yours, kissing you hard and passionately. He left slow, open-mouthed kisses against your lips. The hand on your face gently squeezed, puckering out your lips as he continued to kiss them.

You brought your hands up to his hair, running your fingers through his soft locks as he pulled you into his lap. Your hips rested on top of his, straddling him, and you felt his tongue dart out against your lips. You parted your lips, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth and deepen the kiss.

You ground your core into his lap, feeling his length begin to harden beneath the fabric of his jeans. He groaned into your mouth as you continued to move your hips back and forth.

This is all that you had wanted: someone to care for you, to touch you, to pay attention to you and make you feel wanted.

Mingyu brought both of his hands down to your hips, pushing you down against him as he lifted his hips up towards you. “Let me make you feel good,” he muttered against your lips.

You exhaled shakily, feeling the growing wetness between your legs. “Okay,” you whispered.

He placed his hands on your ass, roughly squeezing the soft flesh between his hands. You circled your hips again, letting out a quiet moan as his hard cock brushed against your clothed clit.

He pulled his lips away from yours. “Stand up,” he said quickly. You obeyed, peeled yourself off of him, and stood expectantly as he stood up from the floor himself. You could see the outline of his cock in his jeans as he rose. He towered over you now, making you feel small beneath him. He pushed your jacket off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, and his fingers played with the hem of your shirt.

“Can I take this off?” He whispered into your ear. You nodded silently and he pressed a soft kiss beneath your ear. He lifted the fabric up, pulling it over your head and exposing your body to him. His hands brushed against your waist, making goosebumps form on your skin. “Lay down,” he demanded.

You sat down at the edge of his mattress and laid on your back, bunching your legs up at the edge of the bed. He leaned over your body, caging you in by resting both of his forearms on either side of you, and placed another kiss to your lips. Just as he began to kiss down to your neck, he pressed his hardness against your center. You let out a whimper at the contact.

He nibbled and sucked at the soft skin of your neck, causing your entire body to tingle. You leaned your head back, exposing more of your neck to him, and your eyes rolled back into your head at the pleasure.

“Mingyu,” you whimpered. He pressed his clothed length against you again.

“Fuck,” he hissed. He placed more open-mouthed kisses against your neck as he ran one of his hands down your stomach. He brought his hand up again and squeezed your breast through your bra.

He pulled away from your neck, looking down hungrily at your chest. You noticed this and complied to his wishes by arching your back against the bed. He brought his hands behind you, unhooking your bra before pulling it off of you slowly. He exhaled as he stared at your bare chest.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said. You felt heat rush to your face at the compliment. Before you could say anything, he brought his mouth down to your breast, sucking and flicking his tongue against your hardened nipple. You gasped. At this point you were so turned on you were sure that your arousal had already soaked through your leggings. He squeezed your other breast with his hand, and you arched your back again as you moaned.

Mingyu pushed himself up, staring into your eyes with his lust-filled ones. He kept eye contact with you as he pulled away, nearing your core. His fingers slipped under the waistband of your leggings. He looked to you for approval, and you nodded your head rapidly.

He tugged your pants down quickly and slid them off your legs, leaving you in only your underwear. He could see the wet spot on the fabric; he brought his fingers to the cloth and pressed it against your clit. Your legs twitched and you gasped quietly.

Mingyu chuckled. “Shit, you’re so fucking wet for me.” He licked his lips, and you could see the pride in his gaze as he slipped his fingers beneath your underwear and pulled them down your legs.

He brought his face close to your center, smirking before finally bringing his tongue to you and licking a strip up to your clit.

You let out a choked moan and your legs shut naturally, but Mingyu placed both of his hands on your knees and spread you open for him again. He placed a soft kiss on your clit before sucking on it harshly. Your hips jerked up and you cried out.

He looked up at your from between your thighs, an alarmed look on his face. “You have to be quiet, baby. There’s people downstairs.” He went back to sucking on your clit right after.

You pressed your lips together, trying to contain your moans, and they came out as heavy pants and muffled whimpers instead.

Mingyu brought his fingers to your core, teasing your entrance. He flicked his tongue against your clit as he pushed a finger into you and curled it deep inside you. You arched your back and cried out, “Fuck!”

As the pleasure continued to grow, you brought your hands down to his hair again, tugging each time he pumped and curled his finger in you. He moaned against your core, the vibrations making your eyes roll back into your head.

He pushed in another finger, scissoring them deep inside you. You could hear the filthy sounds of his fingers pumping into your wetness.

“M-Mingyu,” you moaned. “I’m gonna cum.”

He smirked against your core before resuming his ministrations of his tongue against your clit. He pumped his fingers into you faster and curled them with each thrust.

The pressure in your lower stomach was growing fast. Your legs began to shake as the pleasure built, and when Mingyu pushed his fingers deep into your core, you felt the knot snap.

You threw your head back as intense pleasure washed over your entire body. Your legs convulsed and you couldn’t hold back a particularly loud moan. Mingyu continued to pump his fingers into you slowly as you rode out your orgasm.

When the pleasure subsided, he pulled his fingers out of you, keeping eye contact with you as he placed them in his mouth and sucked them clean. The sight was so dirty that you whimpered softly. He leaned over you again, kissing you one last time, allowing you to taste yourself.

He rolled over, laying next to you on the bed and staring up at the ceiling. “How was that?” He asked.

“Good,” you breathed, “really fucking good.”

He chuckled under his breath. “I’m glad I could help.”

You sat up, glancing at the obvious boner that still strained against his jeans. “What about you?” You prompted.

“I’m fine. It’ll go away.” He dismissed, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Just lay down with me.”

You bit your lip, thinking for a moment before palming him through his jeans. “But I wanna make you feel good. It’s only fair.”

He hissed at the contact, his hips jerking up a bit. “Shit,” he muttered, removing his arm and placing it behind his head.

He watched you with half-lidded eyes as you fumbled with the button of his pants. You pulled them down, reaching your hand into his boxers and pulling out his cock. It was big. Really big. You were honestly worried if you were going to be able to fit it in your mouth. You stared at it for a moment, wide-eyed.

Mingyu looked down at you and giggled. “Well? Do something.”

You pumped your hand up his shaft, swiping over the tip and collecting the pre-cum that was leaking out. You pumped him a few times before situating yourself between his legs and bringing your lips down to his tip.

You rubbed your lips against his leaking head of his cock before pressing a soft kiss to it. Finally, you wrapped your mouth around him and sucked on the head. He groaned and lightly jerked his hips up, forcing more of his cock into your mouth. You glanced up at him while you continued to suck, pushing more of him into your mouth.

He stared back at you with his mouth hung open. “Fuck. ‘M so hard.” He moaned before leaning his head back against the mattress. “I’m not gonna last long.”

You swirled your tongue around him while he was in your mouth. Then you pushed your head down further, taking him deep into your throat. You struggled to inhale through your nose, almost choking on his dick.

You pulled yourself off him, catching your breath, and continued to pump his length. You brought your head back and sucked him into your mouth, using your hand to stroke whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

Mingyu was panting and jerking his hips up each time you swirled your tongue around his tip. You looked up and saw his head thrown back, the veins in his neck prominent as he clenched his teeth. He hit the back of your throat and you moaned against him, the vibrations causing him to gasp.

“Fuck! Fuck, I’m cumming.” He cried. You kept him in your mouth as the strings of hot liquid met your tongue.

You kept sucking on his length until you swallowed around him. You pulled yourself off his cock with a pop and stuck out your tongue to show him that you swallowed everything.

He pushed his softening cock back into his boxers and motioned for you to come up next to him. “Let’s lay down.”

You laid down on his chest and he pulled a blanket up to cover your nude body. You closed your eyes and listened to the softness of his breathing and the faint beat of his heart beneath his ribs.

“Shouldn’t we work on the project?” You asked after a few moments.

“No, it’s fine. Let’s just rest for a minute.” He said, running a hand gently down your back. You leaned into his soft touch.

The two of you laid in a comfortable silence, just basking in the calmness and in each other’s warm presence.

“Mingyu?” You broke the silence, looking up at him.

“Hm?” He hummed, meeting your eyes.

“Thank you.”

[avintagekiss24]

Doodles and Diamonds

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x black reader (high school!au)

Rating: teen

Warnings: slight language

Word Count: 1858

Summary: Calculus sucks. If it wasn’t for your habit of doodling, you’d never make it through class. Apparently, your drawings help someone else stay awake as well.

A/N: I told y’all I have a problem! Challenges are my weakness. This was written for @littledarlinhavefaithinme 10 marvelous things I hate about you challenge that I found yesterday. The prompt is in bold. Here’s some high school fluff to balance out all of the porn I’ve been posting lately, lol. (the title is referring to a baseball diamond, just fyi)(i’m terrible at coming up with titles).

Calculus is the worst class of the day. It’s right after lunch, so you’re usually stuffed to the gills with french fries and orange soda. You never bring your calculus book with you, so you have to walk clear across the school to get to your car to grab it, so by the time you make it back to the classroom, you’re hot, sweaty, and out of breath. Plus, it’s calculus, so in it’s own right, it’s just terrible. But, day after day, month after month, you stuff yourself stupid with french fries, you run to your car and back, and curse yourself when you finally collapse into your chair from sheer exhaustion. 

The only thing that keeps you awake in calculus is your doodling. You prop your sketchpad in between the pages of your calculus book and fill the pages with everything you can imagine. Puppies, dragons, witches, your teacher turning as a frog- doesn’t matter the subject. You think it, it gets doodled.

Something weird happened a couple of weeks ago though. When making your daily trek to your car, you noticed a sticky note on the drivers window. You peeled it off, your face screwed up in confusion as you read over the chicken scratch.

Can you draw lion eating an ice cream cone?

You looked around but saw no one paying you the least bit of attention. You didn’t recognize the handwriting, which, to be honest, you wouldn’t recognize your own mother’s handwriting if your life depended on it. You shoved the note into your pocket, grabbed your book, and ran your ass to the classroom. You glanced around as the room filled with students, trying to find the doodle requestor, but no one even looked in your direction. Class started a few minutes later, and to keep from falling asleep, you drew a lion eating an ice cream cone. 

Every day after that, a new post it note appeared on your car, asking for some stupid little drawing. A cat playing the flute, Captain America punching a baby, a happy little dinosaur flying a kite during a storm; the requests were endless. But, everyday, you obliged your secret doodle admirer. You drew exactly what they asked for, ripped it out of your book, folded it up all nice, and left it in the seat of your chair. 

Why not just wait and see who picks up the prized drawing, some would ask? And risk being late to art class? The class that just happens to be your favorite, have your favorite teacher, and you share with your bff since third grade? You think not. Finding out who the doodle master is, is really not all that important. Plus, you kinda like the mystery of all anyway. 

Today is like all the others. You finish off your french fries, tossing the paper basket into the trash before you head for the parking lot. Your face is buried in your phone, your fingers tapping away at the screen as you approach your 1965 fire engine red Ford Mustang (a present from your dad, who lives clear across the country and has never been there for you and is trying to make up for it with money- you’re not complaining.) You pick your head up, just in time to see one Bucky Barnes standing at your drivers door. 

You stop, squinting as the wind blows your out of control, curly, frizzy hair in your face. His head is down, his expensive sunglasses propped up on the top of his head, pushing his hair back. You can’t really tell what he’s doing as you approach from the passenger side, but the likes of jock, douche-bag Bucky Barnes being next to your pride and joy, makes you uneasy.

“Umm, what are you doing?” You finally huff as you reach the passenger side door. 

He snaps his head up to you, his blue eyes wide as he shoves his hands into his back pockets, “Uh, you know, just um, admiring your car. It’s in fantastic shape.”

You nod slowly as you purse your lips, glancing around the parking lot, “Uh huh.”

You open the door and dump your bag into the front seat before grabbing your calculus book and your sketchpad. You slam the door shut and pop back up to find Bucky still standing there, his eyes still wide, his hands still in his back pockets. You fold your arms and rest them on the hood as you blink back at him, a smirk on your face as you lift your eyebrows.

He clears his throat and laughs nervously, “Did you um, restore it yourself?”

“Nope.”

He nods, sucking his teeth, “So, you bought it like this, huh?”

“Obviously.” You answer, your voice dripping with annoyance. 

He chuckles again as his nerves get the best of him, “Not a big talker, huh?”

You shrug, “Depends on the topic. My fenders don’t really whip me into a verbal frenzy.”

“Right.” He starts, backing away from the car, “Well, I’ll let you get back to it. I’ll uh, I’ll see you, um, in a few minutes, in calculus, I guess.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes at the whole conversation. The two of you have been in the same classes since second grade, and these are the most words the two of you have ever exchanged. You squint at him as he walks off, a small piece of yellow something grabbing your attention from his back pocket. You lean down to peer through the window to the drivers side, noticing that your usual sticky note isn’t pressed to the window today. 

You move around to the drivers side, checking the door and then the ground, but there’s... nothing. You snap your head back toward the brunette as he crosses the parking lot, that yellow something still sticking out of his pocket as he moves. Your mouth drops open. Holy shit! 

You take off in a sprint, your black converses slapping against the pavement as you advance on him. When you finally reach him, you snag the folded up sticky note from his pocket and nearly double over from the fire that is now your lungs. You should really participate in gym a little more often. He turns, throwing up his hand at you as you try and catch your breath, your hands on your knees.

“What the fu-” He starts, his words halting as soon as he notices the sticky note in your hand, “Gimme that.”

You stand up straight, lifting your arm up into the air as you whip around so that you’re facing the opposite direction. He pulls at your arm and swipes at your hand as you turn sharply left and right, moving your arms up and down and side to side to keep it out of his reach. You bend over and stretch out your arms, using your ass and hips to keep him at bay as you unfold the three by three piece of yellow paper.

“Can you draw a giraffe driving a fire truck?” You read out loud, laughing  as he swipes at your hands again, “Oh my god.”

He curses lightly underneath his breath and finally drops his hands to his sides, “Fine. Fine. You caught me.”

You stand up straight again and turn to face him, “I would have never guessed in a million years that it was you.”

“Why not?”

You scoff, widening your eyes at him, “Golden boy, all star shortstop Bucky Barnes, who hasn’t said two words to me in ten years, is leaving weird requests for me to draw on my car? The Bucky Barnes?”

He shrugs, “I like em, your drawings. You’re really good.” You scoff, rolling your eyes toward the sky, “I mean it! You are.”

You shake your head, unable to wipe the smile from your face, “Thanks. That’s, that’s really nice of you to say.”

“You’re welcome.” He says proudly, “You know, conversations work both ways. You haven’t said anything to me in ten years either.”

“Second grade, actually.” You agree, “You broke my purple crayon.” He throws his head back and laughs loudly, the sound of it making you smile in return. You made Bucky Barnes laugh. Pride swells in your chest.

“Holy shit, you still remember that?”

“Of course, I do!” You screech, “I loved that crayon! Purple is my favorite color. I’m still mad you about it, honestly.”

He throws his hands up, still chuckling, “I’ll buy you a new one. Okay? Will that squash it finally?”

You close your left eye and hum as you tilt your face toward the sky, pretending to think it over, “I dunno, man. That was a special purple crayon.”

“I’ll buy you a whole pack of crayons.” He smiles widely, “I’ll get you that sixty four pack, baby. You’ll be the talk of the town with that thing.”

You cover you face with your hands and laugh, “Oh, god.”

“Everybody will be so jealous of you. It’ll be so fetch.” He exaggerates, holding out his palms toward you as he stains his voice to reach a higher pitch. 

“You’ve clearly lost your mind.” You laugh.

“Hey, I’m just glad our ten year stalemate is over. I don’t know how much longer I could have lasted.”

The two of you share another laugh before it dissolves into silence. He still smiles at you, causing another large grin to break onto your face. You drop your head under his gaze, giggling stupidly as you tuck some hair behind your ear. Are you flirting right now? Is that what’s happening? What in fresh hell?

“So um, you should come to one of my games some time. Like, Friday night, maybe.” He says after a minute, nodding slowly. 

You click your tongue and nod with him, not really sure what to do or say, “I don’t know. I don’t know much about baseball.”

“That’s okay.” He shrugs, “We can get some pizza or something afterward. Or, french fries, since that’s all you eat.” 

You snap your eyes back to him. He wouldn’t know that unless he’s been watching you. Why is Bucky Barnes watching you? What is happening? This is definitely taking a turn that you did not expect.

“I mean,” He shrugs, shaking his head, “You don’t have to, I was just, I just, you know, it’d be cool or whatever, since we’re, you know, talking, or, whatever.”

“Um, yeah, okay. Yeah. That, that’d be, that could be cool.” You answer, nodding your head faster as you fumble over your words. 

Bucky smiles, running his hands through his hair, “Ok, cool. Cool. I guess, I'll see you Friday.”

“Well, aren’t you coming to class?” You ask, pointing your thumb toward the building behind you.

“Oh shit,” He laughs, “Yeah.”

He shoves his hands in his back pockets as the two of you start a slow stroll to your calculus class. You both end up being late and take a tongue lashing from Ms. Fertman as you take your seats. You scoot down in your chair, crack open your calculus book, and draw a giraffe driving a fire truck.

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[aboysbestfriendishismum]

Chapter 48 - Mistakes, fetishists and tongue-out faces

In the previous chapter: Eddie's on the phone with Angie and gets turned on by her voice; Angie has a nightmare about Chris Cornell and has a weird reaction when he shows up at the girls' apartment in search for food, he also gives Angie a package that was put in his mailbox by mistake; Angie finds out Eddie climbed up the Space Needle to take the light bulbs and sent one to her with a letter; Angie scolds Eddie on the phone for what he did, but she can't be fully mad at him; Angie's thinking about cutting her long doll-like hair short and changing her style.

**

“What the fu-” for a moment I think I got inexplicably blocked in when, after I turn off the tap, I stretch my hand with my eyes closed towards the shower door to open it and it doesn't move an inch.

It takes me a few seconds and too many attempts to push it to realize the problem is I gotta open it the other way, the opposite than the one in Seattle. 'Cause I'm not in Seattle, I'm in San Diego, I'm at home. I don't really feel at home though, it's like I'm on holiday, as if this was the umpteenth motel and not the place I planned to spend my future, at least the nearest future, with my ex girlfriend. The ocean, during the first surfing session half an hour ago, is more familiar to me than this place. Maybe it's really because of touring, being in a different place every time makes you lose your reference points. Maybe it's because I'm actually unconnected to this house somehow, after all I'had lived here for two or three months when I left to go to Seattle. And I didn't even have the time to make it more personal anyway, also because I was waiting to do it with Beth, so the decor is kinda neutral and impersonal. The only personal touches are the baseball cards on the fridge, the black and white picture of Pete Townshend flying mid air with his guitar I have in my bedroom and now that I think about it I really should take it back to Seattle with me, a cheap acoustic guitar placed against the couch, the basketball hoop I mounted in the back, the wetsuit hung to dry out on the porch, the dart board on the door. The little bit of personal I had in here is now part in the small bedroom and part in the living room of the apartment I share with Jeff and where I spent more time than I ever did in this house. Or maybe it's just because I've been here for just a couple of hours and I haven't met anyone of my friends yet. It's not the walls that make a house, but the people.

I throw the towels in the laundry basket and as I do I remember I've got a washing machine here and I won't need to go to Wash'n'Go to do the laundry, although the washing won't happen magically by itself and I'll still have to make an effort and put all the stuff into it, add soap and push a button. I walk into my room, put clean underwear and t-shirt on and as I'm thinking if my pants need to go into the washing machine too or I can give them another go, I hear the door bell ringing. I quickly promote my cargo bermuda for another round putting them on and run into the living room as I'm still zipping them up and I look through the shut mirror blinds to see who it is.

“I'm not a hot chick, but I hope you'll let me in all the same!” Craig exclaims looking towards the window.

“Why should I?” I ask him after I open the window.

“Because I have beer” he answers showing me the twelve-pack.

“I like your line of argument” I close the window and open the door to my friend. I don't like to call him best friend, I never use that word, it's not like I'm making charts or something, but he's surely one of my closest friends, and the oldest one, basically since childhood.

“I hate you” he shakes his head standing on the porch.

“I'm happy to see you too”

“You didn't wait for me” he complains pointing at the wetsuit hanging on the banister.

“You know I like to hit the beach early”

“You're an asshole,” he grumbles as he gets in “but I'm happy you're here” he adds giving me his hand and a not so light pat on my back before entering.

“I warn you, I've got no food” I point out when I see him making a bee line to the fridge.

“Jamie will take care of that later, after work, don't worry” he explains placing the beer in the lowest compartment of the fridge.

“Chinese?”

“Of course. And his brother's coming too. Huh and Mitch will surely be here too with her college mate. And then I don't know, someone else”

“You set it all up huh?”

“And your band?”

“They must be chilling at the hotel right now, they'll join us later”

“Great. What about your girlfriend?” he asks directly as he sits down on the couch.

“My girlfriend?” I walk towards the window and roll up the blinds completely, as if I was expecting for her to show up all of a sudden knocking on my door.

“Yeah, where is she?”

“God, I don't know, I haven't met her yet. She surely didn't come to tell me welcome back, honestly I hope I won't met her even by chance”

“Hehe weren't you all for zen now?”

“Yes, but if I don't see her I'll be better” I basically inspect the whole neighborhood from the window, then join Craig on the couch.

“Anyway who cares about Beth, I don't wanna know about the ex girlfriend, I was talking about the new one”

“The new one?” I give him a side look as I immediately figure out where he's getting at.

“Yeah... what's her name... mmm it's on the tip of my tongue””

“Angie”

“HA! See? She's your girlfriend then!”

“Hehe no, she's not”

“You literally just said her name”

“I only realized you meant her, I didn't say that-”

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Where is she?”

“In Seattle”

“In Seattle? And when is she coming?”

“I have no idea, I don't even know if she's coming, she might not”

“What do you mean? Didn't you ask her?”

“Sure I asked her”

“How the fuck did you ask her?”

“Hahaha what? What do you mean how? I asked her, I asked her to come to California”

“Ok, but how? How did you tell her? Which words did you use?”

“What does it matter?”

“It matters a lot, what did you tell her, Ed?”

“I told her it would be cool if she came see us play live in this west coast tour”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Why?”

“Is that what you told that girl?”

“Maybe I didn't use the word cool but-”

“You're an idiot”

“Hahaha why?”

“She'll never come here”

“Did I say something wrong”

“Mind you, I wouldn't have come over today either if you asked me like that”

“Ok, just tell me then, what should I have said to her instead?”

“Uhm I don't know, what about I miss you, I want to see you?”

“Tsk sure”

“Why don't you come here to San Diego? You can stay at my place, so we can spend some time together”

“Jesus Christ”

“Eddie?”

“And that said, she'd just run for the hills back to Idaho” Angie's behaviour can be confusing sometimes, I can't understand if she's just trying to buy time or she really doesn't understand I like her, but the truth is I'm more for the second option. If I told her something like that though, there wouldn't be any possibility of misunderstanding and she'd be forced to deal with the matter and deal with my feelings. And she'd take it bad. And she'd end up ditching me and keeping the distance like she did with that Dave guy...

“That's what you think!” Craig retorts.

“Because I know, I know her”

“Fine. Can I see her at least?”

“Sure, you'll meet her if you come to Seattle”

“Did you accidentally try to be funny?”

“What? No” I sincerely reply, I don't know what he means.

“Come on! Show me”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Don't even try to convince me you don't have a picture of this girl because I won't believe you”

“Uhm... no... I don't think I have any...”

“Don't waste my time, come on”

“Wait, let me check, but I don't think so...” I take my notepads from the small table beside the couch and quickly run through the pages.

“Take your time, I'm not in a hurry” he adds placing one of the throw pillows behind his head and making himself more comfortable on the couch and at this point I figure out he won't give up until he sees her. I stand up and walk towards the big table, I stick one hand in the pocket of my corduroy jacket that's hanging on one of the chairs and pull out my wallet. I take three polaroids from the wallet and quickly examine them before picking the one I'm less jealous of.

“You're lucky, I just happened to have one”

“You just happened to have one in your wallet, huh? Let me see” Craig appears behind my back like a true ambush and steals the photograph from my hands before I can complain and goes sitting on the edge of the table.

“I didn't even remember I had it...” I blatantly lie as I put the wallet into the back pocket of my pants.

“Yeah, sure. Anyway... uhm, not bad” he remarks without taking his eyes off the picture and I suddenly realize how fragile the concept of less jealous is.

“You can't really see her features because she's pulling a face and sticking out her tongue” I point at Angie's face on the picture and right now I wish that tongue out face would hide something more.

“No no, I can see them, I can see she's pretty, very pretty” he insists.

“Well, yeah”

“I can see everything” I'm gonna kill this guy.

“Ok give it back to me” I try and grab it, but he moves away.

“I can also see where it was taken”

“I took it when she gave me the polaroid camera as a birthday present” I try once again, in vain.

“IN A BED, THAT'S WHERE YOU TOOK IT!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“She's clearly lying on a fucking bed! Hats off to you, Ed. I'm here giving you advice, but you're way beyond that, my friend!

“It's not a bed, it's the back seat of her car”

“ALL THE BETTER!”

“Shut up, you jerk!”

“Well done, Ed, I underestimated you” he gives me another couple of heavy pats on the back and I finally manage to take my polaroid picture back.

“We were just playing around”

“I can imagine... spare me the details about the games you were playing though, ok?”

“There were no games! I wanted to test the camera, but she didn't want to have her picture taken” I explain putting the photo back in its place.

“Hey you don't owe me any explanation, you're a grown up man now” he makes fun of me trying to pinch me on the cheek, I push him down from the table.

“Nothing happened”

“And when will you make something happen?”

“Come on, let's go get some waves” I answer as I take my shoes from beside the cupboard.

“Didn't you go before?” he gives me a questioning look.

“I'd do anything to make you shut the fuck up”

**************************************************************************************************************************

Love is in the Hair says the writing on the beauty salon's window, circled by a cloud of red and pink small hearts. I'd like to know what Angie thinks about this wordplay. I get in and I'm welcomed by the smile of the girl behind the counter.

“Good morning! Do you have an appointment?” she asks opening a drawer and pulling out a big book with a dark blue cover. Only when she opens it and I notice some numbers I realize it's an appointment calendar.

“No, ehm, I mean, yeah. I'm Meg's friend, Kaminski... Grace”

“Oh yes! She's in the store room in the back, I go call her right now” she winks at me and quickly gets away who knows where.

I hang my jacket and scarf on the rack at the entrance and look around. They opened a few minutes ago and there are already two women at the backwash sinks, a girl who's having her nails done and another who's getting a candy pink substance, which I guess is wax, spread over her lips.

“Hey, you got ahead of time! What happened?” I turn around and see Meg walking up to me, together with the girl I met before, holding some kind of blue robe in her hands.

“Yeah, I know, I know, I'm surprised myself”

“You can give me your bag if you want”

“Yes, thank you” my bag goes from my hands to Meg's first and then the other girl's, who places it in a locker behind her back and then closes it immediately. As I follow these movements with my eye, Meg makes me wear this sort of light kimono and fastens it with the belt.

“So, what do you wanna do? How long do I cut?” Meg goes on as she gestures for me to follow her to the sinks.

“Not too much, I just wanna take some weight off, get a lighter look”

“Uhm what about this long? Maybe with some layers?” she asks taking one lock of my hair between her fingers and indicating a short length.

“Yes, that's perfect. Also an inch more is ok, not too much though”

“Ok, what about the color?” she adds and has me sitting on the backwash armchair.

“Always brown, but darker than this, I want something warmer, a warmer shade” I explain as she places a towel over my shoulders, sticking it under the collar of my shirt.

“No dramatic style change to surprise Stone when he comes back?” she asks as I tilt my head backwards and as I look up I can see her witty smile.

“No, I'd rather not risk not being recognized”

“Hahaha that's a bit of an exaggeration”

“Well, we've been dating for such a short time...” we've basically just started dating and he's already away with the band, I don't think I need to do something like changing my looks so he doesn't get bored easily, he has yet to get to know my looks.

“Stone's crazy for you and knows you by heart, I don't think there's an actual risk, he'd recognize you even if you shaved your hair and tatooed your whole face”

“I'd rather not risk it though” the hot water on my head starts to have a relaxing effect.

“How are things between you?”

“Well, like they usually go between two persons who're not in the same place and aren't seeing each other”

“Ok, but you talked on the phone, right?”

“Yeah, sometimes”

“Sometimes?”

“Well, once every couple of days, more or less”

“I'd say it's more than sometimes. Who calls who?”

“Oh well, he usually calls me, I mean, he's always called, also because they're continuously moving. I feel bad a little, I suggested he could give me the number of each new place they're at or to make a collect call, but he told me to fuck off each time with a different sarcastic joke”

“He's a real gentleman”

“Hehe yeah”

“It's serious then...” she insists with this kind of investigation and the massage my head is getting with soft foam and hot water is extremely relaxing, but not enough to make me spill the beans.

“Mmm maybe, I don't know, it's too early too tell”

“Ok, but he really seems to be into you, doesn't he? And you? What do you feel?”

“Wow, hehe, this... this is a very good question”

“That's supposed to have a very simple answer”

“I like him, I like him a lot and I'm happy with him. But we don't actually know each other well yet, you know, we should spend some more time together to figure out if it can work or not” I use a very nice turn of phrase because ok, Meg studied psychology, but I don't wanna be her patient right now, I'm good with being one of her customers at the beauty salon.

“Oh... OH! I get it now!” she exclaims, interrupting the massage for a moment, then starting back in a slightly more vigorous way “You still haven't... you know...”

“No, I didn't... I didn't mean that! Even though, actually...”

“Well, you'll have time for that, when the guys are back”

“Sure” I answer trying to hide my embarrassment keeping my eyes closed. She accidentally found out one of the reasons of my anxiety. It's always the same story, recurring every time I start hanging out with a new guy and I should have got used to that, but maybe I'll never do. I'll never get used to starting all over again, getting to the point of taking your clothes off and showing your true self and having to give the usual explanations, hoping he won't run away disgusted or worse, pretend everything's alright and turn off the light right away. Once again I'm at the beginning of a relationship and I'm torn between the will to make it grow, to live it up and fully enjoy it, and the wish to never get out of this initial phase, to remain for ever, or at least as long as I can, in this preliminary limbo made of dates, kisses, jokes, looks and phone calls, without thinking about when I'll have the talk with him.

“Maybe if Stone doesn't take the initiative, you should” she says interrupting the stream of my thoughts, as she's starting to rinse off.

“It's not a matter of initiative, and I'm ok with not rushing into anything, I prefer things that way” the longer the fucking wait is, the better.

“And that's because it's serious for you, I was right! Conditioner?”

After having my hair washed, I'm diverted to another chair for the hair cut. The magazine I find in front of the mirror and that I start to go through gives us some very interesting subjects to discuss, most of all subjects that are not Stone Gossard, like the prodigious method to speed up your metabolism in four weeks, America's dream mansions, the plot of the latest episodes of Good Sports accompanied by a backstage photo set of Farrah and Ryan, the latest boot trends. While Meg starts working on my hair with brush and hairdryer, one of her colleagues, a very beautiful 30 something blond woman, walks up to me dragging a cart that makes so much noise.

“Can I do your hands now, while Meg dries your hair?” she asks and without waiting for an answer she takes my left hand and places it on the cart, right on a towel that's rolled up into a sausage shape. She sits beside me and starts checking my nails, then takes some kind of small napkin, pours something that smells like disinfectant on it and uses it to wipe my hand. She then takes my right hand and repeats the whole sequence with the other hand too. It's the first time I do this in my life and seeing how tense I am, I guess everybody figured it out here.

“What do you think? We spiced up your hairstyle a little but nothing too dramatic” Meg catches my attention and only now I realize she turned off the hairdryer and she's now spraying my hair with something that smells very good.

“Oh my god, yes! Thank you, Meg, it's really what I wanted” and strangely enough I'm sincere. I usually leave the hairdresser's with embarrassingly big fluffy hair I can't wait to wash again at home, but not today: I'm really satisfied this time.

“Do you want a pedicure too?” my enthusiasm is killed by the question asked by Meg's colleague.

“NO!”

“Are you sure? I'm gonna sign you up for our discount card” Meg chimes in trying to reassure me, but price is not my problem.

“No, it's not for that, it's just... well, I'm very very ticklish and I don't really like people touching my feet, no I hate it, it's a fixation. I'm weird, I know, hehe” I try and play the paranoid card to drop the subject quickly.

“She's basically the opposite of Mr Footsie” the woman winks at Meg, who pulls a disgusted face.

“Who's Mr Footsie?” I ask curious.

“A dirty pig” Meg replies.

“A customer,” her colleague retorts “a very kind and polite one, who always leaves generous tips”

“A filthy animal who usually has Samantha do him the pedicure” Meg gives more accurate information, also revealing the name of her colleague.

“He never did anything inappropriate”

“Apart from his dick getting hard when you massage his feet” one of the two ladies having her hair done looks suddenly outraged, the other one acts normally as she didn't hear what we're talking about.

“Hahaha that's not sure! And anyway, even if it really happened, that'd be an involuntary reaction, he can't control it”

“And every fucking time, as soon as Sam is done, he asks to use the restroom. Bleargh!”

“Maybe he just needs to go!”

“Yeah, sure. Come on, he goes there to jerk off, that's so evident!”

“Oh shit” I laugh out loud.

“How do you know?”

“I can say it from the happy relaxed face he has when he comes to pay” the girl at the counter answer in Meg's place.

“He must be one of those... dudes... what are they called... foot fetishists” lady number two remarks as one of the hairdressers is blowing dry her bangs.

“But those usually get turned on looking at other people's feet, not when people touch theirs” Samanta points out.

“It's the same thing, it's always about feet” the customer insists.

“Not exactly, the typical foot fetishism is about submission, that guy's just a fucking perv” Meg explains and we all nod apart from lady number one, who pretends not to listen and focuses on a copy of Vanity Fair.

“So, are you satisfied with your haircut?” Meg asks again, trying to drop the subject.

“No colored locks?” her colleague smiles as she works on my fingernails with a file.

“Hahaha no, Grace is a nice girl, she's not some thug like Angie”

“Angie? You dyed her hair?”

“Yeah, she stressed me out and in the end I gave in. I just did highlights though, but she had it cut a lot”

“Blue and purple highlights” Samantha adds.

“You cut her precious mane?!”

“She wanted it shorter than yours, she got crazy. In the end we found a compromise on a less dramatic change, but it's still a big change...”

“Well, it means she needed to change... and maybe she wanted to impress someone” I suggest referring to Eddie.

“Hehe I don't think she needs to impress any more, the guy's already been captured” Meg moves a big round mirror behind me so that I can see the back of my head too.

“But the guy doesn't come out about his feelings” I remark as my hands are put into a bowl of lukewarm water.

“What if I told you the guy somehow revealed his feelings?”

“That somehow is not ok with Angie, it leaves room for doubts”

“Somehow only because Angie's stupid, any other person would have understood he was confessing his feelings. I don't wanna gossip, but we're talking about a present and a letter, the message was clear”

“Was the message I love you, I wanna be with you?”

“Hehe no, not so explicit”

“I understand Angie then. Eddie's trying, but he's ambiguous. He should talk straight, speak his mind. I can understand being cautious, test the waters at the beginning, but at some point you gotta put your cards on the table, especially when you see the other person doesn't get your messages between the lines”

“Ok, but if none of the two wakes up we can go on for years. If he doesn't, then she has to do something” Meg walks away towards a hot pink curtain in a corner, simply slips a hand through it and pulls out a broom, then comes back up to me.

“Sure, I agree with you. What I'm saying is that this deadlock is probably convenient to him too, maybe he's taking time, maybe he's not so sure or has doubts”

“The only doubt I can concede him is because of the age gap. And because Jeff could beat him up if he fucks up with Angie. Apart from that, I can't see why he should have doubts” she explains as she collects my cut hair from the floor.

“Well, whatever his doubts might be, he must make up his mind and act on it. If he's not sure being with Angie's a good idea, well, he should leave her alone, but if he decides to go for it, he should do it once and for all!”

“I agree!” exclaims Samantha, as she arranges a series of files and sticks on the cart.

“Well, this could be the perfect occasion” Meg suggests as she scoops the hair in a dustpan.

“Do you think she's already landed by now?”

“Nah, it's too early”

*************************************************************************************************************************************

“I'll starve for a few months, but it was worth it” I tell myself as soon as I leave the airport and I find myself alone with my backpack in a sunny boulevard lined with palm trees. Is there a more Californian image than this one? Had I taken the bus, I'd have spent one third of the money, but it'd have taken me like twenty hours to get to San Diego. Instead, after a peaceful, comfortable, less than three hour long flight, I'm already here. There's an endless line of taxi cabs outside the terminal, but first I need to figure out if I need one or not. I sneak into a phone booth and call the operator to ask for the address of Winter's, the place the guys are playing at tonight, that luckily for me Eddie mentioned. After that, I look up El Cajon Boulevard on the map of San Diego I've just bought at a kiosk. It's not exactly close. It's not close at all, it must be more than ten miles from here. I do need a cab.

I admit it's not the best plan: hanging around the club until someone I know shows up. Anyway, it was the only plan I could arrange without asking too much information to anybody, so that the Mookie guys won't suspect anything. Considering it's one o'clock in the afternood I hope there's at least a coffee shop near the club where I can crawl into waiting for someone to show up for soundcheck. The sea, well the ocean actually, is only visible for a short stretch of road, in the proximity of a port, then we turn towards the inland. The taxi driver is a middle-aged man with red cheeks and a funny smile. I hope he's not drunk. He asks me some questions just to do some conversation, but he's not intrusive. He compliments me for my hair. I feel it strange, I feel strange, lighter, more uncovered, which is not bad considering I'm starting to sweat with my leather jacket on. Thank god I followed Meg's advice and didn't bring my coat. I take off my jacket, I remain with the rainbow striped sweater and I immediately feel better, although in this cab with no air conditioning I'd feel good with a short sleeved shirt too. I roll down the car window a little and even though I'm looking outside, I'm not really focused on the landscape changing before my eyes. My thoughts are all on what will the guys' reaction be as soon as they see me and all the different variations of the same scene, going from the hooting and hollering for surprise and joy to the complete indifference, from them making fun of me for my little change of style to their eyes telling me something like What the hell did you came here alone for? And Eddie? What do I expect from him? I'm here speculating about what he'll do and say to me, and maybe he won't even have time to give me attention because he'll be here with his friends. I don't know what to expect and this makes me anxious, why did I have to get out of my comfort zone right now? What do I want to prove? That I'm capable of climbing up my personal Space Needle and overcome my insecurities? By now I've only proven I can take a plane. And a cab.

I get to the address, pay the driver and take a look around. The club is so small it takes me some time to spot its sign among all the others. This boulevard is anything but isolated, it's full of life and business, other clubs, bars, restaurant and diners, supermarkets, various shops, even a mattresses shop, just from here I can see at least three auto repair shops and two funeral parlors. I instinctively try to pull my sweater up to cover my shoulder, which obviously remains uncovered all the same, I cross the road to reach the club and as I get closer I recognize the small billboard hanging outside the entrance of the location that represents the Facelift album cover. When I'm close enough though, I see something's wrong, although I don't immediately realize what it is, I mean I sense something's out of place, but I only notice it after a few long seconds. The writing says: FEB 13 ALICE IN CHAINS. February 13th? But today it's the 12th, 13th is tomorrow. They're playing tonight, I'm sure about it, Eddie told me: 'The 12th we're still in San Diego', that's what he said... No, wait a minute, actually he said 'Wednesday the 12th' … but he got confused because today it's Tuesday, well, I gave for granted that he had confused the day of the week. But what if the mistake was the date number?

Shit.

What if it's a mistake by the club? Mmm not likely. The problem is, if they're playing tomorrow what the fuck do I do? First of all, I have to change the date of the return flight, if I can, then what? What do I do? Where do I camp? How do I let them know I'm here? Because I gotta let them know. But why didn't I just stay in Seattle? Why does Eddie have no sense of time? As I'm growing more and more paranoid I look down, right under the billboard picture, and the whole situation gets surreal: WITH PEARL JAM.

Who the fuck is Pearl Jam?