I appreciate the support.hugs, Tas
for Splitscreen:
for The Bitter Dregs:
and Runner-up for the following:
Best Lead Portrayal of Michael Guerin - Full Circle
Best Fluff Fic - Splitscreen
Splitscreen (AU,M/L,ADULT) AN,pg11 - 9Jan06 {WIP}
Moderators: Anniepoo98, ISLANDGIRL5, truelovepooh, Forum Moderators
Merry Christmas to everyone! And a big thank you for the awards in this round. I appreciate the support.
hugs, Tas
for Splitscreen:
for The Bitter Dregs:
and Runner-up for the following:
Best Lead Portrayal of Michael Guerin - Full Circle
Best Fluff Fic - Splitscreen
I appreciate the support.hugs, Tas
for Splitscreen:
for The Bitter Dregs:
and Runner-up for the following:
Best Lead Portrayal of Michael Guerin - Full Circle
Best Fluff Fic - Splitscreen
"Fan fiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk."
~Henry Jenkins
~Henry Jenkins
And Happy Boxing Day, too! 
I am on a roll. 
Thanks for all the lovely comments, guys.
hugs, Tas
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
*****NEW Chapter 17*****
A shower is an amazing thing. It does more than cleanse your body; it can lift your spirits and make you feel like yes, you really can face the day and whatever it might throw at you. Even when you’re using somebody else’s bathroom.
Of course, there’s also the level of personal satisfaction that what I was washing off were the aftereffects of multiple naked, sweaty tangles. But that just means I’ll have to repeat the activities and get sweaty again, and on goes the cycle.
I like that thought.
As I make my way down the hall from the men’s room, I’m glad that Maria lives in a co-ed dorm. I feel conspicuous enough wandering around here without being the only guy around. But I was not about to stick around in the apartment after such a clear order—and reason—to scram, so I grabbed some stuff, Liz found Maria’s keys, and here we landed in Maria’s dorm. It seems only fair, since Michael stayed here last night so Liz and I could have privacy. I’m pretty sure Maria made him sleep in her absent roommate’s bed, though.
Gotta smile as I think that she won’t make him do that next time.
And try not to lose the smile at the thought that Iz and Alex went back to Isabel’s dorm room. You like Alex, Evans. He’s an excellent match for your sister. I sigh internally. Yeah, I do, and he is, but she’s still my sister and she’s not as strong as Maria. So while I won’t interfere, I’m still going to watch and worry. Privately.
I shake off the moodiness as I knock on the door and Liz calls out, “Come in!” Locking it behind me, I just stand and watch her for a moment while she applies some kind of lip product in front of the mirror. She didn’t bother to blowdry her hair so the shining length is darker than ever with moisture, with some drying pieces waving around her face.
“You are so beautiful.”
She starts in surprise, turning to face me. “What?”
I smile, dropping my things onto the desk on the far side of the door. “I mean it, Liz. You take my breath away.”
“I’m sure me being back in my own clothes helps,” she giggles, indicating her jeans and baby tee.
“Hmm, yes and no. There was definitely something erotic about seeing you in my clothes,” I admit.
“Oh? I guess it’s a good thing that you’re not getting your T-shirt back, then.” She flutters her lashes coyly as she looks up at me, her hands slipping onto my shoulders.
“No, huh? I guess it’s a good thing that I shouldn’t be wearing it anyway.”
“Definitely,” she agrees. Her head tilts to the side quizzically. “Max, why are you staring at me like that?”
It’s her lipgloss. I’m used to the stuff being shiny, sure, but it looks like she’s got tiny crystals painted onto her lips. “Is that glitter?”
She nods. “Yeah, it has microcrystalline glitter in it. Why, do you not like it? I can take it off.”
My quick headshake has her lowering her hand with a smile. “No, it’s okay, I just never noticed that before.” I laugh at a resurfacing memory. “Glitter was forbidden in our house after this one time when Isabel thought that because it was so pretty, she should upend the container over herself when she’d just had a bath. It took my mother hours to get it out of her hair, and we were still finding stray sparkles months later. The stuff sticks around like you wouldn’t believe.”
“It does, does it?” Liz’s smile acquires a quality that is at once thoughtful and thoroughly naughty. My stomach flipflops in response and I hear myself exhale harshly. She hears it too, and it obviously makes her mind up about whatever she’s considering.
By the time I realize what that is, she has my jeans unzipped and my erection freed, and then her dark head bobs as she takes me in her mouth.
“Oh, sweet mercy,” I murmur faintly. I can see her cheeks hollowing as her lips slide down my length, and the suction feels sublime.
I can also see the trail she’s leaving. Pink glitter covering my most sensitive skin, a blatant advertisement that I’ve had someone’s mouth on me. With every pass she makes from the tip on down, that glitter is spread further onto my cock, into my skin. Burned into my sensory memory.
My head thuds back against the door in answer to the actions of the angel at my feet, hands clenching at my sides. Liz has shocked me deliciously and the intensity of it threatens to overwhelm me fast.
Someone chooses that moment to pound on the door. “DeLuca! Close the fucking window before you freeze us all out again! I can hear the door rattling in the wind.”
Liz sits back, trying not to laugh as she calls, “Okay!”
The unknown person leaves, apparently satisfied with that answer. But the momentum has been lost and now I feel a bit ridiculous with my pants gaping and a sparkly cock.
I make a move to do up my fly and she places her hands over mine, stopping me. “Max, sit down.” She points with her chin at the foot of the bed, which reaches practically to the doorway in the smallish room.
I sit. Liz turns on her knees to face me, still smiling. Her gaze travels up my body and she murmurs, “Can you take off your shirt?”
Apparently she’s not finished with me yet. Despite my vague discomfort, I nod and begin to pull the longsleeved polo over my head. It’s about halfway off, blocking my vision, when I feel my pants tugged in the other direction and before I know it, I’m sitting there stark naked in front of her.
I have the urge to sit like a little kid who really needs to pee, with my knees pressed together and my hands in my lap. Except Liz’s hands are cupping my calves, idly stroking, and those big eyes of hers are trained on mine with a wicked glow.
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Then lie down.”
Definitely not finished. I feel very, very exposed as I lean back until I’m flat against the mattress, and beyond grateful that I just took a shower. At least I know I don’t smell funky. But really, a beautiful girl who I’m madly in love with wants to play with me, and I’m going to say no? Not a fucking chance!
She slips her hands up and around my knees, gently pushing them farther apart. Part of me wants to resist the outward movement, and part of me can’t wait to find out what she’ll do next. I wonder if she can tell how tense I am from anticipation and nerves both.
The first touch of her mouth is tentative, like she’s less sure of herself than she seems. Nonetheless my reaction is immediate, my knee tingling hot and cold from the kiss and my cock returning to fully erect. I glance down at Liz but all I can see is a wealth of dark hair; my own perpendicular flesh is in the way. So when her lips skim a little higher, moving slowly inward on my thigh, I swallow and close my eyes, abandoning myself to sensation.
Liz glides her hands up ahead of her mouth, pressing lightly with just her fingertips. Instinctively I spread my legs wider, noting absently the change from feeling like I should cover myself. Now I want to open to her, and there’s a sense of longing—yearning, even—with each touch.
She bypasses my groin, her palms flattening up against my ass and kneading while her lips take soft nibbles of my inner thighs. Damp tendrils of her hair whisper along my skin as she switches back and forth and it makes me shiver.
“Your hands are nice and warm,” I blurt out inanely.
“Mmm,” she hums in agreement. “Ran them under hot water before I came back to the room.”
“Uh-huh.” I clear my throat, feeling her smile on my leg. Does that mean she planned this? Or some kind of bedplay, anyway? Admittedly I’d been hoping after the interruption earlier, but…
Any chance of thinking too hard about what it might mean flees as Liz wiggles her head in tight and licks my testicles. I don’t know if I’m more surprised that she did that, or that it feels really good.
I clench my hands in the blanket in response to her light licks and then, gently, she pulls one into her mouth and sucks.
“Damn, that’s amazing,” I mutter, only half-aware that I’m speaking. The care she’s taking reassures me and I relax into her caresses.
It’s not that I don’t trust her, because I do. It’s that she’s dealing with the most sensitive area of a guy’s body, and one wrong move could put me in a world of pain. Isabel used to laugh about kneeing us when we were younger, until we neared puberty and Michael finally retaliated with purple nurples. A man can die if he’s hit too hard in the nuts.
But I’m learning fast that this sensitivity thing works the other way, too, as Liz continues to lavish attention on my balls. Her fingers stroke where her mouth can’t reach, one nail scratching at the smooth skin underneath, and my hips buck up a little.
“Angel,” I whisper mindlessly. Her other hand plays with the line of hair down my abdomen, and her lips are almost at the base of my erection. She licks a trail around and puffs warm air across the wetness.
“So close.” She scratches a little harder and moves her head over to where my thigh meets my pelvis, biting at the taut skin.
I’m well beyond noticing that I’m pleading with her. “Just a little higher, Liz. Over—over more, almost…so close…”
Her tongue returns to the immediate vicinity and I can hardly stand it. I’m strung out on a wire here and I need her to touch me.
“Angel, please!”
I hear a low moan and it’s coming from her. Astonished, I open my eyes and look down.
“You have the sexiest voice, Max.”
Before I can even begin to digest that comment, I watch her open her mouth and take me, her gaze locked on mine. I break the eye contact as my body arches helplessly into the sudden heat. And as she pulls back, her hair flying, she tightens her lips around the head of my cock and sucks really hard.
“Oh Christ, Liz, I can’t—” Pleasure crashes through me in a rush so intense it almost hurts and I jerk in ecstasy, unable to stop the release.
I feel lightheaded and weak-kneed, hearing the blood pounding in my ears and the deep rasp of my breathing as I try to get myself under control. Never having been teased before, I wasn’t expecting to go off like a firecracker thirty seconds after she finally touched my cock. I figured I’d be able to endure at least one pass, especially after all the action I’ve gotten in the last twenty-four hours, but the feelings Liz engenders in me are simply too strong.
Forcibly calming my body, I start to sit up. “I’m sure Maria has tissues somewhere—Liz?”
Her expression is one of intent curiosity, and I watch in horror as her Adam’s apple dips down and back up. I gasp out, “What are you doing?”
Her eyes pop open and she smiles at me. “Having a tasty experience.”
I think I feel the blush right down to my toes. “But, you shouldn’t have…”
“Swallowed?” she inquires with a raised eyebrow.
“Yeah. We don’t know—”
Liz moves in close, pressing a finger against my lips to silence me. “Max, why did you make love to me last night?”
I stare at her, at a total loss for words. She seems to realize that and rolls her eyes slightly. “That’s not exactly the right question. What I mean is, why did you make love to me last night, instead of last weekend? I know you wanted to, and your own personal motivations would presumably have been the same, so why did you wait?”
Puzzled, because I thought that she’d understood my explanations this morning, I answer, “Because I didn’t know then if it would hurt you.”
She nods encouragingly. “And what changed your mind?”
“I found out that things weren’t as I’d thought, and it would be okay.”
“And?”
I feel like I’m being led by the hand and I should know where we’re going, but I don’t. “And what?”
She laughs, the sound indulgent, and reaches up to cradle my face. Holding my gaze with hers, she clearly enunciates, “You are not a danger to me, Max.”
“Oh,” I reply softly. “But—”
“No but’s,” Liz shakes her head emphatically. “You do not endanger me. Not your saliva, not your sweat, not your blood, not your semen in either my throat or my vagina. Nothing about you will compromise my physiology.” Her voice softens. “Not even if you heal me.”
I have absolutely nothing to say to that, because as the words flow from her I realize that they are all true. And that I didn’t know where she was going with her first hints because even with all that’s happened, I haven’t let myself believe that such a place is possible.
“Liz.” It’s all I say, but I try to pour everything I’m feeling into that single syllable, all the relief and joy and yes, love. She must hear it since her eyes well with tears but her smile doesn’t falter, and she leans forward just as I do, our lips meeting in sweet tenderness.
It doesn’t matter that I’m naked and she’s dressed, or that her knees probably ache from the industrial carpet, or that we’re holed up in someone else’s dormitory to escape the spectacle of our best friends having sex.
It only matters that she’s here, and we’re together, and that this is one of the most perfect moments in my life.
I am on a roll. Thanks for all the lovely comments, guys.hugs, Tas
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
*****NEW Chapter 17*****
A shower is an amazing thing. It does more than cleanse your body; it can lift your spirits and make you feel like yes, you really can face the day and whatever it might throw at you. Even when you’re using somebody else’s bathroom.
Of course, there’s also the level of personal satisfaction that what I was washing off were the aftereffects of multiple naked, sweaty tangles. But that just means I’ll have to repeat the activities and get sweaty again, and on goes the cycle.
I like that thought.
As I make my way down the hall from the men’s room, I’m glad that Maria lives in a co-ed dorm. I feel conspicuous enough wandering around here without being the only guy around. But I was not about to stick around in the apartment after such a clear order—and reason—to scram, so I grabbed some stuff, Liz found Maria’s keys, and here we landed in Maria’s dorm. It seems only fair, since Michael stayed here last night so Liz and I could have privacy. I’m pretty sure Maria made him sleep in her absent roommate’s bed, though.
Gotta smile as I think that she won’t make him do that next time.
And try not to lose the smile at the thought that Iz and Alex went back to Isabel’s dorm room. You like Alex, Evans. He’s an excellent match for your sister. I sigh internally. Yeah, I do, and he is, but she’s still my sister and she’s not as strong as Maria. So while I won’t interfere, I’m still going to watch and worry. Privately.
I shake off the moodiness as I knock on the door and Liz calls out, “Come in!” Locking it behind me, I just stand and watch her for a moment while she applies some kind of lip product in front of the mirror. She didn’t bother to blowdry her hair so the shining length is darker than ever with moisture, with some drying pieces waving around her face.
“You are so beautiful.”
She starts in surprise, turning to face me. “What?”
I smile, dropping my things onto the desk on the far side of the door. “I mean it, Liz. You take my breath away.”
“I’m sure me being back in my own clothes helps,” she giggles, indicating her jeans and baby tee.
“Hmm, yes and no. There was definitely something erotic about seeing you in my clothes,” I admit.
“Oh? I guess it’s a good thing that you’re not getting your T-shirt back, then.” She flutters her lashes coyly as she looks up at me, her hands slipping onto my shoulders.
“No, huh? I guess it’s a good thing that I shouldn’t be wearing it anyway.”
“Definitely,” she agrees. Her head tilts to the side quizzically. “Max, why are you staring at me like that?”
It’s her lipgloss. I’m used to the stuff being shiny, sure, but it looks like she’s got tiny crystals painted onto her lips. “Is that glitter?”
She nods. “Yeah, it has microcrystalline glitter in it. Why, do you not like it? I can take it off.”
My quick headshake has her lowering her hand with a smile. “No, it’s okay, I just never noticed that before.” I laugh at a resurfacing memory. “Glitter was forbidden in our house after this one time when Isabel thought that because it was so pretty, she should upend the container over herself when she’d just had a bath. It took my mother hours to get it out of her hair, and we were still finding stray sparkles months later. The stuff sticks around like you wouldn’t believe.”
“It does, does it?” Liz’s smile acquires a quality that is at once thoughtful and thoroughly naughty. My stomach flipflops in response and I hear myself exhale harshly. She hears it too, and it obviously makes her mind up about whatever she’s considering.
By the time I realize what that is, she has my jeans unzipped and my erection freed, and then her dark head bobs as she takes me in her mouth.
“Oh, sweet mercy,” I murmur faintly. I can see her cheeks hollowing as her lips slide down my length, and the suction feels sublime.
I can also see the trail she’s leaving. Pink glitter covering my most sensitive skin, a blatant advertisement that I’ve had someone’s mouth on me. With every pass she makes from the tip on down, that glitter is spread further onto my cock, into my skin. Burned into my sensory memory.
My head thuds back against the door in answer to the actions of the angel at my feet, hands clenching at my sides. Liz has shocked me deliciously and the intensity of it threatens to overwhelm me fast.
Someone chooses that moment to pound on the door. “DeLuca! Close the fucking window before you freeze us all out again! I can hear the door rattling in the wind.”
Liz sits back, trying not to laugh as she calls, “Okay!”
The unknown person leaves, apparently satisfied with that answer. But the momentum has been lost and now I feel a bit ridiculous with my pants gaping and a sparkly cock.
I make a move to do up my fly and she places her hands over mine, stopping me. “Max, sit down.” She points with her chin at the foot of the bed, which reaches practically to the doorway in the smallish room.
I sit. Liz turns on her knees to face me, still smiling. Her gaze travels up my body and she murmurs, “Can you take off your shirt?”
Apparently she’s not finished with me yet. Despite my vague discomfort, I nod and begin to pull the longsleeved polo over my head. It’s about halfway off, blocking my vision, when I feel my pants tugged in the other direction and before I know it, I’m sitting there stark naked in front of her.
I have the urge to sit like a little kid who really needs to pee, with my knees pressed together and my hands in my lap. Except Liz’s hands are cupping my calves, idly stroking, and those big eyes of hers are trained on mine with a wicked glow.
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Then lie down.”
Definitely not finished. I feel very, very exposed as I lean back until I’m flat against the mattress, and beyond grateful that I just took a shower. At least I know I don’t smell funky. But really, a beautiful girl who I’m madly in love with wants to play with me, and I’m going to say no? Not a fucking chance!
She slips her hands up and around my knees, gently pushing them farther apart. Part of me wants to resist the outward movement, and part of me can’t wait to find out what she’ll do next. I wonder if she can tell how tense I am from anticipation and nerves both.
The first touch of her mouth is tentative, like she’s less sure of herself than she seems. Nonetheless my reaction is immediate, my knee tingling hot and cold from the kiss and my cock returning to fully erect. I glance down at Liz but all I can see is a wealth of dark hair; my own perpendicular flesh is in the way. So when her lips skim a little higher, moving slowly inward on my thigh, I swallow and close my eyes, abandoning myself to sensation.
Liz glides her hands up ahead of her mouth, pressing lightly with just her fingertips. Instinctively I spread my legs wider, noting absently the change from feeling like I should cover myself. Now I want to open to her, and there’s a sense of longing—yearning, even—with each touch.
She bypasses my groin, her palms flattening up against my ass and kneading while her lips take soft nibbles of my inner thighs. Damp tendrils of her hair whisper along my skin as she switches back and forth and it makes me shiver.
“Your hands are nice and warm,” I blurt out inanely.
“Mmm,” she hums in agreement. “Ran them under hot water before I came back to the room.”
“Uh-huh.” I clear my throat, feeling her smile on my leg. Does that mean she planned this? Or some kind of bedplay, anyway? Admittedly I’d been hoping after the interruption earlier, but…
Any chance of thinking too hard about what it might mean flees as Liz wiggles her head in tight and licks my testicles. I don’t know if I’m more surprised that she did that, or that it feels really good.
I clench my hands in the blanket in response to her light licks and then, gently, she pulls one into her mouth and sucks.
“Damn, that’s amazing,” I mutter, only half-aware that I’m speaking. The care she’s taking reassures me and I relax into her caresses.
It’s not that I don’t trust her, because I do. It’s that she’s dealing with the most sensitive area of a guy’s body, and one wrong move could put me in a world of pain. Isabel used to laugh about kneeing us when we were younger, until we neared puberty and Michael finally retaliated with purple nurples. A man can die if he’s hit too hard in the nuts.
But I’m learning fast that this sensitivity thing works the other way, too, as Liz continues to lavish attention on my balls. Her fingers stroke where her mouth can’t reach, one nail scratching at the smooth skin underneath, and my hips buck up a little.
“Angel,” I whisper mindlessly. Her other hand plays with the line of hair down my abdomen, and her lips are almost at the base of my erection. She licks a trail around and puffs warm air across the wetness.
“So close.” She scratches a little harder and moves her head over to where my thigh meets my pelvis, biting at the taut skin.
I’m well beyond noticing that I’m pleading with her. “Just a little higher, Liz. Over—over more, almost…so close…”
Her tongue returns to the immediate vicinity and I can hardly stand it. I’m strung out on a wire here and I need her to touch me.
“Angel, please!”
I hear a low moan and it’s coming from her. Astonished, I open my eyes and look down.
“You have the sexiest voice, Max.”
Before I can even begin to digest that comment, I watch her open her mouth and take me, her gaze locked on mine. I break the eye contact as my body arches helplessly into the sudden heat. And as she pulls back, her hair flying, she tightens her lips around the head of my cock and sucks really hard.
“Oh Christ, Liz, I can’t—” Pleasure crashes through me in a rush so intense it almost hurts and I jerk in ecstasy, unable to stop the release.
I feel lightheaded and weak-kneed, hearing the blood pounding in my ears and the deep rasp of my breathing as I try to get myself under control. Never having been teased before, I wasn’t expecting to go off like a firecracker thirty seconds after she finally touched my cock. I figured I’d be able to endure at least one pass, especially after all the action I’ve gotten in the last twenty-four hours, but the feelings Liz engenders in me are simply too strong.
Forcibly calming my body, I start to sit up. “I’m sure Maria has tissues somewhere—Liz?”
Her expression is one of intent curiosity, and I watch in horror as her Adam’s apple dips down and back up. I gasp out, “What are you doing?”
Her eyes pop open and she smiles at me. “Having a tasty experience.”
I think I feel the blush right down to my toes. “But, you shouldn’t have…”
“Swallowed?” she inquires with a raised eyebrow.
“Yeah. We don’t know—”
Liz moves in close, pressing a finger against my lips to silence me. “Max, why did you make love to me last night?”
I stare at her, at a total loss for words. She seems to realize that and rolls her eyes slightly. “That’s not exactly the right question. What I mean is, why did you make love to me last night, instead of last weekend? I know you wanted to, and your own personal motivations would presumably have been the same, so why did you wait?”
Puzzled, because I thought that she’d understood my explanations this morning, I answer, “Because I didn’t know then if it would hurt you.”
She nods encouragingly. “And what changed your mind?”
“I found out that things weren’t as I’d thought, and it would be okay.”
“And?”
I feel like I’m being led by the hand and I should know where we’re going, but I don’t. “And what?”
She laughs, the sound indulgent, and reaches up to cradle my face. Holding my gaze with hers, she clearly enunciates, “You are not a danger to me, Max.”
“Oh,” I reply softly. “But—”
“No but’s,” Liz shakes her head emphatically. “You do not endanger me. Not your saliva, not your sweat, not your blood, not your semen in either my throat or my vagina. Nothing about you will compromise my physiology.” Her voice softens. “Not even if you heal me.”
I have absolutely nothing to say to that, because as the words flow from her I realize that they are all true. And that I didn’t know where she was going with her first hints because even with all that’s happened, I haven’t let myself believe that such a place is possible.
“Liz.” It’s all I say, but I try to pour everything I’m feeling into that single syllable, all the relief and joy and yes, love. She must hear it since her eyes well with tears but her smile doesn’t falter, and she leans forward just as I do, our lips meeting in sweet tenderness.
It doesn’t matter that I’m naked and she’s dressed, or that her knees probably ache from the industrial carpet, or that we’re holed up in someone else’s dormitory to escape the spectacle of our best friends having sex.
It only matters that she’s here, and we’re together, and that this is one of the most perfect moments in my life.
"Fan fiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk."
~Henry Jenkins
~Henry Jenkins
Thanks for the comments, guys. Got snowed in with a nor'easter today, so in between the shovelling (oh joy 
) I got some writing done. So, Happy New Year's?!
hugs, Tas
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
*****NEW Chapter 18*****
“Maxwell, why is your dick reflecting light?”
I glance over to see Michael staring at me. We’re in the movie theater bathroom; after one of those monstrously long bio-epic films, all six of us needed to use the facilities. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch movement and notice that Alex is also now staring at me. Great, I’m surrounded by perverts.
“Do you guys mind?” I hiss, leaning closer to the urinal.
“Look, I only broke protocol because I saw something shiny, man,” Michael explains hastily.
Alex tries to choke back a laugh, and it comes out as a high-pitched giggle instead. We both whip around to look at him.
“Looks like Max has a bad case of sparkle cock!”
Michael hoots with laughter and Alex stops holding back the howls. I smile ruefully. At least I’m finished here and can cover up the evidence.
“I tried everything I could think of to get rid of it,” I admit, soap dribbling into my palm to be lathered away. “I even pulled out that loofah Maria left, which by the way I do not recommend using on your crotch unless you like pain, but the frigging glitter is still there.”
“Ah, Max,” Michael drawls, laying an arm across my shoulders like he’s a wise elder. “You need to use the same stuff Liz would use: makeup remover.”
“Seriously? That’ll work?”
“Yup,” Alex confirms.
“Should I ask her for some?”
“Fuck, no,” Michael laughs. “The bottle of hydrogen peroxide under the sink at home? That’s actually makeup remover. The industrial kind, that takes off waterproof shit.”
Now Alex and I are staring at Michael. He shrugs, unconcerned. I figure I’m on a roll here as far as information-gathering is concerned, and I can’t possibly get any more embarrassed after having two guys checking me out while I piss, so now seems like a good time to pose a question.
“What do you do if she tells you she thinks your voice is sexy?” Liz’s remark from yesterday still baffles me, but it seems like I should be able to use it somehow.
“Your voice?” Michael responds, surprised. He shakes his head. “Takes all kinds, I guess. I’ve never been told that myself.”
“You’re not exactly a big talker at the best of times, Mike,” I retort.
Alex chuckles. “Max, it’s not that complicated. You expand your vocabulary a little and talk dirty to her. If you do it right, she’ll be soaking wet before you even touch her.”
“No way,” Michael refutes. I can feel my eyebrows raising in similar disbelief.
“Oh, way, my friend. Don’t start out too dirty, though, Max. She has to really be into it before you drop stuff like ‘cunt’ in her ears.”
Christ, what about my ears? I can’t believe I’m hearing this from Alex! Granted, I don’t know him all that well, but Maria is always going on about what a sweet person he is. Obviously she’s never seen this side of him.
“And this works for you?” Michael wants to know.
He laughs. “Look, you have your rough-edged, bad boy, ‘tame me’ thing. Max has a body most women would kill to get their hands on, and he’s a romantic to boot. Me, I make do with what I’ve got: a brain, a sense of humor, and the ability to talk myself into and out of anything. An ability I’ve worked hard to expand and master, I might add.”
“So, do you talk girls into bed often?” I interject, because it dawns on me that the guy giving me sex advice here is the same one who’s quasi-dating my sister. Michael catches my drift and we both frown.
Alex looks back and forth, his eyes widening. He starts to step back but then his chin comes up and he glares right back at us. “I tend to be a serial monogamist, actually. I’ve had a few one-nighters but never while I’m with someone.” One side of his mouth lifts in a smile. “You can relax, I’m not out to hurt Isabel. She’s…different.” His tone gentles, with a sound almost of wonder, and I do relax because I know that note, and so does Michael, because we’re all playing the same tune.
Michael shakes his head with a smirk. “Jesus, let’s get out of here before Max starts to cry or something.”
“Gee, thanks,” I toss sarcastically, but I laugh with them as we go to meet the girls.
When we pile into one of the round booths at the coffehouse, we look like couples, just like we did last week. Except now we really are double-dating. Or triple-dating, I guess, seeing Izzy laugh at something Alex says to her and bump shoulders with him.
“You going to purr tonight, Max?” Maria asks with a grin.
“Better watch it, Mare, his claws might come out!” Michael guffaws.
“He only purrs in private.” Liz jumps in before I can say anything, and I shoot an incredulous look at her. She laughs, and so does everyone else. The conversation turns to other things and she kisses my cheek in apology, using the opportunity to whisper in my ear.
“I’ll bet I could find a way to stroke you that would make you purr.”
Oh, damn, she likes to play dangerous. Butterflies unfold in my stomach as I nuzzle her back, thinking about what Alex said. It’s a little cliché but what the hell, she started it.
“Yeah, but I’d rather listen to you purr while I stroke your pussy. Preferably with my tongue.”
She sucks in a sharp breath as I return to a normal sitting position, and when I glance over at her, her eyes are huge. Go me, I’ve shocked her. God only knows if I’ve also turned her on, but since she didn’t slap me and she’s not moving away, at least I didn’t turn her off.
We talk and laugh over coffee and dessert like any group of friends, and it occurs to me that I’m having a really good time. Three of us are aliens, and three of us are humans who know the truth, yet we’re all here together with no real sign that anything is weird about this conglomeration of people. I think it’s the most normal I’ve ever felt.
As the night draws to a close, someone brings up the topic of our imminent return to Roswell for the holidays.
“Well, I wrote my last exam today—which I aced, thank you very much—and I had the latest one of all of us,” Isabel offers. “We’re planning to leave tomorrow morning and drive home, Michael, Max and me.”
Maria nods. “Yeah, we were supposed to leave yesterday but since Mom sent Alex to get us instead of coming up herself, we had some leeway.” She grins at Alex, who stands up and bows. “But we should go in the morning, too.”
No one wants to ask about tonight, and we all kind of avoid everyone else’s gaze. Michael finally snorts in disgust.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake. Alex, you sleep at Isabel’s. Maria and I will be at her dorm, and Max and Liz can have the apartment. You girls can drag your shit over to our place in the morning and we’ll figure out who’s going in what car then. That kosher with everyone?”
Relieved laughter and nods greet this assertion and we settle the bill.
On the way out, I nearly run someone down as she comes in the door. Catching her quickly, I realize with some surprise that I know this woman. And I keep knocking her down.
“Hi, Christine. I should have known it’d be you.”
She giggles. “Yeah, you do seem to not notice me until you smack into me.”
I wince exaggeratedly. “Sorry about that. Um, everyone, this is Christine, from my poetry class. You know Michael and Maria, that’s my sister Isabel and Alex, our friend from back home. And this,” my hand tightens on Liz’s, hoping I’m not about to make a mistake, “this is my girlfriend, Liz.”
Christine’s eyes light up with genuine pleasure and she reaches to shake Liz’s hand. I’m too chicken to look at Liz as Christine says, “Congratulations. You must be pretty special, no one else has had any luck with this one.”
Liz laughs. “Probably because he was mine before he even got here.”
I feel giddy as relief swims through me. Liz squeezes my hand in return, and a grin appears on Christine’s face.
“I thought so. I’m sure the deodorant didn’t hurt, though, eh?” Her eyes twinkle at me. “It was lovely to meet you, Liz. Take care of this big guy. See you in class, Max.”
She excuses herself, and I see her embrace some guy in the coffeehouse before they sit down, both smiling. I can’t help the smile stretched across my own face. Nice girl, she needs someone who can care about her the way she deserves, which was never going to be me.
Because like Liz just said, I’ve been taken for a long time.
“What was she talking about, deodorant, Max?” Maria inquires. Michael’s already started laughing.
“Never mind. It’s a long story, and I swear she was acting in an Isabel-type capacity,” I dispel any doubts and sling an arm around Liz as we all troop outside.
Liz smiles up at me. “Girlfriend, huh?”
“Yes.” Please.
Her smile deepens and she snuggles closer. “Good call.”
Got snowed in with a nor'easter today, so in between the shovelling (oh joy ) I got some writing done. So, Happy New Year's?! hugs, Tas
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
*****NEW Chapter 18*****
“Maxwell, why is your dick reflecting light?”
I glance over to see Michael staring at me. We’re in the movie theater bathroom; after one of those monstrously long bio-epic films, all six of us needed to use the facilities. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch movement and notice that Alex is also now staring at me. Great, I’m surrounded by perverts.
“Do you guys mind?” I hiss, leaning closer to the urinal.
“Look, I only broke protocol because I saw something shiny, man,” Michael explains hastily.
Alex tries to choke back a laugh, and it comes out as a high-pitched giggle instead. We both whip around to look at him.
“Looks like Max has a bad case of sparkle cock!”
Michael hoots with laughter and Alex stops holding back the howls. I smile ruefully. At least I’m finished here and can cover up the evidence.
“I tried everything I could think of to get rid of it,” I admit, soap dribbling into my palm to be lathered away. “I even pulled out that loofah Maria left, which by the way I do not recommend using on your crotch unless you like pain, but the frigging glitter is still there.”
“Ah, Max,” Michael drawls, laying an arm across my shoulders like he’s a wise elder. “You need to use the same stuff Liz would use: makeup remover.”
“Seriously? That’ll work?”
“Yup,” Alex confirms.
“Should I ask her for some?”
“Fuck, no,” Michael laughs. “The bottle of hydrogen peroxide under the sink at home? That’s actually makeup remover. The industrial kind, that takes off waterproof shit.”
Now Alex and I are staring at Michael. He shrugs, unconcerned. I figure I’m on a roll here as far as information-gathering is concerned, and I can’t possibly get any more embarrassed after having two guys checking me out while I piss, so now seems like a good time to pose a question.
“What do you do if she tells you she thinks your voice is sexy?” Liz’s remark from yesterday still baffles me, but it seems like I should be able to use it somehow.
“Your voice?” Michael responds, surprised. He shakes his head. “Takes all kinds, I guess. I’ve never been told that myself.”
“You’re not exactly a big talker at the best of times, Mike,” I retort.
Alex chuckles. “Max, it’s not that complicated. You expand your vocabulary a little and talk dirty to her. If you do it right, she’ll be soaking wet before you even touch her.”
“No way,” Michael refutes. I can feel my eyebrows raising in similar disbelief.
“Oh, way, my friend. Don’t start out too dirty, though, Max. She has to really be into it before you drop stuff like ‘cunt’ in her ears.”
Christ, what about my ears? I can’t believe I’m hearing this from Alex! Granted, I don’t know him all that well, but Maria is always going on about what a sweet person he is. Obviously she’s never seen this side of him.
“And this works for you?” Michael wants to know.
He laughs. “Look, you have your rough-edged, bad boy, ‘tame me’ thing. Max has a body most women would kill to get their hands on, and he’s a romantic to boot. Me, I make do with what I’ve got: a brain, a sense of humor, and the ability to talk myself into and out of anything. An ability I’ve worked hard to expand and master, I might add.”
“So, do you talk girls into bed often?” I interject, because it dawns on me that the guy giving me sex advice here is the same one who’s quasi-dating my sister. Michael catches my drift and we both frown.
Alex looks back and forth, his eyes widening. He starts to step back but then his chin comes up and he glares right back at us. “I tend to be a serial monogamist, actually. I’ve had a few one-nighters but never while I’m with someone.” One side of his mouth lifts in a smile. “You can relax, I’m not out to hurt Isabel. She’s…different.” His tone gentles, with a sound almost of wonder, and I do relax because I know that note, and so does Michael, because we’re all playing the same tune.
Michael shakes his head with a smirk. “Jesus, let’s get out of here before Max starts to cry or something.”
“Gee, thanks,” I toss sarcastically, but I laugh with them as we go to meet the girls.
When we pile into one of the round booths at the coffehouse, we look like couples, just like we did last week. Except now we really are double-dating. Or triple-dating, I guess, seeing Izzy laugh at something Alex says to her and bump shoulders with him.
“You going to purr tonight, Max?” Maria asks with a grin.
“Better watch it, Mare, his claws might come out!” Michael guffaws.
“He only purrs in private.” Liz jumps in before I can say anything, and I shoot an incredulous look at her. She laughs, and so does everyone else. The conversation turns to other things and she kisses my cheek in apology, using the opportunity to whisper in my ear.
“I’ll bet I could find a way to stroke you that would make you purr.”
Oh, damn, she likes to play dangerous. Butterflies unfold in my stomach as I nuzzle her back, thinking about what Alex said. It’s a little cliché but what the hell, she started it.
“Yeah, but I’d rather listen to you purr while I stroke your pussy. Preferably with my tongue.”
She sucks in a sharp breath as I return to a normal sitting position, and when I glance over at her, her eyes are huge. Go me, I’ve shocked her. God only knows if I’ve also turned her on, but since she didn’t slap me and she’s not moving away, at least I didn’t turn her off.
We talk and laugh over coffee and dessert like any group of friends, and it occurs to me that I’m having a really good time. Three of us are aliens, and three of us are humans who know the truth, yet we’re all here together with no real sign that anything is weird about this conglomeration of people. I think it’s the most normal I’ve ever felt.
As the night draws to a close, someone brings up the topic of our imminent return to Roswell for the holidays.
“Well, I wrote my last exam today—which I aced, thank you very much—and I had the latest one of all of us,” Isabel offers. “We’re planning to leave tomorrow morning and drive home, Michael, Max and me.”
Maria nods. “Yeah, we were supposed to leave yesterday but since Mom sent Alex to get us instead of coming up herself, we had some leeway.” She grins at Alex, who stands up and bows. “But we should go in the morning, too.”
No one wants to ask about tonight, and we all kind of avoid everyone else’s gaze. Michael finally snorts in disgust.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake. Alex, you sleep at Isabel’s. Maria and I will be at her dorm, and Max and Liz can have the apartment. You girls can drag your shit over to our place in the morning and we’ll figure out who’s going in what car then. That kosher with everyone?”
Relieved laughter and nods greet this assertion and we settle the bill.
On the way out, I nearly run someone down as she comes in the door. Catching her quickly, I realize with some surprise that I know this woman. And I keep knocking her down.
“Hi, Christine. I should have known it’d be you.”
She giggles. “Yeah, you do seem to not notice me until you smack into me.”
I wince exaggeratedly. “Sorry about that. Um, everyone, this is Christine, from my poetry class. You know Michael and Maria, that’s my sister Isabel and Alex, our friend from back home. And this,” my hand tightens on Liz’s, hoping I’m not about to make a mistake, “this is my girlfriend, Liz.”
Christine’s eyes light up with genuine pleasure and she reaches to shake Liz’s hand. I’m too chicken to look at Liz as Christine says, “Congratulations. You must be pretty special, no one else has had any luck with this one.”
Liz laughs. “Probably because he was mine before he even got here.”
I feel giddy as relief swims through me. Liz squeezes my hand in return, and a grin appears on Christine’s face.
“I thought so. I’m sure the deodorant didn’t hurt, though, eh?” Her eyes twinkle at me. “It was lovely to meet you, Liz. Take care of this big guy. See you in class, Max.”
She excuses herself, and I see her embrace some guy in the coffeehouse before they sit down, both smiling. I can’t help the smile stretched across my own face. Nice girl, she needs someone who can care about her the way she deserves, which was never going to be me.
Because like Liz just said, I’ve been taken for a long time.
“What was she talking about, deodorant, Max?” Maria inquires. Michael’s already started laughing.
“Never mind. It’s a long story, and I swear she was acting in an Isabel-type capacity,” I dispel any doubts and sling an arm around Liz as we all troop outside.
Liz smiles up at me. “Girlfriend, huh?”
“Yes.” Please.
Her smile deepens and she snuggles closer. “Good call.”
"Fan fiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk."
~Henry Jenkins
~Henry Jenkins
from Chapter 18
Because like Liz just said, I’ve been taken for a long time.
“What was she talking about, deodorant, Max?” Maria inquires. Michael’s already started laughing.
“Never mind. It’s a long story, and I swear she was acting in an Isabel-type capacity,” I dispel any doubts and sling an arm around Liz as we all troop outside.
Liz smiles up at me. “Girlfriend, huh?”
“Yes.” Please.
Her smile deepens and she snuggles closer. “Good call.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
*****NEW Chapter 19*****
“Hey Liz!”
“Yeah, Michael?” She turns to face him, grinning at her from the open passenger side window of the Jetta.
“When you make him purr, get it on tape for me.”
“Yeah, sure,” she laughs, and Maria takes off down the street while we go into my building. I glance sideways at Liz and she laughs again. “I wouldn’t do that, Max. Well,” she reconsiders, “I wouldn’t give it to Michael, anyway. It’d be for my own personal use.”
The intonation she gives ‘personal’ leaves no doubt what she means and I stifle a groan as we enter the apartment.
“So you didn’t mean it, then.” I want a little more reassurance; the idea of my brother with that kind of blackmail material is too horrific to contemplate.
“Of course not.” She kicks off her shoes and looks at me shyly, biting her lip. “Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?” I don’t think I’ve said anything noteworthy since the girlfriend bit. “That I consider you my girlfriend? Yeah.” She smiles, seeming nervous still as I turn away to hang up my jacket.
“That’s great but um, I meant about what you said at the Cocoaberry. You know, about my—about me.”
I do an internal freeze, followed immediately by a slow burn of my own nerves and need, uncurling in my center. This is my chance to see whether it truly affected her or not.
Moving in close, I keep eye contact with Liz, wanting to see even the minutest flicker of reaction. “Are you asking if I want to lick you?”
Her chest heaves convulsively and her eyes never leave mine as she whispers, “Yes,” blushing the slightest amount.
Holy shit, Alex was right. Liz is totally aroused.
I rub my cheek against hers and suck on her ear lobe, being careful not to swallow her earring. “I do, angel. Right like this.” I demonstrate on the shell of her ear, tracing the delicate swirls with my tongue and dipping inside.
She moans, her hands coming up to tangle in my hair. I’m starting to really get into this and I run my hands up and down her sides, outlining her curves, while I kiss and nip at her neck.
“I want to taste you and feel your skin quiver under my mouth. Bury my face in you until you’re all I can smell and your breath comes fast and hard and your thighs tremble against my head.” I sound ragged and hoarse as I keep murmuring to her, the words and accompanying images turning me on as much as Liz.
I cup her bottom and pull her hard against me, and she lets out a sharp cry. “God, Max! Take your pants off.”
“What?”
She’s tearing at my clothes and I help her then we both work hers off. “I’ve been waiting for you all day and I can’t wait anymore. You’re driving me fucking crazy.”
Hearing the F-word in her throaty voice slams right into my gut with a burst of fire. “Christ, Liz, just let me get a—”
She shakes her head, a violent ‘no.’ “I’ve been on the pill for years and you can’t hurt me. Max!”
Protest overridden, I lift her up and her legs wrap automatically around my waist as I find her soaked entrance and thrust inside. Her ass bounces against the wooden door but I don’t think either of us cares.
“You’re amazing, so hot and beautiful,” I groan.
Liz lets a small giggle escape, but it’s not really a happy sound. “Right.”
“You are,” I insist, raining kisses all over her face while I pump steadily inside her. “Everything about you gets me hot.”
“I can’t believe that after all this time, I really have you,” she pants between frantic kisses.
“You do, you absolutely do,” I promise, driving harder as the pleasure mounts. “I’m yours, Liz, I swear it.”
She meets my gaze and there’s a moment where it all slows and narrows to the emotion shining in her face, matched in my heart, and I know she feels it too because her eyes widen like she’s had a revelation. “Max, I—oh, Max!”
The siren call of her orgasm proves impossible to resist and I shudder, feeling each contraction of her body squeezing me dry. “Liz, angel.”
We find ourselves leaning into each other, foreheads touching, momentarily spent. My cock is softening inside Liz and I know the carpet’s probably getting wet where I’m standing but I couldn’t care less.
At length she giggles. “Well that was different. Who was that, again?”
I laugh with her, feeling an edge of near hysteria. “If I find out, I’ll let you know.”
Liz laughs harder, and so do I. Next thing I know I’m staggering backwards away from the front hall, carrying her, and we land in a heap on the living room floor, practically crying with laughter.
“Oh,” she groans. “My rear end is sore where I hit the doorknob a few times.”
“Poor baby. Here, let me fix it.” I place my hand on her left butt cheek and suddenly it’s not so funny anymore. I search her face, seeking permission that this is okay.
She smiles luminously. “Yes, please. Since it’s your fault and all.”
My own smile returns and I can’t resist teasing, “Hey, be glad it was the door and not the stuccoed wall.”
“Good point. Are you going to kiss it and make it better or what, buddy?” she teases back.
That’s an interesting idea, actually. Liz squeals as I pick her up and carry her to my room, tossing her face down on the bed. “Max! What are you doing?”
“Kissing it better.”
I grab her as she tries to wriggle away, laughing. “Max, don’t you dare!”
But I do dare, and she shrieks when my lips make contact with her backside. It’s hard to kiss someone when you’re trying not to laugh. I manage, though, and soon Liz gentles enough for me to begin using my powers.
I skim lightly across her rounded skin, sending a delicate tracery of energy to float down into her tissue and repair any potential bruising before it can appear. She squirms a bit, her legs moving restlessly, but I don’t stop touching her when I’m finished healing her.
I can’t.
“Surely it doesn’t take this long for a little sore spot,” she murmurs huskily.
“No, I’m done with that. Just not with you.” I press a smile to her hip.
“How do you keep doing that?”
“What, kissing your ass? I’m getting very fond of it.”
She giggles. “Goof. Not that. How do you keep turning me on so effortlessly?” The last word is muffled as she encircles her head with her arms, undoubtedly concealing a blush.
“I could ask you the same thing, angel.”
She moves an arm down and cranes her neck, trying to see me. “Yeah?”
“Oh, yeah,” I admit feelingly.
“Maybe it’s synergy.”
This time I repress the smile at the curious tone of her voice. “How so?” I ask as neutrally as I can.
“Well, you turn me on, and that turns you on, which turns me on more, and so on and so forth until it’s bigger than the both of us and we end up having sex against the front door because we can’t wait a second longer.”
She sounds so damn speculative that I just start to laugh, and she heaves a big sigh. “Maaaaax, I’m being serious here!” Unfortunately her own little giggle gives it away.
“I can be serious,” I assure her, tamping it down, and I reach one hand up between her legs. “In fact, I am completely serious when it comes to your arousal.”
“Oh,” Liz replies breathlessly. She’s still wet and I feel the addition of new moisture as I slip my fingers inside. “That’s…oh, that feels good.”
Her hips circle slightly, lifting to meet my hand, and like that I’m flooded with desire again. Synergy, indeed.
I return to my oral travels, moving lower now, closer to where I’m establishing a rhythm, and lick across the back of her thigh where it joins the curve of her buttock.
Liz moans, and it’s a very different sound from all our laughter but no less welcome. She pulls up onto her knees, thrusting her hips back at me, and I forget how to breathe for the stunning presentation in front of me, beckoning.
I can feel my cock hardening to the point almost of pain, aching to take her right like this. But she’s not the only one who’s had other things on her mind all night, so instead I grit my teeth, withdraw my hand and issue an order. “Turn over.”
She inhales rapidly, the air whistling through her teeth, and then flips onto her back. I groan at how eagerly she spreads her legs for me and plunge my tongue into her. There’s no chance to be unsure, to wonder if I’m good at this. It is a biologically choreographed symphony in my blood and some part of me older than conscious thought knows exactly how to please Liz.
In what seems like no time at all, she’s shuddering and crying out, her hips bucking up against my face. It’s messy and sticky and I have to keep pulling back so she doesn’t smother or injure me with the force of her motion. And I love every uninhibited, musk-scented second of it.
I’m in control this time.
When at last she quiets, her toes continue to flex against my ribcage and her legs retain a certain amount of tension. Maybe she’s not finished?
“Do you want me to keep going?”
Liz emits a short giggle. “I don’t know.”
Okaaay. “I can guess why you’d say to stop, so what’s making you maybe want to keep going?” I bring my hand up while I talk and start rubbing gently. While I’m definitely willing to try for a repeat, I don’t think I can do it the same way. I’m discovering that oral sex is kind of an endurance sport and I don’t have enough practice in yet to last through a double header.
She shifts under my caresses. “I mean I did, but I feel like…like I ended up right back on the edge, you know? Like I could—never mind, you probably want to just—”
“Whoa, stop right there, Liz. I’m all for helping you experience as many orgasms as possible. I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t hoping for a yes.”
“Really?” She lifts up on her elbows and looks at me.
“Hell, yes,” I assure her emphatically. In fact, I’m quickly becoming addicted to making Liz come. It could be my new main hobby in life.
Liz laughs, relaxing. “Well okay then! Um, a little higher and to the right—my right,” she tells me as she lies back down.
To her right, that’s my left. I move in that direction slowly, halting when she gasps, “There.”
“Right there?” I inquire, pressing a little harder.
“Yes!”
I am never going to tire of hearing that word from her. I stick to the appointed spot, feeling her hips begin to circle and push up against my fingers. I reach up, under her leg, and close my other hand over her breast, tugging lightly at her nipple, while I plant kisses along her abdomen.
Liz moans, and I love that sound, too. I glance up and notice how tightly she has her eyes closed.
“Fantasizing about something?” I ask her, surprised that the idea turns me on.
She shakes her head choppily. “No. Just feeling. Everything you’re doing to me.” Her breath hitches when I pull harder on her stiffened nipple, sending a bolt of lust through my own body at the clear cause-and-effect reaction. “It’s a little late to be nervous about you looking at me, but I can’t look while you are. It’s too weird.”
I have to chuckle at that. I sort of know what she means, because it does feel really intense, but at the same time I could have watched her mouth on my cock for hours yesterday, assuming I could have lasted that long. Guess it’s one of those male/female things. “I’m glad you’re okay with me looking at you, because I love seeing you like this, Liz. All wet and wild.”
A shaky laugh greets that statement, followed by an indrawn breath when I put a little more pressure on her drenched skin. I can’t help myself anymore; I keep talking, alternating words and skimming kisses along the smooth line of her stomach.
“I’ve fantasized about this for a long, long time, Liz. What it would be like to touch you so intimately. To kiss you and hold you, run my hands over your bare skin.” I dip my tongue in her navel, hearing how her breathing grows ever more ragged and her moans throaty and low. Long.
“What you would taste like, and if I would ever be able to get enough once I knew.” We have a rhythm going now, me lifting up to make way for the thrust of her hips as she winds tighter and tighter. I squeeze her breast and roll the nipple between my fingers, then go for broke.
“What it would feel like to fuck you.”
Her eyes pop open in surprise and at the same moment, release hits her and she cries out, arching. Her legs working, pushing her body against my hand and I don’t stop, can’t stop, until Liz comes to a shuddering halt, thoroughly satiated.
She lies bonelessly across my bed, her hair tangled wildly and her body flushed and glistening. I rise onto my knees between her widespread legs and clamp my hands on her hips, pulling her to me. She slides easily, her expression still dazed, and I slip inside her slowly, so slowly, feeling her slick passage take hold of the head of my cock, and now I stop.
Liz’s eyelashes flutter as I ease out of her and then repeat my actions, starting an achingly slow series of shallow penetrations that frustrate and delight me both. It feels so fucking good. I watch as I slide in and out, in and out, her moisture coating my skin until we gleam together and only the movement tells me where my flesh ends and hers begins.
“Max, what are you…I need…” she murmurs huskily, trying to meet my thrusts. I have a good grip on her, though, and hold her pelvis steady, continuing the torturous pace.
“All in good time, angel. I want this to last.”
“But…”
“Just be patient with me, Liz.” She subsides at that and I lean over, my tongue flickering over her nipple before I pull it into my mouth and suck, gently biting. I can’t avoid slipping a little father inside her but I stay still, simply stretching her, and the yearning sound she makes gives rise to fire in my blood.
When I sit back up, I resume the slow, shallow thrusts even though my own body is beginning to urge me on. I don’t question the impulse to string this experience out, to bring Liz to a point where all she knows is the feel of my cock just barely inside her and the need for me to fill her completely.
It begins the same way, with her hips attempting to lift and her legs wrapping around me, pulling me towards her. I’m a lot bigger and stronger than her, plus I have positional advantage, and the pulling gets her nowhere. Neither does plucking at my hands on her hips. She’s getting frustrated now, the slow, constant friction sensitizing both of us. All her limbs move restlessly and she never stops trying to thrust, the motion totally instinctive.
Next come the verbal entreaties and I swear I never knew I could stand against that. That sexy rasp calling my name, asking me to make love to her.
When her feet land on my shoulders, pushing frantically, and I look down to see the whole long, glorious line of her body spread out in front of me, her head tossing, tangled hair crackling around her, while her hands grasp at me needily and her voice pleads, then, then I finally let go.
I lean forward, catching myself on my hands, and thrust deep. Liz arches with a choked cry and her hands clutch at my back. I feel her fingernails ripping down the length of my torso and I gasp for air at the primal sensation, pumping harder. Nothing has ever felt like this. I never imagined anything could feel this good.
“Max, Max, Max, Max!” She almost chants it, over and over, and I answer her, our names blending into a mindless litany that drives us both over the edge.
“Liz!” She convulses around me and I groan, spilling endlessly, buried deep inside her. And it’s then that I realize, with a swell of warmth and a poignancy on the verge of tears, what the mad whirl of color I’ve been seeing is.
Flashes.
.
Because like Liz just said, I’ve been taken for a long time.
“What was she talking about, deodorant, Max?” Maria inquires. Michael’s already started laughing.
“Never mind. It’s a long story, and I swear she was acting in an Isabel-type capacity,” I dispel any doubts and sling an arm around Liz as we all troop outside.
Liz smiles up at me. “Girlfriend, huh?”
“Yes.” Please.
Her smile deepens and she snuggles closer. “Good call.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
*****NEW Chapter 19*****
“Hey Liz!”
“Yeah, Michael?” She turns to face him, grinning at her from the open passenger side window of the Jetta.
“When you make him purr, get it on tape for me.”
“Yeah, sure,” she laughs, and Maria takes off down the street while we go into my building. I glance sideways at Liz and she laughs again. “I wouldn’t do that, Max. Well,” she reconsiders, “I wouldn’t give it to Michael, anyway. It’d be for my own personal use.”
The intonation she gives ‘personal’ leaves no doubt what she means and I stifle a groan as we enter the apartment.
“So you didn’t mean it, then.” I want a little more reassurance; the idea of my brother with that kind of blackmail material is too horrific to contemplate.
“Of course not.” She kicks off her shoes and looks at me shyly, biting her lip. “Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?” I don’t think I’ve said anything noteworthy since the girlfriend bit. “That I consider you my girlfriend? Yeah.” She smiles, seeming nervous still as I turn away to hang up my jacket.
“That’s great but um, I meant about what you said at the Cocoaberry. You know, about my—about me.”
I do an internal freeze, followed immediately by a slow burn of my own nerves and need, uncurling in my center. This is my chance to see whether it truly affected her or not.
Moving in close, I keep eye contact with Liz, wanting to see even the minutest flicker of reaction. “Are you asking if I want to lick you?”
Her chest heaves convulsively and her eyes never leave mine as she whispers, “Yes,” blushing the slightest amount.
Holy shit, Alex was right. Liz is totally aroused.
I rub my cheek against hers and suck on her ear lobe, being careful not to swallow her earring. “I do, angel. Right like this.” I demonstrate on the shell of her ear, tracing the delicate swirls with my tongue and dipping inside.
She moans, her hands coming up to tangle in my hair. I’m starting to really get into this and I run my hands up and down her sides, outlining her curves, while I kiss and nip at her neck.
“I want to taste you and feel your skin quiver under my mouth. Bury my face in you until you’re all I can smell and your breath comes fast and hard and your thighs tremble against my head.” I sound ragged and hoarse as I keep murmuring to her, the words and accompanying images turning me on as much as Liz.
I cup her bottom and pull her hard against me, and she lets out a sharp cry. “God, Max! Take your pants off.”
“What?”
She’s tearing at my clothes and I help her then we both work hers off. “I’ve been waiting for you all day and I can’t wait anymore. You’re driving me fucking crazy.”
Hearing the F-word in her throaty voice slams right into my gut with a burst of fire. “Christ, Liz, just let me get a—”
She shakes her head, a violent ‘no.’ “I’ve been on the pill for years and you can’t hurt me. Max!”
Protest overridden, I lift her up and her legs wrap automatically around my waist as I find her soaked entrance and thrust inside. Her ass bounces against the wooden door but I don’t think either of us cares.
“You’re amazing, so hot and beautiful,” I groan.
Liz lets a small giggle escape, but it’s not really a happy sound. “Right.”
“You are,” I insist, raining kisses all over her face while I pump steadily inside her. “Everything about you gets me hot.”
“I can’t believe that after all this time, I really have you,” she pants between frantic kisses.
“You do, you absolutely do,” I promise, driving harder as the pleasure mounts. “I’m yours, Liz, I swear it.”
She meets my gaze and there’s a moment where it all slows and narrows to the emotion shining in her face, matched in my heart, and I know she feels it too because her eyes widen like she’s had a revelation. “Max, I—oh, Max!”
The siren call of her orgasm proves impossible to resist and I shudder, feeling each contraction of her body squeezing me dry. “Liz, angel.”
We find ourselves leaning into each other, foreheads touching, momentarily spent. My cock is softening inside Liz and I know the carpet’s probably getting wet where I’m standing but I couldn’t care less.
At length she giggles. “Well that was different. Who was that, again?”
I laugh with her, feeling an edge of near hysteria. “If I find out, I’ll let you know.”
Liz laughs harder, and so do I. Next thing I know I’m staggering backwards away from the front hall, carrying her, and we land in a heap on the living room floor, practically crying with laughter.
“Oh,” she groans. “My rear end is sore where I hit the doorknob a few times.”
“Poor baby. Here, let me fix it.” I place my hand on her left butt cheek and suddenly it’s not so funny anymore. I search her face, seeking permission that this is okay.
She smiles luminously. “Yes, please. Since it’s your fault and all.”
My own smile returns and I can’t resist teasing, “Hey, be glad it was the door and not the stuccoed wall.”
“Good point. Are you going to kiss it and make it better or what, buddy?” she teases back.
That’s an interesting idea, actually. Liz squeals as I pick her up and carry her to my room, tossing her face down on the bed. “Max! What are you doing?”
“Kissing it better.”
I grab her as she tries to wriggle away, laughing. “Max, don’t you dare!”
But I do dare, and she shrieks when my lips make contact with her backside. It’s hard to kiss someone when you’re trying not to laugh. I manage, though, and soon Liz gentles enough for me to begin using my powers.
I skim lightly across her rounded skin, sending a delicate tracery of energy to float down into her tissue and repair any potential bruising before it can appear. She squirms a bit, her legs moving restlessly, but I don’t stop touching her when I’m finished healing her.
I can’t.
“Surely it doesn’t take this long for a little sore spot,” she murmurs huskily.
“No, I’m done with that. Just not with you.” I press a smile to her hip.
“How do you keep doing that?”
“What, kissing your ass? I’m getting very fond of it.”
She giggles. “Goof. Not that. How do you keep turning me on so effortlessly?” The last word is muffled as she encircles her head with her arms, undoubtedly concealing a blush.
“I could ask you the same thing, angel.”
She moves an arm down and cranes her neck, trying to see me. “Yeah?”
“Oh, yeah,” I admit feelingly.
“Maybe it’s synergy.”
This time I repress the smile at the curious tone of her voice. “How so?” I ask as neutrally as I can.
“Well, you turn me on, and that turns you on, which turns me on more, and so on and so forth until it’s bigger than the both of us and we end up having sex against the front door because we can’t wait a second longer.”
She sounds so damn speculative that I just start to laugh, and she heaves a big sigh. “Maaaaax, I’m being serious here!” Unfortunately her own little giggle gives it away.
“I can be serious,” I assure her, tamping it down, and I reach one hand up between her legs. “In fact, I am completely serious when it comes to your arousal.”
“Oh,” Liz replies breathlessly. She’s still wet and I feel the addition of new moisture as I slip my fingers inside. “That’s…oh, that feels good.”
Her hips circle slightly, lifting to meet my hand, and like that I’m flooded with desire again. Synergy, indeed.
I return to my oral travels, moving lower now, closer to where I’m establishing a rhythm, and lick across the back of her thigh where it joins the curve of her buttock.
Liz moans, and it’s a very different sound from all our laughter but no less welcome. She pulls up onto her knees, thrusting her hips back at me, and I forget how to breathe for the stunning presentation in front of me, beckoning.
I can feel my cock hardening to the point almost of pain, aching to take her right like this. But she’s not the only one who’s had other things on her mind all night, so instead I grit my teeth, withdraw my hand and issue an order. “Turn over.”
She inhales rapidly, the air whistling through her teeth, and then flips onto her back. I groan at how eagerly she spreads her legs for me and plunge my tongue into her. There’s no chance to be unsure, to wonder if I’m good at this. It is a biologically choreographed symphony in my blood and some part of me older than conscious thought knows exactly how to please Liz.
In what seems like no time at all, she’s shuddering and crying out, her hips bucking up against my face. It’s messy and sticky and I have to keep pulling back so she doesn’t smother or injure me with the force of her motion. And I love every uninhibited, musk-scented second of it.
I’m in control this time.
When at last she quiets, her toes continue to flex against my ribcage and her legs retain a certain amount of tension. Maybe she’s not finished?
“Do you want me to keep going?”
Liz emits a short giggle. “I don’t know.”
Okaaay. “I can guess why you’d say to stop, so what’s making you maybe want to keep going?” I bring my hand up while I talk and start rubbing gently. While I’m definitely willing to try for a repeat, I don’t think I can do it the same way. I’m discovering that oral sex is kind of an endurance sport and I don’t have enough practice in yet to last through a double header.
She shifts under my caresses. “I mean I did, but I feel like…like I ended up right back on the edge, you know? Like I could—never mind, you probably want to just—”
“Whoa, stop right there, Liz. I’m all for helping you experience as many orgasms as possible. I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t hoping for a yes.”
“Really?” She lifts up on her elbows and looks at me.
“Hell, yes,” I assure her emphatically. In fact, I’m quickly becoming addicted to making Liz come. It could be my new main hobby in life.
Liz laughs, relaxing. “Well okay then! Um, a little higher and to the right—my right,” she tells me as she lies back down.
To her right, that’s my left. I move in that direction slowly, halting when she gasps, “There.”
“Right there?” I inquire, pressing a little harder.
“Yes!”
I am never going to tire of hearing that word from her. I stick to the appointed spot, feeling her hips begin to circle and push up against my fingers. I reach up, under her leg, and close my other hand over her breast, tugging lightly at her nipple, while I plant kisses along her abdomen.
Liz moans, and I love that sound, too. I glance up and notice how tightly she has her eyes closed.
“Fantasizing about something?” I ask her, surprised that the idea turns me on.
She shakes her head choppily. “No. Just feeling. Everything you’re doing to me.” Her breath hitches when I pull harder on her stiffened nipple, sending a bolt of lust through my own body at the clear cause-and-effect reaction. “It’s a little late to be nervous about you looking at me, but I can’t look while you are. It’s too weird.”
I have to chuckle at that. I sort of know what she means, because it does feel really intense, but at the same time I could have watched her mouth on my cock for hours yesterday, assuming I could have lasted that long. Guess it’s one of those male/female things. “I’m glad you’re okay with me looking at you, because I love seeing you like this, Liz. All wet and wild.”
A shaky laugh greets that statement, followed by an indrawn breath when I put a little more pressure on her drenched skin. I can’t help myself anymore; I keep talking, alternating words and skimming kisses along the smooth line of her stomach.
“I’ve fantasized about this for a long, long time, Liz. What it would be like to touch you so intimately. To kiss you and hold you, run my hands over your bare skin.” I dip my tongue in her navel, hearing how her breathing grows ever more ragged and her moans throaty and low. Long.
“What you would taste like, and if I would ever be able to get enough once I knew.” We have a rhythm going now, me lifting up to make way for the thrust of her hips as she winds tighter and tighter. I squeeze her breast and roll the nipple between my fingers, then go for broke.
“What it would feel like to fuck you.”
Her eyes pop open in surprise and at the same moment, release hits her and she cries out, arching. Her legs working, pushing her body against my hand and I don’t stop, can’t stop, until Liz comes to a shuddering halt, thoroughly satiated.
She lies bonelessly across my bed, her hair tangled wildly and her body flushed and glistening. I rise onto my knees between her widespread legs and clamp my hands on her hips, pulling her to me. She slides easily, her expression still dazed, and I slip inside her slowly, so slowly, feeling her slick passage take hold of the head of my cock, and now I stop.
Liz’s eyelashes flutter as I ease out of her and then repeat my actions, starting an achingly slow series of shallow penetrations that frustrate and delight me both. It feels so fucking good. I watch as I slide in and out, in and out, her moisture coating my skin until we gleam together and only the movement tells me where my flesh ends and hers begins.
“Max, what are you…I need…” she murmurs huskily, trying to meet my thrusts. I have a good grip on her, though, and hold her pelvis steady, continuing the torturous pace.
“All in good time, angel. I want this to last.”
“But…”
“Just be patient with me, Liz.” She subsides at that and I lean over, my tongue flickering over her nipple before I pull it into my mouth and suck, gently biting. I can’t avoid slipping a little father inside her but I stay still, simply stretching her, and the yearning sound she makes gives rise to fire in my blood.
When I sit back up, I resume the slow, shallow thrusts even though my own body is beginning to urge me on. I don’t question the impulse to string this experience out, to bring Liz to a point where all she knows is the feel of my cock just barely inside her and the need for me to fill her completely.
It begins the same way, with her hips attempting to lift and her legs wrapping around me, pulling me towards her. I’m a lot bigger and stronger than her, plus I have positional advantage, and the pulling gets her nowhere. Neither does plucking at my hands on her hips. She’s getting frustrated now, the slow, constant friction sensitizing both of us. All her limbs move restlessly and she never stops trying to thrust, the motion totally instinctive.
Next come the verbal entreaties and I swear I never knew I could stand against that. That sexy rasp calling my name, asking me to make love to her.
When her feet land on my shoulders, pushing frantically, and I look down to see the whole long, glorious line of her body spread out in front of me, her head tossing, tangled hair crackling around her, while her hands grasp at me needily and her voice pleads, then, then I finally let go.
I lean forward, catching myself on my hands, and thrust deep. Liz arches with a choked cry and her hands clutch at my back. I feel her fingernails ripping down the length of my torso and I gasp for air at the primal sensation, pumping harder. Nothing has ever felt like this. I never imagined anything could feel this good.
“Max, Max, Max, Max!” She almost chants it, over and over, and I answer her, our names blending into a mindless litany that drives us both over the edge.
“Liz!” She convulses around me and I groan, spilling endlessly, buried deep inside her. And it’s then that I realize, with a swell of warmth and a poignancy on the verge of tears, what the mad whirl of color I’ve been seeing is.
Flashes.
.
"Fan fiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk."
~Henry Jenkins
~Henry Jenkins
Chapter 20
“So how exactly did we end up gender-segregated again?” Michael asks as he pulls out of the 7-11 parking lot, where we’ve loaded up for the road trip. It’s only a four hour drive back to Roswell but snacks are imperative when cooped up in a vehicle for anything longer than half an hour.
In the passenger seat, Alex laughs. “Dude, you didn’t really think Liz and Maria were going to pass up the perfect opportunity to compare notes, did you?”
I meet Michael’s eyes in the rearview mirror and we both grimace. Bad enough that our girlfriends are gossiping together, but our sister’s in that car too and there’s no end to the humiliating info she could pass on. I sigh internally and lean back, slouching to get comfortable.
“For fuck’s sake Maxwell, we’re not even on the highway yet and you’re brooding. Knock it off.”
I don’t even look at him, just keep staring out the window. “Bite me, asshole.”
I hear a snicker from Alex but he stays out of it as Michael continues, “What is wrong with you? A few days ago I might have chalked it up to sexual tension but I know that ain’t the case now.”
“Nothing’s wrong, Michael,” I answer defensively, crossing my arms over my chest. “I didn’t get a chance to talk to Liz is all.”
“You didn’t spend all night…”
“No,” I interrupt before he can spout something vulgar. “We were…busy, for a while, and then Liz kind of passed out.”
“Passed out?” he squeaks in alarm.
“Yeah, you know, sleeping like the dead?” The last thing I need is for Michael to start worrying about Liz. “I don’t know what time I finally crashed. I think I was too tired to sleep.”
In fact, I watched her for most of the night, moving from her side only to pack for the trip home. When I was rudely awakened this morning by everyone else’s arrival, Liz was in the shower.
I wonder if she noticed that I smoothed the wild tangles out of her hair while she slept.
“What’re you getting all knotted up about then? God, man, you should give lessons in how not to have fun.”
I scowl at him. “It doesn’t matter that much I guess. Things were just left up in the air some.”
Things like who we are to each other now, and what does that mean going forward? Are we going to do the long distance thing? Does she feel strongly enough about me to try it, the way I want to?
The Jeep is silent for a few minutes while depressing thoughts swirl in my head. Suddenly Alex laughs.
“Didn’t you introduce Liz as your girlfriend last night?”
“Yeah, what of it?”
“And she didn’t like, shoot you down later or explain politely that you’re just dating, did she?”
“Um, no.” Actually, she was far more interested in getting into my pants than talking to me. Remembering our urgency lightens my mood and I smile to myself.
“Then you can rest easy, Max. You gave her a new label and she let it stick, so as far as she’s concerned it’s a done deal, no further conversation necessary.” He swivels further around and winks at me. “Liz is very big on labeling things, and she doesn’t like the removable kind.”
“Right.” I’m familiar with Liz’s compartmentalizing tendencies from high school science classes, so this makes a modicum of sense to me. Still. “Don’t women usually want to discuss this sort of thing?”
Michael snorts. “In my experience, they do.”
Alex shrugs. “Depends on the woman. With Liz, once she’s managed to put a name on something, it goes someplace in her brain file and the subject is closed.”
It sounds oddly closed-minded the way Alex puts it—incongruous with Alter-Liz. But my Liz has been able to have her life as regimented and controlled as they both wanted it to be, and that would change things. Alter-Liz was forced to adapt much earlier because of her relationship with that other me.
Huh. My Liz.
“So what you’re saying is, Max has ‘Boyfriend’ written across his forehead with a Sharpie,” Michael sums up.
“Pretty much, yeah,” Alex chuckles.
This unexpected insight into the way Liz thinks finally explains satisfactorily how the whole situation with Gord could have happened. When she chose to follow her head instead of her heart at the beginning of their ‘relationship,’ she stubbornly stuck to that conclusion right up until she got irrefutable proof that it was wrong.
It’s also why she’s never given up on me.
Out of nowhere, Alex laughs again and shoots me a sly glance. “Besides, given the Lipinski that Max pulled, I doubt she’s going to let him get away any time soon.”
“The what?”
“Lipinski?” Michael echoes. “You mean Tara Lipinski, that Olympic skater?”
“I see Maria has introduced you two to the joys of figure skating,” Alex quips dryly.
I nod glumly. “Yeah, she hijacks the TV for the World Championships every February.”
“This year we’ve got the Winter Olympics to suffer through, too.”
“Thank God for headphones, that’s all I have to say about that,” I remark in return. “I want to know what Alex is talking about.”
“I bet you do,” Michael needles.
“Well, you know, she was the major underdog and she won.”
That’s the beginning of an explanation, but I’m still lost. “What the fuck does that mean?”
Alex laughs outright at my aggrieved tone. “It means, my alien friend, that you were an inexperienced unknown who shot past everyone else to get the gold medal in bed.”
“Oh,” I reply lamely. Michael laughs but also looks vaguely impressed, and I can feel my face burning. “I didn’t really do anything special. I just…didn’t want it to end.” I trail off wistfully.
Blue eyes regard me with a surprising amount of understanding. “Yeah, back to reality today. Separate beds, parents, all that shit.”
Michael and I are both nodding as he continues, “And then there’s the fact that in a little over a week, you guys will all be back here, and Liz and I will be back to freezing our asses off in Massachusetts.”
A long silence follows as we absorb a truth we’ve all been avoiding. Suddenly, Michael flinches like he’s been belted, and the Jeep swerves. He ignores our yelling and blurts out, “Jesus, what did Maria say about me?”
“I don’t know, man. We had a little conference call this morning, and after Liz went, ‘Oh my God, Maria, I couldn’t even remember my own name, all I knew was Max,’ I made some congratulatory and non-girlfriend-y remark and boom! Booted from the conversation.”
“Fuck,” Michael swore.
“What does it matter, Mike? It’s not like you were a first-timer, like some of us.”
He actually turns around long enough to glare at me. Alex and I grab for door handles as we swerve again. “Michael! Keep your eyes on the goddamned road!”
“It’s not funny, Max. You’ve been there for some of Maria’s ‘reviews.’ She gives point-by-point critiques, and they are not pretty.”
He sounds panicked and miserable, and I take pity on him. After all, I’m feeling pretty good after my own glowing review. And—no, actually, I don’t think I ever want to know if Alex is a stud in the sack. But I’d guess that someday Iz will gross me out and tell me anyway.
“So you listened to her critiques, Mike?”
“Well, yeah.” Grudging admission.
“Then you should have a really good idea by now of what not to do.”
“Good point.” He mulls that over. “But—”
“Michael,” Alex interrupts. “She’s not going to rip into your technique.”
“Why not?” he asks suspiciously. “She did for everyone else.”
I see instantly where Alex is going with this, because it’s the exact same reason my own dates were never truly fulfilling. “‘Cause everyone else wasn’t you.”
“Oh,” he says dumbly. “Oh, so…huh.” He nods absently as he drives, clearly needing a moment for this concept. Alex and I exchange amused looks but nobly refrain from laughing.
My mind drifts to what happened between me and Liz last night. More specifically, to what wasn’t between us. Yes, we definitively ruled out me making her sick or otherwise harming her through fluid contact, but what about getting her pregnant? And I’m not emotionally equipped this morning to even wonder about the flashes. Did I simply overwhelm her with sensation, or did she consciously choose to let me in? I can worry about that later. Right now I need to fret about the possibility of impending fatherhood.
I really don’t want to talk about it—hell, I don’t want to think about it either, but that would be even more irresponsible than taking that risk in the first place had been. I venture hesitantly, “Michael, did you ever have one break?”
He lifts his left hand briefly from the wheel. “Do I look married to you?”
Alex chimes in. “Relax, Liz is on the pill.”
“I know.” I shrug and open my mouth to continue when Michael sighs exaggeratedly.
“Sorry, you’re just not that different.”
“What?”
“Three breakages, two without backup. No kids. You don’t have super sperm, bro. And if Iz didn’t get knocked up after banging Mark for months using only oral contraception, I think you’re safe.”
What if it’s different for me, though? “But—”
“Maxwell. You ain’t no king.”
That effectively halts the conversation again, and it surprises me that I don’t feel defensive or belligerent at Michael’s brusque pronouncement—a reaction I’ve had many times in the past, particularly where the subject of supposed royalty is concerned, but not this time.
Instead, I feel oddly reassured. What Maria said the other day before she started pounding on Michael (in several different consecutive ways) was true: our lives are our own. My life is my own. And my last excuse for not living it has disappeared.
When I turn my attention outwards again, I notice Alex staring into space with this completely sappy smile. A suspicion forms. “Whitman, you daydreaming about barebacking my sister?”
He startles, guilt quicksilvering across his face before he laughs ruefully. “You know, I’ve been taking this shit from you guys over Isabel because I know where you’re coming from. After all, Liz and Maria are my sisters in all but name.”
He pauses to let that sink in and I laugh when Michael cringes then shrugs. Alex shifts in his seat to face me head-on, his gaze probing.
“Actually, Michael was the known quantity. You were the one I didn’t have a feel for, Max, and your track record isn’t exactly stellar. I don’t want to see Liz hurt again.”
I haven’t thought about it from Alex’s perspective. Honestly, he has more cause for concern about me than I ever had about him. But before I can admit that, Michael jumps in.
“Please tell me you fucked up that Gord guy, Whitman.”
“If you mean did I physically confront him, sorry, no. He’s twice my size and I don’t have a death wish.”
A fierce disappointment fills me even as I acknowledge that it wouldn’t have been a good idea. But he continues in a deceptively cheerful voice, “There isn’t a Harvard chapter of the Theta Kappa fraternity anymore, though, after the investigation into hazing practices; they were so disgusted that they closed it down.” One corner of Alex’s mouth lifts in a mirthless smirk when Michael laughs.
“And of course, there’s the fact that one Gordon Davis was expelled for cheating on his finals. His exams grades were simply too high to be consistent with such an underachieving student.”
“Didn’t they offer him the chance to retake and prove himself?” I want to know.
His smirk widens. “Oh, yeah. He was arrogant enough to take it, too. When he passed with less than the flying colors I’d painted into his academic records, it was buh-bye.”
Michael gasps. “You hacked into Harvard?”
“It wasn’t that hard, really. Um, Liz doesn’t know about that part, so let’s keep it that way, okay?”
We both nod and Michael adds, “You’re all right, Whitman. You can fuck Isabel whenever she tells you to.”
I can’t stop the laughter that erupts at this unsurprisingly blunt assessment of Alex and Isabel’s relationship, and Alex’s red-faced spluttering. Then, when we’ve all calmed down to smiles, I pose a serious question.
“So you know where we stand, Alex. What about me, with Liz?”
He turns most of the way around again and pierces me with that blue gaze. It strikes me how he seems to look right into you when he does that, like he’s really seeing beyond the surface to the secret things beneath. I find myself squirming internally but I don’t look away. This is one test I cannot afford to fail.
A huge grin splits his face, giving him a completely different look as his eyes light up. He extends his hand and we shake.
“Yeah, you’ll do.”
.
“So how exactly did we end up gender-segregated again?” Michael asks as he pulls out of the 7-11 parking lot, where we’ve loaded up for the road trip. It’s only a four hour drive back to Roswell but snacks are imperative when cooped up in a vehicle for anything longer than half an hour.
In the passenger seat, Alex laughs. “Dude, you didn’t really think Liz and Maria were going to pass up the perfect opportunity to compare notes, did you?”
I meet Michael’s eyes in the rearview mirror and we both grimace. Bad enough that our girlfriends are gossiping together, but our sister’s in that car too and there’s no end to the humiliating info she could pass on. I sigh internally and lean back, slouching to get comfortable.
“For fuck’s sake Maxwell, we’re not even on the highway yet and you’re brooding. Knock it off.”
I don’t even look at him, just keep staring out the window. “Bite me, asshole.”
I hear a snicker from Alex but he stays out of it as Michael continues, “What is wrong with you? A few days ago I might have chalked it up to sexual tension but I know that ain’t the case now.”
“Nothing’s wrong, Michael,” I answer defensively, crossing my arms over my chest. “I didn’t get a chance to talk to Liz is all.”
“You didn’t spend all night…”
“No,” I interrupt before he can spout something vulgar. “We were…busy, for a while, and then Liz kind of passed out.”
“Passed out?” he squeaks in alarm.
“Yeah, you know, sleeping like the dead?” The last thing I need is for Michael to start worrying about Liz. “I don’t know what time I finally crashed. I think I was too tired to sleep.”
In fact, I watched her for most of the night, moving from her side only to pack for the trip home. When I was rudely awakened this morning by everyone else’s arrival, Liz was in the shower.
I wonder if she noticed that I smoothed the wild tangles out of her hair while she slept.
“What’re you getting all knotted up about then? God, man, you should give lessons in how not to have fun.”
I scowl at him. “It doesn’t matter that much I guess. Things were just left up in the air some.”
Things like who we are to each other now, and what does that mean going forward? Are we going to do the long distance thing? Does she feel strongly enough about me to try it, the way I want to?
The Jeep is silent for a few minutes while depressing thoughts swirl in my head. Suddenly Alex laughs.
“Didn’t you introduce Liz as your girlfriend last night?”
“Yeah, what of it?”
“And she didn’t like, shoot you down later or explain politely that you’re just dating, did she?”
“Um, no.” Actually, she was far more interested in getting into my pants than talking to me. Remembering our urgency lightens my mood and I smile to myself.
“Then you can rest easy, Max. You gave her a new label and she let it stick, so as far as she’s concerned it’s a done deal, no further conversation necessary.” He swivels further around and winks at me. “Liz is very big on labeling things, and she doesn’t like the removable kind.”
“Right.” I’m familiar with Liz’s compartmentalizing tendencies from high school science classes, so this makes a modicum of sense to me. Still. “Don’t women usually want to discuss this sort of thing?”
Michael snorts. “In my experience, they do.”
Alex shrugs. “Depends on the woman. With Liz, once she’s managed to put a name on something, it goes someplace in her brain file and the subject is closed.”
It sounds oddly closed-minded the way Alex puts it—incongruous with Alter-Liz. But my Liz has been able to have her life as regimented and controlled as they both wanted it to be, and that would change things. Alter-Liz was forced to adapt much earlier because of her relationship with that other me.
Huh. My Liz.
“So what you’re saying is, Max has ‘Boyfriend’ written across his forehead with a Sharpie,” Michael sums up.
“Pretty much, yeah,” Alex chuckles.
This unexpected insight into the way Liz thinks finally explains satisfactorily how the whole situation with Gord could have happened. When she chose to follow her head instead of her heart at the beginning of their ‘relationship,’ she stubbornly stuck to that conclusion right up until she got irrefutable proof that it was wrong.
It’s also why she’s never given up on me.
Out of nowhere, Alex laughs again and shoots me a sly glance. “Besides, given the Lipinski that Max pulled, I doubt she’s going to let him get away any time soon.”
“The what?”
“Lipinski?” Michael echoes. “You mean Tara Lipinski, that Olympic skater?”
“I see Maria has introduced you two to the joys of figure skating,” Alex quips dryly.
I nod glumly. “Yeah, she hijacks the TV for the World Championships every February.”
“This year we’ve got the Winter Olympics to suffer through, too.”
“Thank God for headphones, that’s all I have to say about that,” I remark in return. “I want to know what Alex is talking about.”
“I bet you do,” Michael needles.
“Well, you know, she was the major underdog and she won.”
That’s the beginning of an explanation, but I’m still lost. “What the fuck does that mean?”
Alex laughs outright at my aggrieved tone. “It means, my alien friend, that you were an inexperienced unknown who shot past everyone else to get the gold medal in bed.”
“Oh,” I reply lamely. Michael laughs but also looks vaguely impressed, and I can feel my face burning. “I didn’t really do anything special. I just…didn’t want it to end.” I trail off wistfully.
Blue eyes regard me with a surprising amount of understanding. “Yeah, back to reality today. Separate beds, parents, all that shit.”
Michael and I are both nodding as he continues, “And then there’s the fact that in a little over a week, you guys will all be back here, and Liz and I will be back to freezing our asses off in Massachusetts.”
A long silence follows as we absorb a truth we’ve all been avoiding. Suddenly, Michael flinches like he’s been belted, and the Jeep swerves. He ignores our yelling and blurts out, “Jesus, what did Maria say about me?”
“I don’t know, man. We had a little conference call this morning, and after Liz went, ‘Oh my God, Maria, I couldn’t even remember my own name, all I knew was Max,’ I made some congratulatory and non-girlfriend-y remark and boom! Booted from the conversation.”
“Fuck,” Michael swore.
“What does it matter, Mike? It’s not like you were a first-timer, like some of us.”
He actually turns around long enough to glare at me. Alex and I grab for door handles as we swerve again. “Michael! Keep your eyes on the goddamned road!”
“It’s not funny, Max. You’ve been there for some of Maria’s ‘reviews.’ She gives point-by-point critiques, and they are not pretty.”
He sounds panicked and miserable, and I take pity on him. After all, I’m feeling pretty good after my own glowing review. And—no, actually, I don’t think I ever want to know if Alex is a stud in the sack. But I’d guess that someday Iz will gross me out and tell me anyway.
“So you listened to her critiques, Mike?”
“Well, yeah.” Grudging admission.
“Then you should have a really good idea by now of what not to do.”
“Good point.” He mulls that over. “But—”
“Michael,” Alex interrupts. “She’s not going to rip into your technique.”
“Why not?” he asks suspiciously. “She did for everyone else.”
I see instantly where Alex is going with this, because it’s the exact same reason my own dates were never truly fulfilling. “‘Cause everyone else wasn’t you.”
“Oh,” he says dumbly. “Oh, so…huh.” He nods absently as he drives, clearly needing a moment for this concept. Alex and I exchange amused looks but nobly refrain from laughing.
My mind drifts to what happened between me and Liz last night. More specifically, to what wasn’t between us. Yes, we definitively ruled out me making her sick or otherwise harming her through fluid contact, but what about getting her pregnant? And I’m not emotionally equipped this morning to even wonder about the flashes. Did I simply overwhelm her with sensation, or did she consciously choose to let me in? I can worry about that later. Right now I need to fret about the possibility of impending fatherhood.
I really don’t want to talk about it—hell, I don’t want to think about it either, but that would be even more irresponsible than taking that risk in the first place had been. I venture hesitantly, “Michael, did you ever have one break?”
He lifts his left hand briefly from the wheel. “Do I look married to you?”
Alex chimes in. “Relax, Liz is on the pill.”
“I know.” I shrug and open my mouth to continue when Michael sighs exaggeratedly.
“Sorry, you’re just not that different.”
“What?”
“Three breakages, two without backup. No kids. You don’t have super sperm, bro. And if Iz didn’t get knocked up after banging Mark for months using only oral contraception, I think you’re safe.”
What if it’s different for me, though? “But—”
“Maxwell. You ain’t no king.”
That effectively halts the conversation again, and it surprises me that I don’t feel defensive or belligerent at Michael’s brusque pronouncement—a reaction I’ve had many times in the past, particularly where the subject of supposed royalty is concerned, but not this time.
Instead, I feel oddly reassured. What Maria said the other day before she started pounding on Michael (in several different consecutive ways) was true: our lives are our own. My life is my own. And my last excuse for not living it has disappeared.
When I turn my attention outwards again, I notice Alex staring into space with this completely sappy smile. A suspicion forms. “Whitman, you daydreaming about barebacking my sister?”
He startles, guilt quicksilvering across his face before he laughs ruefully. “You know, I’ve been taking this shit from you guys over Isabel because I know where you’re coming from. After all, Liz and Maria are my sisters in all but name.”
He pauses to let that sink in and I laugh when Michael cringes then shrugs. Alex shifts in his seat to face me head-on, his gaze probing.
“Actually, Michael was the known quantity. You were the one I didn’t have a feel for, Max, and your track record isn’t exactly stellar. I don’t want to see Liz hurt again.”
I haven’t thought about it from Alex’s perspective. Honestly, he has more cause for concern about me than I ever had about him. But before I can admit that, Michael jumps in.
“Please tell me you fucked up that Gord guy, Whitman.”
“If you mean did I physically confront him, sorry, no. He’s twice my size and I don’t have a death wish.”
A fierce disappointment fills me even as I acknowledge that it wouldn’t have been a good idea. But he continues in a deceptively cheerful voice, “There isn’t a Harvard chapter of the Theta Kappa fraternity anymore, though, after the investigation into hazing practices; they were so disgusted that they closed it down.” One corner of Alex’s mouth lifts in a mirthless smirk when Michael laughs.
“And of course, there’s the fact that one Gordon Davis was expelled for cheating on his finals. His exams grades were simply too high to be consistent with such an underachieving student.”
“Didn’t they offer him the chance to retake and prove himself?” I want to know.
His smirk widens. “Oh, yeah. He was arrogant enough to take it, too. When he passed with less than the flying colors I’d painted into his academic records, it was buh-bye.”
Michael gasps. “You hacked into Harvard?”
“It wasn’t that hard, really. Um, Liz doesn’t know about that part, so let’s keep it that way, okay?”
We both nod and Michael adds, “You’re all right, Whitman. You can fuck Isabel whenever she tells you to.”
I can’t stop the laughter that erupts at this unsurprisingly blunt assessment of Alex and Isabel’s relationship, and Alex’s red-faced spluttering. Then, when we’ve all calmed down to smiles, I pose a serious question.
“So you know where we stand, Alex. What about me, with Liz?”
He turns most of the way around again and pierces me with that blue gaze. It strikes me how he seems to look right into you when he does that, like he’s really seeing beyond the surface to the secret things beneath. I find myself squirming internally but I don’t look away. This is one test I cannot afford to fail.
A huge grin splits his face, giving him a completely different look as his eyes light up. He extends his hand and we shake.
“Yeah, you’ll do.”
.
"Fan fiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk."
~Henry Jenkins
~Henry Jenkins
Thanks, Liz. *smooches*
I've written this chapter and trashed it like half a dozen times already, so, yeah. It'll get out at some point in a version I don't want to rip to shreds, and I'm pushing myself to make that soon. Sorry it's taking so fucking long!
hugs, Tas
I've written this chapter and trashed it like half a dozen times already, so, yeah. It'll get out at some point in a version I don't want to rip to shreds, and I'm pushing myself to make that soon. Sorry it's taking so fucking long!
hugs, Tas
"Fan fiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk."
~Henry Jenkins
~Henry Jenkins