(no subject)
Follows this.
Keira wakes up at the sudden swell of chatter around her, the uniform glow of softlight overheads stinging at her eyes. It takes a few moments for her focus to sharpen on the shapes moving past her, bumping her knees and stepping over her bag on the floor. She blinks and curls up even more tightly in the small space of the amphitheatre seat, and waits until the last of her fellow students has filed out of the row before unfolding herself from the position she'd been sleeping in and stretch. There's a satisfying pull in her muscles when she does, and she finds herself instantly more awake, enough to have the grace to look sheepish when she catches the reproachful look Professor McKillop casts in her direction from the podium.
While it's certainly not the first time she's dozed off during class, this particular nap had been especially difficult to fight off, and, McKillop not being the most engrossing orator, she'd gladly given into the urge to just close her eyes, just for a few minutes, her body feeling like it could finally shut down for a bit of a rest after her time with Bill at DBY that morning. She'd left shortly after lunch to get to her two o'clock lecture, still giddy and loose-limbed from sex. And wasn't that a first, meaningful sex between those walls; if you don't count Nic, who isn't work but isn't exactly meaningful either. Or is he? She busies herself fitting the notebook (sprouting with curled edges of hand-outs) into her bag at her feet, pondering that, and by the time she took in a lungful of relatively fresh air outside, she'd mostly come up with facts rather than revelations.
She remembers meeting Nic for the first time at Johnny's place, when she'd only been in Johnny's employ for a week. Johnny was still in full welcome-wagon mode, feeding her daquiris and telling her everything about everyone. He hadn't gotten to Nic yet when Nic had strolled into the backyard from the house, already kicking his shoes off. After a few days around Johnny and the DBY people, she didn't feel exactly improper ogling Nic's tight, golden stomach when he'd pulled his t-shirt off, yelling an incomprehensible greeting at their host (she rememebers Johnny's voice, enthusiastic as always, coming to her muffled from the confines of the cooler he was fetching ice from). Nic had stopped when he'd noticed her presence and had grinned at her with what she then believed to be arrogance, but later that day, in Johnny's bed of all places, had prooved to be more than a little bit of predatory interest. Nic fucked like he did anything else, and Keira thought the analogy could stop right there and be plenty self-explanatory that way. He'd let her rim him in the yellow-blue glow of afternoon and had come that way too, securing himself a place in her knickers, as he liked to say. Up until Bill had showed up at DBY, she and Nic weren't exactly been lovers (how tacky), but rather convenient fuck-buddies, engaging in strangely freeing sex whenever and pretty much wherever they pleased. Johnny liked this, liked her and liked Nic and liked them together like that, but it had never crossed anyone's mind, including their own, that it was anything but leisure fucks between two people who couldn't keep still.
Nic didn't show anything resembling jealousy or even disappointment when she told him about Bill, whether it was because he didn't care, didn't mind, or because he thought Keira would still show up at Ian's home when Ian (whom she detests and will says so if even the slightest bit prompted) was gone to fuck Nic amidst butterflies and the creepy crawlies she wouldn't get into touching distance of. She'd never told Nic that they'd had to stop, even though with most people it would be implied. Very little was ever implied when it came to Nic, and she isn't sure she's not taking advantage of it this time, for reasons she can't quite put her finger on. The after-party at Johnny's had afforded them a bit of a break in their recent status quo; the way he'd crawled to her as Keira stood by Bill and had pulled her into him, hands sticky and needy from alcohol and whatever Josh had brought him. She was far from sober herself but she remembers (always does) the genuine care in his touch, the sparks of true want on his face as he'd fucked her, slow and deep, suckling at her mouth, her pulse, her breasts for Johnny's camera but also, she felt, for himself too. She remembers the blurred shift of focus when she'd turned to Bill, who was still standing against the wall, a dozen feet away, his face (fucking beautiful, she remembers thinking just then) contorted with arousal and something darker and harder to read.
Huh.
She walks to her car and throws her bag into the passenger seat, realising she's hungry and thirsty and more than a little eager to go home, where Bill will be staying tonight, next to her. She wonders if he'd let her pick his brain a bit about all this, though suspects it's still a little too early for that.
She stops at the shops and gets food for two and a new box of condoms. (Coconut flavoured, just to be funny.)
Keira wakes up at the sudden swell of chatter around her, the uniform glow of softlight overheads stinging at her eyes. It takes a few moments for her focus to sharpen on the shapes moving past her, bumping her knees and stepping over her bag on the floor. She blinks and curls up even more tightly in the small space of the amphitheatre seat, and waits until the last of her fellow students has filed out of the row before unfolding herself from the position she'd been sleeping in and stretch. There's a satisfying pull in her muscles when she does, and she finds herself instantly more awake, enough to have the grace to look sheepish when she catches the reproachful look Professor McKillop casts in her direction from the podium.
While it's certainly not the first time she's dozed off during class, this particular nap had been especially difficult to fight off, and, McKillop not being the most engrossing orator, she'd gladly given into the urge to just close her eyes, just for a few minutes, her body feeling like it could finally shut down for a bit of a rest after her time with Bill at DBY that morning. She'd left shortly after lunch to get to her two o'clock lecture, still giddy and loose-limbed from sex. And wasn't that a first, meaningful sex between those walls; if you don't count Nic, who isn't work but isn't exactly meaningful either. Or is he? She busies herself fitting the notebook (sprouting with curled edges of hand-outs) into her bag at her feet, pondering that, and by the time she took in a lungful of relatively fresh air outside, she'd mostly come up with facts rather than revelations.
She remembers meeting Nic for the first time at Johnny's place, when she'd only been in Johnny's employ for a week. Johnny was still in full welcome-wagon mode, feeding her daquiris and telling her everything about everyone. He hadn't gotten to Nic yet when Nic had strolled into the backyard from the house, already kicking his shoes off. After a few days around Johnny and the DBY people, she didn't feel exactly improper ogling Nic's tight, golden stomach when he'd pulled his t-shirt off, yelling an incomprehensible greeting at their host (she rememebers Johnny's voice, enthusiastic as always, coming to her muffled from the confines of the cooler he was fetching ice from). Nic had stopped when he'd noticed her presence and had grinned at her with what she then believed to be arrogance, but later that day, in Johnny's bed of all places, had prooved to be more than a little bit of predatory interest. Nic fucked like he did anything else, and Keira thought the analogy could stop right there and be plenty self-explanatory that way. He'd let her rim him in the yellow-blue glow of afternoon and had come that way too, securing himself a place in her knickers, as he liked to say. Up until Bill had showed up at DBY, she and Nic weren't exactly been lovers (how tacky), but rather convenient fuck-buddies, engaging in strangely freeing sex whenever and pretty much wherever they pleased. Johnny liked this, liked her and liked Nic and liked them together like that, but it had never crossed anyone's mind, including their own, that it was anything but leisure fucks between two people who couldn't keep still.
Nic didn't show anything resembling jealousy or even disappointment when she told him about Bill, whether it was because he didn't care, didn't mind, or because he thought Keira would still show up at Ian's home when Ian (whom she detests and will says so if even the slightest bit prompted) was gone to fuck Nic amidst butterflies and the creepy crawlies she wouldn't get into touching distance of. She'd never told Nic that they'd had to stop, even though with most people it would be implied. Very little was ever implied when it came to Nic, and she isn't sure she's not taking advantage of it this time, for reasons she can't quite put her finger on. The after-party at Johnny's had afforded them a bit of a break in their recent status quo; the way he'd crawled to her as Keira stood by Bill and had pulled her into him, hands sticky and needy from alcohol and whatever Josh had brought him. She was far from sober herself but she remembers (always does) the genuine care in his touch, the sparks of true want on his face as he'd fucked her, slow and deep, suckling at her mouth, her pulse, her breasts for Johnny's camera but also, she felt, for himself too. She remembers the blurred shift of focus when she'd turned to Bill, who was still standing against the wall, a dozen feet away, his face (fucking beautiful, she remembers thinking just then) contorted with arousal and something darker and harder to read.
Huh.
She walks to her car and throws her bag into the passenger seat, realising she's hungry and thirsty and more than a little eager to go home, where Bill will be staying tonight, next to her. She wonders if he'd let her pick his brain a bit about all this, though suspects it's still a little too early for that.
She stops at the shops and gets food for two and a new box of condoms. (Coconut flavoured, just to be funny.)