[fiction] aubergines.
365 Gay Sharks
Day 319, Word Count: 1715
Theme: November; Write Until You Drop
This post is part of the 365 Gay Sharks project. If you would like to learn more about this project, click here to read more about it. :D
Taylor laughs, and it's a little like a burst of tiny, rainbow bubbles that Chris kind of wants to pop or just catch and keep for herself. She settles for rooting her fingers in his hair and kissing him fiercely, knocking him into the wall and tangling their legs together. It occurs to her that if she actually wants breakfast, they should probably get going, but Chris doesn't mind. This is good, she's okay. Taylor pulls away, though, panting slightly, and Chris reluctantly lets him go. Okay, okay. She actually does want breakfast sometime soon.
"If you don't stop, we're just going to end up making out forever and then your Aidan might call the police and I'll be late for work."
"I wouldn't want that," Chris says, "let's go get bagels and coffee, then."
She straps her shoes on, aware that they look a little ridiculous, and straightens. Taylor is watching her, and he slips on his shoes too. Slinging her bag on, Chris holds out her hand and Taylor takes it, squeezing. She lets him lead her to their destination and open the door.
There isn't a huge line when they get there, so Chris picks something random and sugary off the menu to pair with actual coffee sans frills. Taylor understandably raises an eyebrow at that, and Chris just ignores him. She unwraps her muffin and bites into it, eyes fluttering shut. It's a really good muffin, okay? It also goes well with the coffee (which she drinks with two sugars and a dash of cream in the morning). Taylor, on the other hand, has a bagel with cream cheese and straight-up black coffee. Chris files that information away as useful later.
Knowing people's breakfast preferences is an important aspect of them, Chris knows, and she's never passed up an opportunity to learn. Maybe that's why she's good at her job, Chris muses. She likes learning people, likes finding out what makes them who they are and using it. She likes giving people what they need (not always want), likes learning about people and surprising them with what she knows about them.
Checking the time on her phone Chris winces. She should probably get going so Aidan doesn't murder her when she gets back. More than once. Shoving the rest of her muffin into her mouth, Chris quickly drains her coffee and leans across the table to press a kiss to Taylor's cheek.
"I have to go," she apologizes, "Text me, yeah?"
"As you wish," Taylor replies, smiling at her, "Go, and if I don't hear from you then I'll worry that Aidan killed you or something."
"Probably a good plan of action," she grins, "I'll text you if I make it through."
With a wave, Chris collects her bag and waltzes out of the shop. She heads toward the BART station and she's sort of floating in happiness. Taylor texts her just as she gets on, telling her to be safe and try not to die before she returns his clothing. Chris promises she'll try. When she finally gets back home, Chris takes a breath and unlocks the door, walking in and bending to take off her shoes. She picks them up.
Aidan, predictably, is waiting in the kitchen with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks over her once, sighs, and shakes his head. Chris tries to be sorry, only she really really isn't and so instead she leans against the counter and smiles at Aidan, totally unashamed.
"Good morning," Chris says brightly, "I'm going to put my shoes away and then you can yell at me all you want."
"You better come right back here," Aidan frowns, "don't even think you're getting out of this."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Chris yells over her shoulder, "love you!"
Once she's in her room, Chris dumps her bag on her bed and carefully puts away her shoes. She contemplates changing, but decides against it. Aidan's still standing in the kitchen when she comes back, only this time he holds out a mug of coffee her her. Chris takes it, smiling. It's like Aidan can't be totally mad at her, even when he's actually got every reason to be absolutely furious with her. She takes a sip.
"Your life choices are bad and you should feel bad," Aidan starts, "you barely know this guy and there is no way it was worth wearing that. Seriously, exercise shorts? That was the best you could both come up with? At least your make-up is mostly passable, I guess but."
He shakes his head and Chris just leans against the counter and listens to him rant. She's learned not to talk when Aidan is lecturing her.
"You don't have any hickeys, do you?" Aidan steps closer, inspecting her neck and chest, "None, good. Did he push for sex? Did you say no? You did explain the asexual thing to him, right? You didn't just let him think you were a prude, did you? Ugh. I wish I could ground you."
"I'm older than you," Chris raises an eyebrow, taking another sip of coffee, "and also a responsible adult, Aidan."
"I know," Aidan sighs, framing her face with his hands, "I just worry. I worry about you so much, sweetheart."
"I told him," Chris says, setting her mug on the counter, "He's okay with it. We literally just slept under covers last night and made out."
There's a sigh of relief from Aidan, and he hugs her close. She wraps her arms around him too and breathes in the smell of his bodywash. It's comforting but Chris eventually dislodges herself from Aidan and pulls her phone from the pocket of the shorts, quickly texting Taylor.
"You're texting your boyfriend," Aidan sighs, "I feel like sashimi left over from last week."
"Why are you making Little Mermaid Broadway references," Chris winces, "Why did I know that was a Little Mermaid Broadway reference?"
"Because you were there with me when we listened to it for like a week straight or whatever it was to keep awake during finals."
Chris gives an involuntary shudder. It had been a dark, dark time and Chris is pretty sure she still knows the words to the entire album. They had made it through finals, though, which was the important thing. They made it through intact, but had ruined an otherwise good album. Luckily, they had choose an album that was unlikely to come up in daily life so the twitching from recognizing it was mostly minimal.
Explaining their aversion to The Little Mermaid to Avery had been an interesting experience, and he thought it was weird, but didn't laugh. When he was annoyed with them both, though, he popped the accursed CD into the stereo and cranked up the volume until they both apologized. It occurred to Chris that she was in a weird, semi-polyamorous relationship with Avery and Aidan and that might be harder to explain. She would cross that bridge when she reached it - which would hopefully be soon so that Aidan could stop worrying his head over her safety.
"Hey," Chris pokes Aidan in the stomach, "You're not doing anything right now, right? Can I tie you up?"
Aidan gives her a Look, "This is going to be a disaster."
"I've been practicing," Chris huffs, "It'll only be a little bit of a disaster. Besides, you'd rather have me practice on you first."
It's a truth that Aidan has to acknowledge, and he looks her over for a second before nodding. Chris bounces on her toes, a little excited. Aidan rolls his eyes at her and walks into their playroom which isn't quite as nicely equipped as Kink&Kind, but still very well-stocked. They've got different colors of rope, which Chris knows is because Aidan sometimes does up Avery in pretty, decorative bondage for photos.
She's not interested in any of that at the moment, though, because she's pretty shit at basic bondage and that's just a distant dream. Chris grabs the regular hemp, holding it up so Aidan can see. He shakes his head, and she rolls her eyes and grabs the bamboo. Aidan smiles. It would figure that he's a elegant bastard even when he's the one being tied up. Chris runs her hands over the rope, getting acquainted.
The rope is ridiculously soft and she smiles, remembering when Aidan had bought the first lengths of rope and tied Chris up carefully. There was a sort of zen to the routine of getting tied up, and Chris had attempted to learn after Aidan and never quite mastered the knots.
This was weird, Chris knew, because most people assumed that Aidan never subbed and while that was true most of the time, he did for Chris. Chris returned the favor and they had spent a lot of their free time in college learning how to be safe and what their personal limits were. She's sure it's not most people's choice of extracurriculars but she's also sure that they didn't know how well it worked for stress relief. Whenever Chris had felt stressed out, Aidan would tie her up and whenever Aidan had felt stressed out, she flogged him. It all worked out.
Their routine had worked especially well when Aidan was rehearsing for one of his plays (his chosen backup career) and constantly pacing. She would just touch his shoulder, ask him his safeword, and then tell him to strip and stand against the wall. Aidan always complied.
Now, Chris just smiles, "Safeword?"
"Stage left," Aidan replies,"or just stage."
"Okay. Strip and sit on that chair, yeah?"
"You are such a softie," Aidan snorts, "but yes, ma'am."
"I could gag you," Chris says, edge creeping into her voice, "I don't need to put up with your bratting."
Aidan is silent as he complies with her orders, which Chris thinks is a wise choice because she would have gagged him and Aidan hates it. They had done it once, Chris tying a shirt around his face to keep him quiet, and Aidan hadn't hated it but he hated enjoyed it at all. It was an actual punishment for him, and Chris guarded this secret with a particular care because it was something between Aidan and her.
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Day 319, Word Count: 1715
Theme: November; Write Until You Drop
This post is part of the 365 Gay Sharks project. If you would like to learn more about this project, click here to read more about it. :D
Taylor laughs, and it's a little like a burst of tiny, rainbow bubbles that Chris kind of wants to pop or just catch and keep for herself. She settles for rooting her fingers in his hair and kissing him fiercely, knocking him into the wall and tangling their legs together. It occurs to her that if she actually wants breakfast, they should probably get going, but Chris doesn't mind. This is good, she's okay. Taylor pulls away, though, panting slightly, and Chris reluctantly lets him go. Okay, okay. She actually does want breakfast sometime soon.
"If you don't stop, we're just going to end up making out forever and then your Aidan might call the police and I'll be late for work."
"I wouldn't want that," Chris says, "let's go get bagels and coffee, then."
She straps her shoes on, aware that they look a little ridiculous, and straightens. Taylor is watching her, and he slips on his shoes too. Slinging her bag on, Chris holds out her hand and Taylor takes it, squeezing. She lets him lead her to their destination and open the door.
There isn't a huge line when they get there, so Chris picks something random and sugary off the menu to pair with actual coffee sans frills. Taylor understandably raises an eyebrow at that, and Chris just ignores him. She unwraps her muffin and bites into it, eyes fluttering shut. It's a really good muffin, okay? It also goes well with the coffee (which she drinks with two sugars and a dash of cream in the morning). Taylor, on the other hand, has a bagel with cream cheese and straight-up black coffee. Chris files that information away as useful later.
Knowing people's breakfast preferences is an important aspect of them, Chris knows, and she's never passed up an opportunity to learn. Maybe that's why she's good at her job, Chris muses. She likes learning people, likes finding out what makes them who they are and using it. She likes giving people what they need (not always want), likes learning about people and surprising them with what she knows about them.
Checking the time on her phone Chris winces. She should probably get going so Aidan doesn't murder her when she gets back. More than once. Shoving the rest of her muffin into her mouth, Chris quickly drains her coffee and leans across the table to press a kiss to Taylor's cheek.
"I have to go," she apologizes, "Text me, yeah?"
"As you wish," Taylor replies, smiling at her, "Go, and if I don't hear from you then I'll worry that Aidan killed you or something."
"Probably a good plan of action," she grins, "I'll text you if I make it through."
With a wave, Chris collects her bag and waltzes out of the shop. She heads toward the BART station and she's sort of floating in happiness. Taylor texts her just as she gets on, telling her to be safe and try not to die before she returns his clothing. Chris promises she'll try. When she finally gets back home, Chris takes a breath and unlocks the door, walking in and bending to take off her shoes. She picks them up.
Aidan, predictably, is waiting in the kitchen with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks over her once, sighs, and shakes his head. Chris tries to be sorry, only she really really isn't and so instead she leans against the counter and smiles at Aidan, totally unashamed.
"Good morning," Chris says brightly, "I'm going to put my shoes away and then you can yell at me all you want."
"You better come right back here," Aidan frowns, "don't even think you're getting out of this."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Chris yells over her shoulder, "love you!"
Once she's in her room, Chris dumps her bag on her bed and carefully puts away her shoes. She contemplates changing, but decides against it. Aidan's still standing in the kitchen when she comes back, only this time he holds out a mug of coffee her her. Chris takes it, smiling. It's like Aidan can't be totally mad at her, even when he's actually got every reason to be absolutely furious with her. She takes a sip.
"Your life choices are bad and you should feel bad," Aidan starts, "you barely know this guy and there is no way it was worth wearing that. Seriously, exercise shorts? That was the best you could both come up with? At least your make-up is mostly passable, I guess but."
He shakes his head and Chris just leans against the counter and listens to him rant. She's learned not to talk when Aidan is lecturing her.
"You don't have any hickeys, do you?" Aidan steps closer, inspecting her neck and chest, "None, good. Did he push for sex? Did you say no? You did explain the asexual thing to him, right? You didn't just let him think you were a prude, did you? Ugh. I wish I could ground you."
"I'm older than you," Chris raises an eyebrow, taking another sip of coffee, "and also a responsible adult, Aidan."
"I know," Aidan sighs, framing her face with his hands, "I just worry. I worry about you so much, sweetheart."
"I told him," Chris says, setting her mug on the counter, "He's okay with it. We literally just slept under covers last night and made out."
There's a sigh of relief from Aidan, and he hugs her close. She wraps her arms around him too and breathes in the smell of his bodywash. It's comforting but Chris eventually dislodges herself from Aidan and pulls her phone from the pocket of the shorts, quickly texting Taylor.
"You're texting your boyfriend," Aidan sighs, "I feel like sashimi left over from last week."
"Why are you making Little Mermaid Broadway references," Chris winces, "Why did I know that was a Little Mermaid Broadway reference?"
"Because you were there with me when we listened to it for like a week straight or whatever it was to keep awake during finals."
Chris gives an involuntary shudder. It had been a dark, dark time and Chris is pretty sure she still knows the words to the entire album. They had made it through finals, though, which was the important thing. They made it through intact, but had ruined an otherwise good album. Luckily, they had choose an album that was unlikely to come up in daily life so the twitching from recognizing it was mostly minimal.
Explaining their aversion to The Little Mermaid to Avery had been an interesting experience, and he thought it was weird, but didn't laugh. When he was annoyed with them both, though, he popped the accursed CD into the stereo and cranked up the volume until they both apologized. It occurred to Chris that she was in a weird, semi-polyamorous relationship with Avery and Aidan and that might be harder to explain. She would cross that bridge when she reached it - which would hopefully be soon so that Aidan could stop worrying his head over her safety.
"Hey," Chris pokes Aidan in the stomach, "You're not doing anything right now, right? Can I tie you up?"
Aidan gives her a Look, "This is going to be a disaster."
"I've been practicing," Chris huffs, "It'll only be a little bit of a disaster. Besides, you'd rather have me practice on you first."
It's a truth that Aidan has to acknowledge, and he looks her over for a second before nodding. Chris bounces on her toes, a little excited. Aidan rolls his eyes at her and walks into their playroom which isn't quite as nicely equipped as Kink&Kind, but still very well-stocked. They've got different colors of rope, which Chris knows is because Aidan sometimes does up Avery in pretty, decorative bondage for photos.
She's not interested in any of that at the moment, though, because she's pretty shit at basic bondage and that's just a distant dream. Chris grabs the regular hemp, holding it up so Aidan can see. He shakes his head, and she rolls her eyes and grabs the bamboo. Aidan smiles. It would figure that he's a elegant bastard even when he's the one being tied up. Chris runs her hands over the rope, getting acquainted.
The rope is ridiculously soft and she smiles, remembering when Aidan had bought the first lengths of rope and tied Chris up carefully. There was a sort of zen to the routine of getting tied up, and Chris had attempted to learn after Aidan and never quite mastered the knots.
This was weird, Chris knew, because most people assumed that Aidan never subbed and while that was true most of the time, he did for Chris. Chris returned the favor and they had spent a lot of their free time in college learning how to be safe and what their personal limits were. She's sure it's not most people's choice of extracurriculars but she's also sure that they didn't know how well it worked for stress relief. Whenever Chris had felt stressed out, Aidan would tie her up and whenever Aidan had felt stressed out, she flogged him. It all worked out.
Their routine had worked especially well when Aidan was rehearsing for one of his plays (his chosen backup career) and constantly pacing. She would just touch his shoulder, ask him his safeword, and then tell him to strip and stand against the wall. Aidan always complied.
Now, Chris just smiles, "Safeword?"
"Stage left," Aidan replies,"or just stage."
"Okay. Strip and sit on that chair, yeah?"
"You are such a softie," Aidan snorts, "but yes, ma'am."
"I could gag you," Chris says, edge creeping into her voice, "I don't need to put up with your bratting."
Aidan is silent as he complies with her orders, which Chris thinks is a wise choice because she would have gagged him and Aidan hates it. They had done it once, Chris tying a shirt around his face to keep him quiet, and Aidan hadn't hated it but he hated enjoyed it at all. It was an actual punishment for him, and Chris guarded this secret with a particular care because it was something between Aidan and her.
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